epistrefei

[epistrefei]

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"Does it matter what I say?" The spirit asks all too coyly, chasing Zahrosa's lips as she pulls away. The lack of her proximity is immediately noticeable to the spirit—this buzzing, electric thing, the thing that they feel every time that they are together. Like a magnet, like a hidden, imperious force that cannot be argued with—like gravity.

Artemis knows all too well that the sorceress will do whatever pleases her. It is perfect. It fills a void within her. A terrible, deranged thing that they could only give one another.

They watch with half-lidded eyes and take in how lovely Zahrosa looks between her legs like this. She has an urge to snap all of her bindings now—to let them flutter about while she held Zahrosa's mouth to her just like that, olive digits threaded haphazardly into shocking hair.

"My pretty one," Artemis murmurs, and descends into a curl of carnal desire. Zahrosa weaves her between her fingers and tongue with a skill unmatched. The low, nearly growling tremor of her voice fizzles into a brief hiss as the sensation of ecstasy and pain war within them in equal amounts.

Then Zahrosa is massaging that—just right—there—

"Zahrosa," the Goddess keens, struggling and trying to push into the sensation, to crush herself against all of the blonde, "I—I'm going to—" She warns, gasping and writhing in a lovely juxtaposition.

Indeed, one of the anchors in the wall cracks and tumbles to the floor in spectacular fashion—and Artemis wastes no time dragging the entire thing along the floor while she grabs Zahrosa by the hair to hold her sinful mouth against her clit.

Zahrosa laughs softly against the Goddess' skin; she always enjoys this so very much. She bites at them, laves her tongue over irritated skin, tugs to the pain point and then lets go. She hooks a finger into Artemis' entrance and pulls her open as though to peer inside, leaning away from the other in order to watch her properly.

"Hmm. Does that mean I ought to do what I believe will please you, or what I would have done to myself?" she teases, and begins alternating between dipping her fingers into Artemis' hot insides and toying with her tormented labia. It's not a terribly genuine question except for where it implies two possibilities: the first being her focusing on Artemis' enjoyment, the second being the challenge of inflicting what Rosie would want. Rosie's body has quite different limits than Artemis', after all, and she does love to push them.

In truth, Zahrosa will do whatever she pleases until Artemis chooses to flip the script. Just now she finally moves, kneeling herself oh-so-prettily between Artemis' pinned legs and lowering her mouth to suck at the Goddess' swollen clit.

Her fingers curl and curve, both satisfying the Goddess and slowly pushing small amounts of the burning salve into her most sensitive parts. Rosie makes sure to find a remaining glob of the stuff and massage it into their g-spot, sweet torment combined with her clever tongue.

Why, she does rather feel the need to show off, after all.

[epistrefei]

Artemis sits on a wooden chair just next to the vampire. Something is telling of the way the spirit suddenly comes to life, albeit delayed—they had been sitting there waiting for quite some time. For Billie to say something. Do something. A film of dust nearly dissipates into the air from how unnaturally still the spirit had been.

"You do not need to thank me," she reassures her, taking the trembling hand within the cage of her own. She is so warm compared to the vampire. Billie looks so frail. "I will find who did this. I will kill them." Artemis pauses. "No, I will not. There are things much worse than death." The spirit speaks darkly, gaze faraway.

She blinks and resumes tending to Billie. Softly, they bring Billie's hand to their lips, mouth moving. "What do you need?" They ask quietly.

The cool dark is a relief - some of the tension drains from Billie's shoulders once the threat of sunrise is gone.

Her body will heal, eventually, but it takes a toll. And in Billie's clearer moments, she wonders if her attackers knew something, given the burn of Holy Water she could feel when she moved.

The sound has her cracking an eye open, easily able to find Artemis' figure in the dark. So she hadn't dreampt it. The spirit had been the one to find her - and gratitude has small pink tears beading at the corners of her eyes.

"Artemis," A hand extends for them - and a keen eye will notice the way it trembles. Curled in on herself like this, Billie must look impossibly small. "Thankyou. I'm sorry."

[epistrefei]

another kiss prompt

a kiss to make up for an argument

a dominating kiss to end an argument 

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness 

a kiss against shoulder blades as arms wrap around from behind 

a kiss against the shoulder after waking up beside each other 

a kiss to distract

a kiss against tear stained cheek

a kiss on the brow 

a kiss where they’re both covered in blood

a kiss after one muse has killed for the other 

a kiss after one muse has injured the other 

a kiss between enemies who should be fighting 

a kiss between exes who meant to walk away 

a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling 

an adoring kiss because the other is rambling 

a kiss to end sexual tension 

an angry kiss 

a tearful kiss 

a kiss to prove a point 

a hesitant kiss 

a kiss from one muse who should be afraid of the other 

a kiss from a muse who the other should be afraid of 

kisses scattered along hardened jaw to try and sooth 

a kiss as if trying to answer a question 

a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort 

a kiss from someone the other didn’t think thought of them that way 

a kiss that says thank you 

a kiss on the corner of the mouth,  hoping for more but expecting nothing 

an exploratory kiss,  testing the waters between them 

a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep 

a kiss against the cheek after discovering the other is napping 

a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion 

a kiss to comfort both parties

a kiss stemmed from relief 

a kiss to make the other believe professed feelings 

a possessive kiss to remind the other who they belong to 

a possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other

a kiss stemmed from jealousy 

a kiss to make someone else jealous 

a biting,  passionate kiss 

a kiss against the neck which feels more like a bite,  teeth bruising skin 

a desperate kiss as if they are convinced they’ll slip through each other’s fingers 

a kiss to make each other feel alive 

a kiss stolen away in a corner,  ignoring crowds 

a kiss after being pulled into an alley to have a moment to themselves 

a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close 

a kiss to convince the other to stay 

a kiss like they’re trying to convince the other to love them 

a hopeful kiss in the rain

a desperate kiss in the rain 

an angry kiss in the rain 

a possessive kiss in the rain 

a playful,  happy kiss in the rain 

a passionate kiss stemmed from previous heartbreak in the rain 

a kiss in the rain to make up like it’s a damn romcom 

a kiss in the rain filled with the foreboding of a goodbye 

a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn 

a kiss after treating a wound 

a defiant kiss 

a kiss between partners in crime in front of someone they hold captive 

a kiss to anger a third party 

an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime 

a surprise kiss just because the other couldn’t stop thinking about it 

[epistrefei]

( BRUSH ) brushing mine’s hair. / ankha....

It takes all of two minutes until the deity has practically melted into Ankhirmaa's tender actions. The relief is palpable in removing the braid—so intricately woven, it is done nowadays without a thought to spare. Her hair is much longer than it appears, and upon the cascade of it, the silver streaks become so much more prominent.

Artemis says nothing for fear of shattering the moment. They crave the softness in which Ankha strokes the brush through her tresses. She feels the light press of the warrior's calloused fingers just against the side of her neck where their pulse is.

Eventually, the stiff, stone-like muscles of her shoulders lower and relax. She leans back into the curve of Ankhirmaa's body and reaches up to stop the brushing. Instead, the brush is tossed aside, and Artemis draws Ankha's arms around her to hold their hands close to her heart.

[epistrefei]

GOD forgive me guys i recently increased one of my meds and it's just making me absolutely bonkers the last two days i am literally Vibrating so mind the increased activity!!!!!

[epistrefei]

--

It is true, the pair of them are perhaps the most flexible lovers in multiple regards that either one of them has had in quite some time. Truly, when it had dawned upon them just how much further they could venture due to their unique physical traits (whether god-given or purely magical), it was difficult to parse one from the other. They thrilled and challenged each other in equal amounts; centuries onwards, and still they did not grow bored.

Artemis hisses both at the renewed sting of the welts upon her skin and the feeling of fingers parting her with no warning. Her body welcomes them easily; it is no puzzle in regards to her level of desire. The deity was nigh insatiable at this time. Given the last few months...

Well, normally they would not even notice the passage of time. They certainly did when it came to this.

"You—" Artemis tries, but instead stifles an overly pleased sound. She can do nothing but breathe for a moment while the sorceress' teeth indent her skin and her tongue presses warmly at the divots. "Cruel," she exhales, eyes fluttering. All too soon they are empty, all too soon they are assaulted with various discomforts.

Her chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm. Zahrosa is right, Artemis does look a mess. She only tilts her head back to stare the blonde in the face. "That sounds like a challenge," the deity notes, piquing an eyebrow. She chuckles and says, "Perhaps if you do a good enough job I will entertain doing the same to you, hm? How does that sound?"

Rosie only grins more brightly as Artemis expresses her hatred, utterly unconvinced. The other certainly has enough vitriol, however, and Rosie does adore seeing that in her lover.

The sorceress laughs, head tipping briefly up toward the point where dust falls from as though she delights in seeing it. It's an open secret between them that Zahrosa would surely love Artemis to flip the power dynamic just as much as she would love to continue being the one in control; aside from the times that one of them feels some special need to be on one side or the other, they can be quite versatile. Besides, Artemis simply does it so well— it is truly a pleasure to witness her break free and enact her revenge.

For now, Rosie's hand darts down to slip her fingers within Artemis very deliberately, pushing between her swollen folds to curl and press deliberately. She knows that her jostling will renew the sensation a little, but she crushes hard pressure against Artemis' clit at the same time, playing one against the other.

"Hmm?" Rosie leans closer, nips at their earlobe playfully. "What were you saying?"

The sorceress' slim fingers retreat for a second, though only to pull and play with Artemis' folds. She stretches sensitive flesh, pulling taut, massages too-tight between her harsh fingertips. "If I were up here I would hardly be able to look more of a mess, hmm?"

[epistrefei]

Seduction Starters

A mix of actions that focus on the seduction/pinning. Inspiration taken from an array of different memes to put them all together in this one. Feel free to mix prompts to make more specific ones or if reverse them.

send in one of these for my muse’s (RECEIVER) reaction to your muse (SENDER) …

( DOOR ) opening the door for mine to pass.

( STARE ) longingly staring at mine from across the room.

( WATCH ) watching mine while drinking their beverage.

( TOUCH ) “accidentally” briefly touching mine. (example: brief hand touch, knee under the table)

( HOLD ) holding mine’s hand.

( HAND ) kissing mine’s hand.

( GIFT ) giving mine a gift. (example: flowers, jewellery)

( FLOWER ) putting a flower in mine’s hair.

( LETTER ) sending mine a love letter.

( LOCK ) offering my muse a lock of their hair.

( LEAN ) leaning against mine’s side.

( FIX ) fixing or straightening my mine’s clothes.

( DANCE ) leaning in closer while they are slow dancing with mine.

( COMPLIMENT ) complimenting mine.

( STAR ) staring at mine instead of the stars while stargazing.

( PLAY ) playing with mine’s hair.

( BRUSH ) brushing mine’s hair.

( LIP ) biting or licking their lower lip.

( SING ) singing to mine.

( GRAZE ) grazing mine’s shoulders with their fingers.

( BECKON ) beckoning to follow them.

( SLIDE ) sliding down their hand down mine’s back.

( CHIN ) grabbing mine’s chin.

( SILENCE ) silencing mine’s by pressing their finger on mine’s lips.

( PUSH ) pushing against the wall. (example: rough or soft pushing against wall)

( SIT ) sitting on their lap.

( HIP ) pulling mine by the hips.

( FACE ) stroking mine’s face.

( HOVER ) hovering their lips over mine’s.

( NECK ) kissing mine’s neck.

( GRIP ) holding mine by the back of the neck.

( SURPRISE ) being found without an article of clothing (example: being found shirtless)

( SECRET ) arriving where they both agreed to meet in secret in the dead of night.

[epistrefei]

once again i must emphasize the importance to me that i use indigenous faceclaims for artemis <3 cara gee, the original fc, was a member of the ojibwe and savonna spracklin, artemis' current fc, is a member of nisga'a nation!

i also really enjoy talking about indigenous culture and traditions in relation to her portrayal in general. i am of the mind that there is absolutely a special connection between her, as nature, and the indigenous peoples

[epistrefei]

Stop making me have earthly desires

pretending this ask was sent to me by a lithe and pathetic young catholic priest with sad eyes who's never felt this way before and is also tired and shaking and sweating and miserable

[epistrefei]

Artemis' smile only grows. It was not every day that they argued, but over something as tedious and menial as a Ouija board? It was well worth the entertainment and the comfortable seat provided by none other than Zahrosa.

She drapes her arms over the sorceress's shoulders and idly plays with the pirate hat. Judging by the look on her face, it is completely obvious that she thinks the blonde is adorable right now.

"Do you have one, then? Tell me you have a board poked away in one of the cabinets. Then we will not be forced to use a beautiful and luxurious plastic Ouija board and planchette," Artemis insists with a grin. "Perhaps you have a hand-carved board borne from mahogany or whale bone, yes?"

They reach out and teasingly pretends to drag a planchette over Zahrosa's face. "The spirits are speaking. They say... Zahrosa Archaki must obey every demand from her wife."

Artemis' smile widens, knowing just how badly they have scrambled Zahrosa's brain when she does not even bother to argue for a moment. It was something like entertaining a cat with a toy before it batted at you.

"It is not a toy," the deity corrects, "Perhaps a toy company has taken possession of the manufacturing, but they do predate being sold commercially to children, you know." Artemis opens her mouth and stops, watching rather forlornly as her wife shoves the eyepatch down the front of her shirt.

They purse their lips. Then, in an act of defiance, she removes her pirate hat and places it atop Zahrosa's crown instead. "You cannot push that down my shirt." All too smugly. She continues, "I would think that you would be familiar with spiritualists using the boards sometime in the eighteenth century."

[epistrefei]

[ REPUTATION ]: the sender, being somewhat infamous in the area, arrives when the receiver is being hassled, causing the assailants to flee rather than risk the consequences of crossing them. / rosie in the way-back-when

There is something rather irritating about these circumstances—perhaps that the villagers did not truly know what they were dealing with, even as they chanted and cursed and screamed at the one they deemed to be a witch.

"We should have known from the eyes," one of them, an older man, says. "The devil's eyes. She is a prophet of Baphomet!"

Her wrists are bound together by a scratchy rope that is fraying before she even tests the strength to see how easily she could snap it. The rest of her is bound, too, affixed to the large cross the Anglo-Saxons had carved specifically for them. With every swing and jostle as they approach the large stone hearth to prop up the entire cross in, Artemis winces, tears drying along the dark planes of their cheeks from the earlier flogging and beating.

They should rain fire upon them all. They were a deity, a spirit—they should slay them all where they stand. But then what?

The flames are just beginning to heat the soles of the deity's feet when the villagers suddenly disperse and mutter to themselves. About forces that they should not tamper with—

Artemis barely twists from her position to catch a glimpse at the anomaly. A woman—skinny, gaunt, power radiating from the deceptive body. It is this that draws a half-manic laugh from the brunette.

"Oh, I have a saviour," she exclaims, grinning wolfishly among the flame and smoke. The flames lick at her feet, and they blacken—before reverting to unharmed skin, and then blackening again, over and over.

[epistrefei]

— via knjfedog

[epistrefei]

VERSES (WIP)

01. FIREWATCH

Diana Azak-Mehner is a recluse who is running away from a troubled family life. She enlisted herself to be posted at a Firewatch tower in the remote Canadian wilderness for several months. Alone and effectively cut off from the rest of the world's communication, one would expect this to be Diana's dream--but the surrounding boreal forest has much more lurking within it than a potential blaze.

02. SUDNO

The spirit of the wilderness has burrowed in a remote Russian village among the struggling, aging population. It is a desolate and frigid environment teeming with life ever since the nearby mine shut down nearly two decades ago.

Superstitious as they are, the villagers know that this mysterious stranger is not of the human variety. At least, not in any capacity that they could know. Some of them have embraced this newfound guardian while others are suspicious and hostile.

WIP

[epistrefei]

"I did not say anything about good," Artemis responds with a hint of impatience. "Simply that it is integral to nature. To existing. To life on Earth."

The fish would eat the worm, and the bird would eat the fish, and the bear would eat the bird, and so on and so forth. Yes, death was scary, and gruesome at times, and unpleasant. Yes, yes, yes.

They twist their mouth into a frown and do not have a response for Ankhirmaa that could dignify her point. The petty part of them wants to lambast the notion of fear--but that was their own insecurity floating to the surface. Artemis had not experienced death. Not in any permanent form, anyways.

"Isn't it odd that we are here?" She says finally. "I, who has never once experienced death aside from in fleeting moments, in singular lifetimes, and you, who experiences it so much that it is nearly a habit."

Ankhirmaa's chin tips up further, the firelight catching on her jaw, the prominence of her cheekbones. "You wanna point out to me the bit where I said it would be a good thing, huh?"

She says it mildly, no venom beneath her words. Ankha had just meant— well, she had just meant that she knows it's not as big of a deal as she sometimes makes it out to be. She feels as though she makes too much of a fuss, sometimes. It's stupid to be concerned that her reaction to death is too upsetting to Artemis, the one who must witness it most often, but she feels it all the same.

"You couldn't make people stop, anyway. Even if they knew what came next. Even if they would come back. It's scary feel your body give up."

[epistrefei]

Artemis' smile widens, knowing just how badly they have scrambled Zahrosa's brain when she does not even bother to argue for a moment. It was something like entertaining a cat with a toy before it batted at you.

"It is not a toy," the deity corrects, "Perhaps a toy company has taken possession of the manufacturing, but they do predate being sold commercially to children, you know." Artemis opens her mouth and stops, watching rather forlornly as her wife shoves the eyepatch down the front of her shirt.

They purse their lips. Then, in an act of defiance, she removes her pirate hat and places it atop Zahrosa's crown instead. "You cannot push that down my shirt." All too smugly. She continues, "I would think that you would be familiar with spiritualists using the boards sometime in the eighteenth century."

It's definitely not cheating. Rosie is all ready to argue this point when Artemis plops herself down in her lap, powerful thighs warm against Rosie's own legs, quite effectively distracting her from the point as Zahrosa laces her fingers into the stockings, pressing against warm skin.

Of course, it doesn't entirely stop her griping. "No self-respecting spirit will speak to you on such a tacky toy," Zahrosa claims, and turns her cheek to allow Artemis to kiss her more easily. "A curse from such a feeble-minded ghoul would not even stir the air in this cottage."

Zahrosa flicks a sidelong glance at Artemis, pauses a second, and then reaches up to remove the foolish eyepatch. Refusing to take her other hand from Artemis' thigh to put the patch back onto Artemis properly, she simply stuffs it down the front of her wife's shirt for safekeeping. "On your own head be it."

[epistrefei]

Artemis gestures rather wildly with the small pocketknife in hand. Should probably be a little more careful, but the subject has titillated them.

"Yes! They would shake the jar up to make them angry and then they would throw them like a grenade." Stuffs a piece of the apple into her mouth and keeps talking, though it's muffled and staccato due to chewing. "It worked quite well, if you knew what you were doing. Fireflies make for good lanterns, but I always released them when I was done with them."

The deity pauses and watches August for a brief moment. The apples in her bag were meant for their horse, but this was a better cause. The horse was too fat anyways. They offer yet more apple to him.

should the subject function like a distraction, it easily and quickly serves its purpose. (since sullen-eyed august was instantly absorbed. as a moth to a flame would.) apple slice in hand, he eats the fruit, gaze locked onto jar. “ i’ve caught fireflies in a jar. ” somewhat nostalgic murmur. but bees in a jar, that’s gotta be a new one.

“ for real, yo, as weapons? ” sympathetic wince. and quietest crunch of apple. he’s really, really hungry. “ did they just chuck the jar...like a grenade? ” the action of a grenade thrown is mimed.

[epistrefei]

I went to Finnish forest and met this guy, 14km away from the road.