power, is power

Chaos isn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail, and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, but refuse. They cling to the realm, or love, or the gods…illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is. But they’ll never know this. NOT UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE. Artemisia. Ancient Vampire. 3,000. You may know me as Mayor Artemis Eickenhorst.

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

H E A D C A N O N ;; like mother, like daughter.

Artemis is incredibly selective with those she chooses to sire. She has only ever sired daughters, all of which who capture her attention with their headstrong and alpha personas, much like her own. 

[musicyoushouldlisten]

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[marcellus-eickenhorst]

Laughing, he fell down with a bang on the ground, his head cracking the wood underneath it. Beautiful mahogany was pierced by a crevice, leaving a black line drawn and even a soft sag. It was not the first and certainly not the last of her temper tantrums, not the first time she tried to bow his head and force him to submit; but both of them knew better. The second either of them became the weaker one, they’d be sentenced to death the very moment. Something was triggered — when he sat on him like that, he breathed in and his smile got even wider, the fact that she held a stake to his throat not worrying him at all, “Kinky. I like it.”

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[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

His laughter only prompted another low growl from her lips. Free palm pressing harder on his bare chest while her grip on the wooden stake tightened, the sharpened tip digging deeper into his throat, and Artemis couldn’t deny the growing pressure in the pit of her stomach. The scene around them had played out a hundred times and while she wouldn’t admit it, Artemis would never have it any other way. He was her challenge - the ultimate challenge - and if he were to cave beneath her Artemis would have been filled to the brim with disappointment and even anger. True anger. 

“Shut up.” She spat yet as his fingers ripped the fabric from her legs, Artemis didn’t protest. Instead, she dug the stake deeper into his skin, the wood only falling away as he captured her hand in his, iron grip around her wrist and as anger vibrated off of her, Artemis pressed her hips into his, rocking them back and forth teasingly as the space closed between them. “Is that the best you’ve got?” She hissed, tilting her face a bit closer, lips just ghosting over his as her bare hips pressed down even harder. 

[ripthelastpetalinhalf]

He screams trouble but you can’t resist You’ve always had  a bit of a wild side Daddy’s not gonna like this but daddy isn’t here and your latest lover is You just can’t help yourself You’ve got a stable, reliable man  waiting for you at home but he doesn’t make your blood rush or your heart race No, he makes you calm You find peace in his arms and he hands you a part of yourself that your lover doesn’t have to give He knows what you’re doing and would never consider stopping you Deep down, though, he’s hoping you’ll stop yourself

Alexis Bates, Your Husband, Hephaestus (via ripthelastpetalinhalf)

[somuchmorethanthis]

[fairytalesques]

she spun herself a crown of gold, thrones of bones and citadels. to the deaf stars she screamed: make me queen or i’ll make you bleed.

AMBITION | M.J. (via fairytalesques)

[andersondaily]

[marcellus-eickenhorst]

With a painful sound, his nose cracked and he growled grabbing Artemis by her throat , stepping back a few, in case she decided to repeat the action again, “This is heavily unfortunate, but I might need to rip some of the vertebrae out of your body, sweetheart,” voice husky and low, he frowned, fingers spinning around elegance of her pale neck quickly, like five serpents reaching the roots of her hair.  He pushed the fingertips in and and tossed her to side — so she would hit the wall at the other side of the room, or maybe hit the floor, he did not care about the result as much, the action itself was building a puzzle of pleasure in his underbelly.

[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

She hit the wall with a sound to rival thunder, the wooden boards breaking around her, and it only took a moment for Artemis to clear her sight of the dark spots that had begun clouding there. Trailing towards him, she was up in a flash, fingers already wrapping around the wooden bannister, tearing the wood apart to form a makeshift stake, and then she was on him. Her body had hurled towards his, dragging him to the ground where she sat straddled on top, the point of the wood pressing down into his neck. “Not before I have your head on a fucking spike.” She whispered, low and deadly as she stared down at him, electricity already coming alive beneath her skin. Something only he could set off in her, even after all these years. 

[andersondaily]

[fhreya]

Alexander Skarsgård for Calvin Klein (part I)

[marcellus-eickenhorst]

All he ever wanted was to change — all these clothes were sticky with human blood that made his nostrils move in response, furthermore, it was an unpleasant view to look at. And he did leave bloody steps on the carpet and on the wooden floor in the hall. So he ripped off the useless shirt appearing half naked before Artemis, already getting angry; it was only a matter of seconds before she snapped and, he knew, when she did, a flow of his own blood will dye the ground under their feet.

“S..” A short wave of pain crossed his left cheek and he froze like that, his hand immediately catching hers and pressing way too hard for it to be a friendly, calming gesture. He stepped forwards and suddenly pushed her with his whole physique, shoved her to the wall, fingers coiling around hers, threatening to break her bones, “Calm the fuck down. Are you going to force me into breaking your spine? Locking you up, again? Or perhaps,” Marcellus cleared his throat, leaning towards her face, crushing her body with his own even harder, “Perhaps all you ever wanted was a touch. Are you jealous, Artemisia?”

[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

Before her fingers had passed over his cheek completely, her hand was already locked in his, body against the wall, and she became increasingly aware of the crushing pressure on her hand in his as well as the way his form tried to smother hers. Rather than relaxing into it, rather than falling into submission, she pressed back, back arched away from the wall as she lessened the space between them. 

And as the threats passed his lips, anger boiled, but nothing quite as rabid as his play on her envy rolled over her. Fire burst beneath her skin and almost instantly, her fangs slipped down, a low hiss escaping as she fought to bring her face closer to his. “I’d prefer a cage over you. At least a cage provides a challenge.” She spat, voice acid and before she could think better of it, Artemisia threw herself forward with all the strength she had, forehead colliding with his his nose. 

[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

Every time I end up breaking you You change into Something worth keeping Every time I'm close to saving you You grow into A sin worth believing You're everything I ever wanted but It's never enough You're never enough

I hate you when you're gone I hate you turn me on I hate the way I need you when I don't know where you are I love it even more When I find you on the floor I know you think you hate me But I will always hate you more

[artemisiatheancientdeviants-blog]

She saw him and she saw red. And while she stood a head shorter than him, her eyes bore into his, anger practically rolling off her ivory skin. After all these years, all these lifetimes, he was still the only one capable of wrapping his fingers around her cold heart and forcing it to pump. She paid no mind to the red ribbons dripping down her lips, nor the equally crimson sight down his neck and shirt. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was her need to rid herself of him, purge herself of the anger bubbling in her. Rip him from her veins and free herself from his grasp and Artemis saw the words leave his lips before they did. As if it were instinct, her hand shot out, a loud slap against his cheek in order to silence him. 

[andersondaily]

[andersondaily]

[andersondaily]

[andersondaily]