aprindere-blog

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                        I AM LIFE INCARNATE.                                I AM PHOENIX.

                                                                                                      written by marie

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                        I AM LIFE INCARNATE.                                I AM PHOENIX.

                                                                                                      written by marie

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                                                SHE LAUGHS                                                                 L I K E  G O D

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aprindere started following you.

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points to my four new muses.

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     ❛ ————  i shall become a bat. ❜

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( .::COSMIC GENOCIDE::. )  Emotions RAW and RAMPANT, some people just didn’t appreciate the joys of FEELING SOMETHING. It hums, taking a leap of faith from her open window only to flutter to the floor gracelessly—- yet it continues to hum its eerie gospel. Striding on carpeted floor it makes itself familiar with its new surroundings— a trail of earth && self-compost left behind each little step it had taken.

Oh child of Hades, sister of the mirth’s personification, she shines brighter than a newly formed cloud of NEBULA. Toxic yet vibrant she is the embodiment of rising perfection—- oh yes, she radiates malice && it can feel her ill intent, it can feel her burning core. Dim. But it was there. Nestled under her self-control and wedged between her sanity she keeps it under lock and key.

                                                                                            the temptation to rip it from                                                                                                               her abdomen was strong.

❛ I̢t w̢as ͡a b͞ea͟u̷t̶ifu͟l ̛d͝isp͜l͠ay̛ of ͜m̴en҉tal ̷àssaul̡t, h̸i̛s̀ ̢f̛e͢ar̢ aǹd self̷ loa̛th͟i̡ng ͜m͡ix̴ing̴ ̵int̶o ͜r͝èpu̡ǵnant ͞b̴i͏l͟e̢.͞ ͜I͏ a͠m͞ s̵u̢r̢p̨ŗi͝sed ̢he̡ ͞h͟ad̴ not ̀c̡hoḱe͜d͠.̴ ❜

                                                      It pauses. This feeling, unnatural.                                                 It was odd. She wasn’t scared && it was odd. A                                                 foreign feeling of confusion coated with curiosity,                                                 yet it was being  forced  back  with  swelling   joy                                                 while alerted concern started to choke   it    down                                                 with                   a             forceful                 shove.

the voice does not belong to a friend, does not belong to someone she knows well. but it fills her with apprehension, the sinking feeling of her future that seems to be standing behind her, breathing down her neck, tracing its fingers down her spine, looking for the point to pierce and suck her into it. she turns, a slow smile spreading upon her lips, teeth like daggers that catch the light. 

                        ❝ you’re it,     aren’t you? ❞

she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause in the fear she thought she would feel when it finally came for her. turning back around to look at her nails, she dips the brush back into the galaxy nailpolish and brushes it onto her toenails. she gives a pause, nearly pushes her way into the entity’s mind but stops. she hears the words ‘little girl’ in its mind and she nearly hisses. if you’re going to take her body one day, you’d think the creature would know that she wasn’t a girl ( wasn’t a boy either, would never be a boy. )

                        ❝ you liked it?     i thought it was one                                       of my better moments. i bet                                       i can make him squeal louder                                       than the animals at the                                       slaughterhouse. ❞

with a flick of her wrist, she focuses on the loud j-pop that plays out of her speakers, willing the knob to turn down. it’s rude, she muses, to ignore your future in return for ali project’s newest single. blowing on her nails, she pauses, and realises with a heavy heart that that smell isn’t her nailpolish. it’s the smell of death and decay, rotting flesh that’s gone putrid in it’s time exposed to air. and arnetta nearly gags, bile rising up in her throat. it’s disgusting, it’s rotting. her future has come for her ( is that what it is? she can’t tell. she thinks it is, why would it have comes for her already if it wasn’t time? ) the future has come, and she’s not sure she’s ready for it. 

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Go on ANON and tell me what you think of me. I do not want to know who it is, at all. Don’t tell me who it is, don’t give me hints, don’t say your screen name. Tell me exactly what you think of me. Don’t sugarcoat things. Don’t lie. If you hate me, tell me why. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. If you like me, tell me why. Tell me exactly what you think of me.

I'd love it if even one person did this

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Like for a starter.

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( .::COSMIC GENOCIDE::. ) And it leans back to CACKLE. Sister of MIRTH, she grins && her pride RADIATES, oh daughter of HADES himself and NIECE of Medusa my God look at the monster you've created. It had perched itself on her window sill-- teetering && wheezing it continues to LAUGH. Catching its breath, it inhales sharply as it tries to muster the capability to speak.

             ❛ T̛ha͘t̢ w͜as a͡bs̡o̶ļu͏t̢e̛l̕y ̸ho̧r͡rendo̧u̷s҉                     ̕and ̴I͞ ͏e͟ǹj̵o͞ýed ev͏er̶y҉ l̵i͢t̀t̸ĺe͜ ͏b̕i̡t of ͜i͡t.̕   ❜

                                                  Little   girl,   you  are  a  rolling  disaster  and                                                   the harsh wrath of the seven sins themselves                                                   wrapped  in ONE  beautiful  force  of  spiteful

                                                                                           feminine nature. 

                                                                   ( //;  Gospel  )

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I'm quitting tumblr.

Everyone after the new update

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Ooooh my God tumblr wtf did you DO.

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                                       And I will make sure you remember                                                        the scars I have left

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( Baby Boy )

  okay, so this was a thing now. it wasn’t his time yet and he was hoping it wouldn’t be any time soon, but that was the thing about the phoenix: it could happen any time, anywhere. he thought to keave — turn back, head downstairs and out the house, but he couldn’t hide.

he was never good at hiding.

it wasn’t even time.

“look,”

"i don’t know why you’re here or what you want, but it isn’t my time. i’m young, you know. i don’t wanna be the next jean grey — living out my youth through self destruction and leaving my shit husband behind. and anyway — i’m not interested.”

(  .::COSMIC GENOCIDE::.  )   It makes itself at home on his pillow, using it's claws to pat it down && fluff it back up like it would a nest in the wild. Speaking of which it had tracked into the house. Molted && rotting feathers scattered across a corner on the floor, bits of flesh && mud still clumped together at the ends. It should really apologize for the mess, but it wasn't going to.

                                                ❛   Had̡ I ͡w̸a͘ńt̡e̵d an̛oth͏e͜ŗ ͞J̧e͞a͡ǹ I̧ ͏w͏o͘u̷ld҉ hav̷e dúg her͜ ̷a͠l͞r͢eady͠ ͢ch̡arre҉d ̶c͞orpsè f͡r̢om͠ thè ̛g͜rav͏e ̕and ̨ri̴pṕed̀ h҉e̵r soúl ̷from ͞t̸h͏e̡ ̷aft͝erlife mys̡e̸lf͘. ̸B̧ut̀ I ͟can̕ ̴nǫt p̢e̷r̡f͘orm͝ ͜t̴h̵e͜ later.͝ ̕Tǫo m͝uc̨h ͟w͟ork,̨ to̸o mųch t͝i͡mȩ,҉ ̸to̡o ̴much ̴o͢f͏ ̵an͝ e̵ff͢o̸rt.̡ ͘B̨e͢sides thé ̕t͠hr͟ill ͏i̵s ͡g̕òne̡. ̡B͢ut̛ ánoth́er is͞ ̀on ̸the ̧r̸ise͢.   ❜

                               Her legacy has come to an end                                    and it DESPISED repeats.

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WAYS TO ROLE PLAY WITH ME:

Send a strongly worded letter. With underlining, and exclamation points.

Ask if I’m the real Slim Shady, in which case, I will stand up.

Believe really hard that we’re already roleplaying. Believing makes things a little less fake.

Submit your desperation and cry a lot.

Throw a brick through my window. We can be penpals once you’re in jail.

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( Baby Boy )

  it was hot — why was it hot? he hadn’t left the heat on before he left, so again, why was it so hot in here? shrugging off his cardigan, he tossed it aside, making his way up the stairs. the heat grew worse the further he went, which began to irritate him. 

the heat wasn’t on. was he hallucinating? it felt like it. no, he was.

reaching the top of his stairs, he headed down the hall and to his room. it felt the sun when he opened his door — and it was just as worse once he took a step in.

what he saw before him caused him to stop dead in his tracks, his fists clenching shortly afterwards.

     "oh my fucking god, you’re joking.”

     "oh my fucking god, you have got to be kidding me — and you’re real. i can feel it. you’re not some illusion made up by frost or rachel, no, you’re real.”

     "it’s not even time yet, why the fuck are you here? just go — get out; leave.”

(  .::COSMIC GENOCIDE::.  )   His tone was expected but none the less welcomed. Children have no manners, especially the elder ones, and had to be taught or else they'd walk the grounds spewing nothing but filth from their pretty little mouths.

                                                                   Children are truly SOMETHING.                                    Spectacles to behold and loathed, little things that are                                    cherished or taken for granted. Quire was the prime                                    example. Cherished and hated. Because they fear him.                                    Believe it or not they feared what he was capable of----                                                             if only he knew it himself.

                                        ❛  We͏l̕c̀o̸m̕e̕ h̵o͘ḿe,͟ ̢Q̡u͞ir̡e͡. ̴Y̧d͝i͝d ̵yo͘u ̡h̴a͡v̷e ͘f͘un p͘la͞ying͘ ͞with y̷ou͡r̀ l͜i͝ttle̕ f̕riend̛s̀ f҉or ̀the̕ ͠nig͞ht? ̡Or̢ did͘ th̷ȩy͏ ki͟c͡k̢ ýou ҉fr͏om ͟thę cļu͢b҉ hous͘e̵ b͞e͡cause ͝y̵o͜u̷ ̷could͠n't̸ ̕pl͝ay nice.̵  ❜

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( Mercenary )

         ❝ hey, now, l’il buddy! i do come in peace. trust me,              the guns are props and the swords are bigger props. okay, that isn’t true, not at              all. i’m a very dangerous man when hungry, and guess what — ? … i’m not that              hungry, so we’re cool. ❞

             was his mind playing tricks on him again? because he swears up and down that              this pidgeot is talking to him. no, it’s gotta be his mind going again. though, he              isn’t hearing the voices mostly, but that might be because he’s actually not trying              to listen as much. 

        ❝ i’m just a passin’ mercenary, tryna’ find his way to the closest chimichanga              stand that isn’t filled with rats. you can see my dilemma since most stands of a              mexican nature pride themselves on that. so, can you help me — ? or do i need              to turn my cap backwards and try to use a pokeball on you? ❞

(  .::COSMIC GENOCIDE::.  )   It begins to sway side to side, an obnoxious tick had picked up from a past host, && started to hum as it leaned in curiously. Humans were... such odd creatures to say the least. From their oddly squishy bodies to their frantic emotional break downs and strange throwback references it. 

                               ❛  Wh͘a̴t͠ ͞the ͢HE͡LL ̢i͡s ̶a ̧c̷h͜im̡m̕i.͞.̴.̵chimm͞i̧choon͜ga.҉ ͜An͜d why̧ no̵t͠ ͜e̷a̶t͡ th͟e̕m w͠it̴h ̕rats̛?͢ They͞ ́are the̶ b͠e̛st ͝dęĺic̀ac̡y̕ on Ea̛r̀th.̷  ❜