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losersiren · 14 days

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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option.

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-”

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

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brarillc · 1 year

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When her story is about to repeat itself and my dreams of being even bigger are starting to show and the support is coming I have to pay homage to the woman who made it all possible!! #blackentrepreneurs #femaleentrepreneur #femalesupremacy #femaleempowerment #madamcjwalker #networth #trillionaire #billionaire #servants #goddess #gods #yahweh #lineage #family #fortune #master #guard #guide #women #black #entrepreneur #entrepreneurship #fortune500 #forbes #grammys #nickiminaj #beyonce #lilkim #missyelliott #ciara https://www.instagram.com/p/CnKDt2IreJw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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ocean-not-found · 3 months

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Current Altar to Our Lady Mary.

Queen of Heaven & Queen of my Heart 🖤

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duskiers · 2 months

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Enchanted Beginnings

Percy / Aphrodite!Reader

Percy falls for the new Aphrodite daughter, leading to a series of amusing mishaps as he's too distracted by her presence. With a little help from Grover, Percy finally connects with her ☆

First request woop woop 🙌 💗

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🕊️︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

The day you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, the sky was painted with strokes of pink and orange, heralding your entrance into a world where myths breathed and heroes walked. Percy Jackson, already a seasoned hero in the eyes of many, found himself at the archery range, his focus far from the quiver and bow. The camp was busy with the arrival of new demigods, but one in particular seemed to capture everyone’s attention before the gods themselves claimed her as their own. You, with your grace and an aura that seemed to whisper of Aphrodite's lineage, had barely crossed the camp's threshold before a glowing symbol of the goddess appeared above your head, sealing your divine heritage.

From across the field, Percy caught sight of you, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow. Everything about you fascinated him—the way you moved with effortless grace, your smile that seemed to light up the surroundings, and the kindness in your eyes that spoke of a gentle strength. He was so captivated that he hardly noticed Grover, his best friend, approaching.

"Who is that?" Percy's voice was a mix of wonder and curiosity, his gaze fixed on you as you laughed at something another camper said.

Grover followed his gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "That's the new girl. Daughter of Aphrodite, and it seems like she's already making quite the impression!" he teased, elbowing Percy lightly.

In the days that followed, Percy found himself drawn to you, often going out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you during training or meals. However, his attempts at nonchalance led to a series of comical mishaps—walking into door frames, tripping over nothing at all, and yes, even walking straight into a window, all because he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Grover, witnessing Percy's increasing clumsiness and the amused whispers of their fellow campers, decided it was time for intervention. He made up a plan to finally push Percy into taking action, rather than just daydreaming about you from afar.

One sunny afternoon, as you were returning from a strategy session with Annabeth, Grover saw his opportunity. With a quick, "Trust me" whispered to Percy, he gave him a not-so-gentle push, sending him stumbling directly into your path.

The collision was gentle, but unexpected, causing you to catch Percy in your arms in a moment of surprise. "Whoa! Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you helped him.

Percy, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, sorry, I just... lost my footing.." he stuttered, internally cursing his lack of grace.

"I'm Percy , " he introduced himself, though a part of him worried you might have already heard of his less-than-graceful moments around camp.

You laughed, a sound that to Percy felt like music. "I know who you are. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus. I'm [Name]." you said, extending your hand in greeting.

What followed was a conversation that flowed more naturally than Percy could have hoped for. He found himself opening up about his adventures, the burdens he carried, and the simple joys of camp life. In return, you shared your own journey to Camp Half-Blood, the fears, and excitement that came with discovering your heritage, and the hope of finding a place where you truly belonged.

Grover watched from a distance, a satisfied grin on his face as he saw the two of you laughing together, completely at ease. He had no doubt that this was the beginning of something special.

In the weeks that followed, Percy and you grew closer, spending hours talking by the lake, training together in the arena, and sharing quiet moments under the stars. Percy, who had once been so entranced by your beauty, found himself even more captivated by your spirit—your kindness, your bravery, and your unwavering support.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Percy found the courage to express his feelings. Sitting together by the lake, he took your hand in his, his heart racing.

"[Name], from the moment I saw you, I was... well, I was in awe. But it's not just about how you look. It's everything about you—your kindness, your strength, your courage. You've become someone very important to me" he admitted, "and I keep finding more reasons to be amazed by you every day." his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of nervousness.

Your smile in response was all the assurance Percy needed. "Percy , you've been my rock since I arrived here. You've shown me what it means to be a true hero—not just through your deeds, but through your heart.." You respond with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I’m glad Grover pushed you into me that day," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Percy laughed, a sound filled with happiness and relief. "Me too. Me too."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you both sat there, talking about everything and nothing. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you <3

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eydi-andrius · 10 months

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Clear Lilac Eyes (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

summary: Aemond had bowed and prayed, something he had never done before no matter how hard his life had been.

cw/tw: fluff, a bit of angst and hurt, aemond is a good husband, a dad and a king, childbirth, blood, implied war, patriarchy, threats, mentions of violence, threats and tags are not exhausted. Let me know if I miss anything

a/n: Wrote this as an alternate ending for Don't Get Sad, Get Even but I thought it was too positive so I wrote it as a standalone.

Also, I posted this as a celebration as my blog turned THREE (3) today! YAY! 🎉🥳 Mannnnn, I used to be a lurker on this app then I started craving for my whatifs then wrote them. To celebrate, I will post for all the characters I have written so far and it includes this one. And maybe I have something in store for the others. 👀 A much awaited comeback hehehehehe if you have any request, you may send me an ask! 🥰 I may write them. 👀 Anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!

Likes and reblogs are welcome!

💚

There was an air of uneasiness that chokes out the life of those who breathe it in. The flicker of fire from the torches and the quiet of the hallways made an eerie atmosphere in the Red Keep.

The shadows, the footfalls and the swish of clothings intensifies the feeling of distress in every mortal present at the birth of the King's child.

This was an important event for the realm as this child may become the first heir to this new era of dragons.

All the dragon-blood and silver-haired were almost wiped during the dance of dragons which happened for only a year.

Except for one.

With his wit and strategy, Aemond Targaryen was able to win the war and was crowned king.

He was vicious and no one could deny him of his throne. Once the swords were down and the white flags were raised, all heads bowed to him.

However, right now, the King's head was bowed to only one, the Mother. The Goddess of Birth.

While the realm was weary for his heir, he was scared to lose the love of his life.

She had always expressed her fear of giving birth. When they were young, she had said to him that if she had a choice, she would rather not give birth. During that time, he thought it was silly. No one can run from their purpose. Especially her, whose sole purpose was to continue her family's lineage. She was a noble and a girl. There was no way for her to continue life without giving birth.

Another blood curdling scream broke from her inside the room. It was loud. Terrifyingly loud. His gut twisted in fear. He had promised her not to enter the chambers while she gives birth but something was egging him on to force his way inside and to stay by her side.

The room was filled with the familiar sweet metallic scent of blood. He had grown accustomed to it on the battlefield and never once the sight repulsed him. However, the white sheets and the white clothes worn by the maester and midwives were all covered in blood. Her blood. There was too much blood around her. The sickening feeling swirling inside of him tore new fear as he rushed forward and watched her delicate face, pale and deathly. Her lips dry and her hands cold to the tips.

"My Lady wife, look at me, my dear. I beg of you " He watched her closely as her eyes fluttered softly at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and tried her best to give a smile but the look of it made him regret forcing her to go through the pain of giving birth. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him before it closed with a deep sigh. He squeezed her cold hands with worry - he prayed that the Mother will show his wife mercy, as she did to all the mothers who had gone through similar pain.

A tiny scream of life caught his attention. He looked behind him and there it was, his child. He never saw that she had finally given birth and was blinded with worry as he rushed in. His small bundle of joy was wrapped in the familiar green and gold linen his mother used for him when he was born. His pride and joy finally came and his heart was filled with unfamiliar warmth. He had never felt like this before.

Without removing his hand that held his wife, he asked the maester to help him place his little dragon on his free arm. The silver protruding hairs on his head had proven he was his child. He looks so small, so full of life as it cries and he shushes him. He had never felt more at ease as he was surrounded with his family. The family he chooses and who chooses him. His love for them runs deeply and he could never express how grateful he was for them.

"It is a girl." The sound of the maester's voice brought him back to where he was sitting and he looked at him. The maester's face did not hide his disappointment but he will forgive him for now.

A girl?

A smile broke through him and he apologized inside his head to his daughter as he called her wrong. With a gesture of love, he placed his nose on top of hers and his heart was full as he heard her stop crying and coo at him.

He was overfilled with happiness. It feels like nothing could go wrong.

However, his joy was short-lived when he felt his wife's hand loosen its grip to his. He had now realized her palm was colder, almost like ice. His head whipped in her direction and he saw the familiar feeling of impending death.

No. Please. Not her either.

The wrong feeling in his gut came back again and he ordered the maester to help his wife. They rushed forward and he stepped back as he cradled the child, who was now peacefully sleeping on his arm. She must have been tired as she forced her way out to this world. She was so innocent and pure that she did not realize the terror that was eating away at his father's core.

He had watched them closely as they tried their best to bring his lady wife back to life. She looks so small, and fragile. He was afraid that they would break her as they moved back and forth to revive her.

The wet nurse of his child had asked and begged him to go out but he refused to do so and did not leave the room until the maester had told him that his wife was safe from harm. No one could tell when she would wake up but he was relieved that she could recover now.

At last, he had entrusted his child to her caretaker and asked the others to leave them be. Him alone with his wife. He waited for the sound of the door closing, before he broke down. With shaking limbs and eyes blurry with tears, he cried and kissed her hand.

He apologized for what he had put her through. He apologized for what she had to witness.

He apologized for exposing her to violence.

He apologized and apologized until there wasn't anything he could say to her.

If the life of his wife would be the retribution for his sins then he would never forgive himself.

That night, on his knees, he prayed and prayed for her to get better until there were no words he could utter to the Mother.

💚

Three days had passed and she was still asleep. He had smiled at her sleeping form as he recalled his interaction he had with his daughter. She was fussy and loud, just like her mother. He knew she would grow up with her mother's tenacity and boldness.

Ignoring her pale face and thin body, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued his story. This was worse than war. Sitting beside her and watching as she fights for her life. Waiting and not being able to help her. He hoped that his stories would make her feel strong.

He never liked the idea of her missing the growth of their child. He knew her better and this will make her sad. She had expressed that she had always wished for her mother to see her grow when she was young but she died too early for her to even remember her face, which people had claimed that they looked quite a lot like each others'.

He could never deny that there is no moment that he never missed her. Every inch and corner of Red Keep reminds him of her. Half of his life was him being with her. He wanted each and every waking moment of his was to be with her.

Swallowing his selfishness and pride, again, he prayed for her to get well and wake up soon. He bargained to all of the Gods that he will do anything and pay for it in his power to make it come true.

💚

The council room was obnoxiously loud. He watched them quietly like a hunter, staring down its prey.

If he had the choice, he would be with his daughter and wife. But alas, he had to create a strong foundation for this new nation for his lovely daughter. He had to muster all the patience he had to stay still and listen to them.

After the discussion about the trade and economy, suddenly, all the old men present looked at him warily. Even without them uttering a word, he knew what they would tell him.

A searing hot anger rises through him but he feels calm. Calm enough to not hesitate to stab and kill with ease, just like what he did during the war. Or maybe he could ask Vhagar to bite them off in half or burn them alive.

"Congratulations on having a girl, your grace. How was she?" He forgot that man's name but he believed the one who first opened his mouth was a Baratheon.

"My girl was doing well." He replied curt and short.

He saw how some of the men gulped in nervousness at the sound of his voice. He intended for them to feel the venom and challenge them to continue so he can cut their tongue. They looked nervous and fear was all over their features. Only Larys and Cregan, looked somewhat calm and remained quiet.

"We're happy to h-hear that." The Baratheon continued with eyes wandering around his allies, like a helpless sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Aemond moved back and leaned on his chair, he wanted to see them all on a better view. He lay his head to his hand as he stared them down.

The silence was loud as everyone stayed seated and waited for each other. No one dares to. They were afraid. Aemond, the King, was ruthless. They knew bloodshed would be inevitable if they opened their mouths to speak about the dying Queen and the King having no heir after she gave birth to a daughter.

Each one prefers their head intact, except for one. Or maybe the wise old folk of the North had better places to be and so he started the conversation with a tired sigh.

"I thought you have something to say about the Queen, boy." He looked at the young Baratheon who was seated across him with emotionless eyes.

The Baratheon stared at Cregan and the air shifted. The old wolf calling his name had given him confidence to open his mouth and talk about the real reason why this council meeting was held in the first place.

"Your grace, as much as we all pray for the Queen to get better. Please understand that we talk about this with the clearest intention in mind. After what happened to the Queen and the uncertainty of her health, we believed that it would be better to take another wife…..for the sake of our budding kingdom. In that way, we could secure an heir." He spoke with an air of superiority. As if he truly knew what he was talking about.

Aemond stared at the man. He doesn't know how long it was but he just looked at him. The silence was uncomfortable and some of the gentlemen in front of him looked nervous as they waited for him to speak.

"Y-your grace?" After some time, the Baratheon spoke again.

He breathed in and finally, with an intense stare at the fool in front of him, he spoke with a neutral chilling tone.

"Did you know how the war started in the first place, boy?" He tipped his head and waited for an answer.

Not knowing what to reply, the Baratheon boy blinked and looked around for help. But when no one could give him an answer he replied, confused.

"Your grace?"

"When my beloved lady wife was almost dying from childbirth, I suddenly remembered how and why we were all here. Why thousands of lives were lost. Why did dragons almost die and were wiped out?" He said with a menacing smirk.

"You see, it started on this very council. Who were greedy for power to have the dragon blood on their lineage. To have their blood on the throne. And a foolish king who wore his heart on his sleeves. Those greedy old men pretended to truly care for him by using the memory of his wife and in the end feasted on his heart, voraciously. "He was way too lenient for his own good and once he realized he was being used, it was too late to change anything." My mother once told me.

And I — I always saw my father as someone who swims along the current because he trusts way too easily, not knowing that there were sharp rocks waiting for him at the end. Even if I knew he wouldn't give me the love of a father as he should, I respect him for being the king. I believed he did his best to be a good one and a fair father to us. It doesn't mean it was enough though."

Aemond stared from afar as he recalled how he envied his sister. How she got all the love they deserved to have too. It was never their fault to be treated that way and so he blamed all of it on her. But after the war and during the time his wife had suffered the similar fate of the former Queen, he realized how lonely his father might have felt. He realized how his sister might have suffered from being a girl. It was a strong slap on his face as he sat in the middle of this council and watched how these men didn't care about what he had to endure and how the life of his wife was the only reason why he was keeping sane. They will never understand, never.

"Your grace, w-we cannot understand-"

"Of course you wouldn't. None of you would." He cut him off before he could continue to rebuke him.

"If the Queen dies right after this meeting, those who had agreed to have me married for another one would be beheaded for treason. If she did not survive even though her body has been doing well for days, I will treat her death as intentional from all of you. Speak again of her that way, head will roll, and blood will soak the iron throne. The only reason why you do not have a mad King, who craves death, was because of her."

He stood up and did not care with the way the men yelled in unison of their protest against what he said. The only ones who stayed seated were Larys and Cregan, who both shook their heads. He did not care if they agreed with him. His wife will not die and he will protect her even if it means he has to be a Mad King.

💚

He stayed seated beside her, just like what he has been doing these days.

He chooses to be with her at night. He cannot stand to sleep in their room without her. It feels empty and cold.

The barren room, even though filled with gold and riches, feels like another room in a gloomy castle.

Each night, he stayed with her. Talk to her until he falls asleep on her side. He will either hold her hand or weave his hand through her hair, to soothe her. Sometimes, he even sings to her in High Valyrian, hoping that she will hear him and finally open her eyes. She always tells him she loves his voice when he speaks his native tongue.

He waited and waited but it seems like today was like any other night. She needed a whole day of sleep to recuperate. He slowly closed his eyes after he kissed her goodnight. And prayed again that tomorrow, is the day she will smile at him again.

A caress…

He cannot help but smile at the soft feathery caress on his face. It reminds him so much of how she wakes him up in the morning. What a beautiful dream..

A dream…

He frowned when he realized it was just a dream. She was still asleep and sick. And with his brows knit together, he relinquished the soft touch of fingers on his face. It feels familiar and welcoming.

Just a bit more, he wanted to feel that she's with him.

He was slowly going back to sleep, after what happened today, he seemed tired than usual, and it did not take long as the sleep tugged him back again when a tap jolted him awake.

Even though the war ended a long time ago, his senses were still heightened and he was glad he wasn't wearing his sword or so he probably would have killed whoever forcefully woke him up.

A smile….

He stared, mouth agape, when he saw you giving him a tired smile. He blinked and then, he panicked as he rushed forward at you, careful not to hurt you with his weight.

"My love.." He said with so much worry in his voice. He was feeling the tears threatening to come out of his eyes as he gazed at her pale face and dry lips. He doesn't even know how he will touch her. A moment of hesitation, his hands stopped midair as he panics that he might break her. What if he hurt her unintentionally and she fell asleep again?

He watched her as she tried to move her mouth but failed. She swallowed and tried again. This time he went to where the water and cup was placed and he helped her up to drink. She was thirsty and her mouth is probably dry from being asleep for a long time. Aemond calm yourself! She needed you more than now.

Once done, he carefully assisted her to lean on the headboard and she sighed with relief.

He was just looking at her. And she was looking back at him. It took a while, the staring, until his face contorted with relief and then, he cried. He was shaking as he held her hand. She felt her fragile hands weave through his hair as she shushed him. He knew she was smiling. Glad to be back on his arms.

He never felt so relieved and so thankful.

All his life the people, his loved ones and even the gods did not like him.

No matter how much he tried his best. No matter how much he was better he will never be chosen for he was only a second son. He was there as a safety but never the one.

But you choose him. And never did your love wavered.

He never felt so hopeless when you were in pain and bedridden.

He never felt so useless despite doing his best to be the strongest for his family.

It was the first time he felt so inadequate and weak. That he gave all of his strength to kneel and pray for you whenever he could. He begged and promised that he would do anything in his power just so he could have you back.

And now, crying in your middle like a child, as you held him as tight as he did, he prayed for gratefulness.

💚

A week after you woke up, you are still not strong enough to walk outside.

You relinquished the sun on your window and watched as Aemond carried and sways your daughter.

You have a feeling that the reason why he was able to be in your room, as much as he could, was because he threatened the nobles every time they tried to stop him. You tried to talk to him once, compromising that he doesn't have to be with you, almost the whole day, but he shrugged and rolled his eyes, stating that he would rather be with his wife than be surrounded by men.

Aemond can be stubborn but he never runs from his obligations so this was truly new for you.

You giggled as you watched your lord husband's eyes widen from surprise. He was teasing your daughter by placing his finger in her small palm, when she closed and squeezed him tight, never letting go. His eyes softened when she cooed at him.

He looks so different from when they call him the one-eyed prince for being vicious and fearsome. You were truly loved by the gods for witnessing this interaction and being one of the centers of his affection.

"I will make her my heir." He said with a plain voice, as if he was asking you how you were.

"My love?" You frowned, confused. You have witnessed Rhaenyra being crowned heir and how the war started from there. What is going on?

"I will change the law to make the eldest an heir. No matter what gender they may be, they will be given the same education and treatment, fit as the next ruler. If the nobles disagree, not that I care about them, I will also add that a female heir and noble will always have a noble child. Compared to a prince, a boy, the one she would carry will have noble blood in their veins. I will use my life, my reign to establish this. My daughter will be heir and no man, no noble, will be able to take that from her." The initial worry and confusion you felt from earlier vanished, as you watched him share his plan with the softest eyes. The setting sun at the window, creating a soft silhouette of him carrying his daughter. He loves her more than the throne. Something you have never witnessed before.

It warms your heart and you never thought you would fall deeper in love with him this much in this lifetime. You will forever be happy that he chose you.

"My love…..you always prove to me why I choose you every single waking moment of my life." Without thinking you opened your mouth and spoke the words that always lingered in your end.

Surprised, he stared at you and then, he smiled in awe. You don't even need him to speak for you to know that his eyes and soften feature was him telling you that he loves you.

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lilianasgrimoire · 16 days

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Every Pagan Holiday

JANUARY

KALENDS

1st January

Origins: Ancient Greece/Rome

Observed by: Hellenic/Roman polytheists

Honouring Janus/Juno, first day of the Year. Kalends brought us the word 'calendar'.

ÞORRABLÓT (THORRABLÓT)

End of January/beginning of February

Origins: Iceland

Observed by: Heathens, Asatru

Midwinter Festival honouring Thor, usually by feasting and poetry.

FEBRUARY

IMBOLC

2nd February

Origins: Celtic polytheism /Ireland, as St. Brigid's Day

Observed by: Most neopagans, Wiccans, Druids, Asatru (as Charming of the Plow)

Imbolc is the most widely known and observed pagan holiday in the months of January and February. It falls at the beginning of spring/end of the winter for the Celtic peoples; marking the changing of the seasons, as most holidays do. St. Brigid is a Christianised form of or inspired by the Celtic fertility goddess Brigid who is celebrated on this day.

PARENTALIA

13th-21st February

Origins: Ancient Rome

Observed by: Greco-Roman polytheists

Translating to 'Ancestors Day', Parentalia is a nine-day celebration of deceased ancestors. Historically it was observed by feasting and making offerings and sacrifices to the dead and spirits of the underworld.

VÁLI'S BLOT

14th February

Origins: Old Norse

Observed by: Heathens, Asatru, Norse polytheists

Váli's Blot is considered by some Asatru to be the Norse equivalent of Valentine's Day but is widely acknowledged as a season changing festival. A day for marriage and celebrating with family and friends, and for remembrance of Váli, the son of Odin who defeated Höðr on this day.

LUPERCALIA

15th February

Origins: Ancient Rome

Observed by: Greco-Roman polytheists

Festival thought to honour a wolf who raised abandoned princes, celebrated originally by sacrificing goats to the gods, feasting, and, for fertility, nudity and fornication.

LESSER ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES

17th-23rd February

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Initiation to the cult of Persephone and Demeter by sacrificing a pig. Prelude to Greater Mysteries, initiations held on these dates. Once completed, initiates could then move onto Greater Mysteries in the autumn.

ANTHESTERIA

27th February - 1st March 2021

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Athenian festivals dedicated to Dionysus and the dead. Held around the full moon in the month of Anthesterion, which in the Gregorian calendar this year roughly translates to 27th February.

THE DISTING/DÍSABLÓT

End of February/beginning of March

Origins: Uppsala, Sweden

Observed by: Heathens, Asatru, Norse polytheists

Celebration of Valkyries and other female spirits, called dísir. Sacrifices were made for a good harvest. Celebrated still by an annual market in Sweden.

MARCH

KALENDS

1st March

Origins: Ancient Greece/Rome

Observed by: Hellenic/Roman polytheists

Honouring the god Mars/Ares. Kalends brought us the word 'calendar'.

OSTARA/EARRACH

20th March

Origins: Anglo Saxon paganism, popularised as Ostara by Wicca

Observed by: Anglo Saxon Pagans, Wiccans, Neopagans, Druids (as Alba Eilir), Heathens (as Summer Finding), Ásatrú (as Sigrblót)

The northern hemisphere's vernal equinox, the word Ostara was introduced though Wicca and named for the goddess Eostre. Surprisingly unrelated to Easter in all but name, Ostara symbolises the beginning of spring. As a seasonal holiday it is widely celebrated by many different groups of pagans.

RAGNAR LODBROK'S DAY

28th March

Origins: Icelandic Sagas

Observed by: Ásatrú

Day of remembrance for Ragnar Lodbrok, Viking King of legend

APRIL

KALENDS/VENERALIA

1st April

Origins: Ancient Greece/Rome

Observed by: Hellenic/Roman polytheists

Celebration of the first of the month, this one honouring the goddess, Venus.

REMEMBRANCE FOR HAAKON SIGURDSSON

9th April

Origins: Norway, C9th

Observed by: Ásatrú

Day of remembrance for ruler of Norway who claimed lineage to Odin in the Icelandic Sagas.

WALPURGISNACHT

30th April

Origins: German Christianity, originally Saint Walpurga was known for banishing witches and other pests

Observed by: LaVeyan Satanists

Anton LaVey chose to celebrate this holiday as a follow up to the spring equinox and due to its past association with witchcraft.

HEXENNACHT (WITCHES' NIGHT)

30th April

Origins: German folklore, as Walpurgisnacht but witches were alleged to convene with the devil in this night

Observed by: Temple of Satan as 'a solemn holiday to honour those who were victimized by superstition'.

MAY

BEALTAINE/BELTANE

1st May

Origins: Celtic (Ireland/Scotland/Isle of Man)

Observed by: Wiccans, Neopagans, Celtic reconstructionist, Ásatrú/Heathens (as May Day)

One of the more well-known pagan festivals, Beltane is a festival of fire and the beginning of the summer. Also widely referred to as May Day, it is celebrated by lighting fires.

KALENDS

1st May

Origins: Ancient Greece/Rome

Observed by: Hellenic/Roman polytheists

Honouring the goddess Maia, for whom the month may have been named.

REMEMBRANCE FOR Guðröðr of Guðbrandsdál

9th May

Origins: C11 Norway, Icelandic Sagas

Observed by: Ásatrú, Norse, heathens

Guðröðr had his tongue removed by Óláfr for rebelling against violent conversion from Norse paganism to Christianity.

JUNE

KALENDS

1st June

Origins: Ancient Greece/Rome

Observed by: Hellenic/Roman polytheists

Anniversary of temples to Juno Moneta (protectress of money, her temple was where coins were made), Mars/Ares (God of war), and the Tempestates (goddesses of storms).

ARRHEPHORIA

3rd Skirophorion (translates to mid-June)

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic reconstructionist

Feast in celebration of Athena and fertility.

MIDSUMMER/SUMMER SOLSTICE

21st June

Origins: Agricultural holiday/longest day observed for centuries by many civilisations. Christianity can date to as early as C4th

Observed by: Wiccans/Germanic neopagans (as Litha), Asatru/Heathens, Druids (as Alban Hefin)

One of the main four holidays in the Wheel of the Year and popularised by Wiccans and neopagans as Litha which is taken from the Anglo-Saxon words for June/July, this is the longest day of the year and the middle point and sometimes considered the beginning of summer.

JULY

REMEMBRANCE FOR UNNR/AUD THE DEEP MINDED

9th July

Origins: C9th Iceland

Observed by: Ásatrú, Heathens, Norse reconstructionist

Aud was a traveller in the 9th century moving between Dublin, the Hebrides, Orkney, and finally Iceland following the deaths of her husband and son. This day is to honour her memory.

HERACLEIA

July/August

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Festival dedicated to Heracles the demigod and his death, involving feasting and celebration.

AUGUST

LUGHNASADH/LAMMAS

1st August

Origins: Celtic Britain (Ireland, Scotland, Isle of Man)

Observed by: Wiccans, Neopagans, Christians (as Lammas), Ásatrú (as Freyfaxi)

Named for the god Lugh, this festival is one of the Celtic harvest festivals and marks the beginning of the harvesting months. It was celebrated by climbing mountains, bull sacrifice, offerings, and feasting. Handfasting is commonplace with Wiccans in modern times.

REMEMBRANCE FOR REDBAD, KING OF THE FRISIANS

9th August

Origins: C7th Frisia (area of Germany/Netherlands)

SEPTEMBER

NOUMENIA

8th September

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Celebration of new Hellenic lunar month. Offerings of honey and incense made to household deities.

REMEMBRANCE FOR HERMANN THE CHERUSCAN

9th September

Origins: C9th CE

Observed by: Heathens, Ásatrú

Hermann the Cheruscan, also known as Arminius of the Cherusci tribe, led the defeat against the Romans at the Battle of Teutoburg Forest and is lauded for saving Eastern Germanic peoples from being conquered by the Roman Empire.

AUTUMN EQUINOX (NORTHERN HEMISPHERE)

22nd September

Origins: 1970s neopaganism

Observed by: Wiccans and Neopagans (as Mabon), Ásatrú (as Winter Finding)

Named Mabon by prominent Wicca and Neopagan Aidan Kelly, after the Welsh mythological figure Mabon ap Moldron, the autumn equinox is one of the harvest festivals and marks the beginning of autumn in the northern hemisphere. Mabon is a relatively new pagan holiday not based on any specific historical festival, but traditionally people around the world would celebrate some kind of harvest festival around the end of September/beginning of October.

OCTOBER

PYANOPSIA

7th October

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Pyanopsia, or Pyanepsia, is a festival to honour Apollo, one of the most important deities, God of music, the sun, knowledge, healing, and archery - amongst other things. During the festival, two special offerings would be placed on doorways and carried to the temple. These offerings were a bean stew, and an olive branch wrapped in wool with honeys, pastries and seasonal fruits hanging from it.

REMEMBRANCE FOR LEIF EIRIKSSON

9th October

Origins: C10th CE

Observed by: Heathens, Ásatrú, Norse pagans

Remembrance for Leif and his sister Freydís Eiríksdóttir, children of Erik the Red, who are cited with being the first Norse explorers in North America.

THESMOPHORIA

12th-14th October

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Festival held in honour of Demeter Thesmophoros, goddess of agriculture, and her daughter Persephone, goddess of death and life, Queen of the Underworld. Celebrated primarily by women, this festival is linked with fertility, and we know very little about it due to its secretive rites. It is thought that it involved the sacrifice of pigs (although some sources say women), and abstinence.

REMEMBRANCE FOR ERIK THE RED

28th October

Origins: C9th CE

Observed by: Heathens, Ásatrú, Norse pagans

Erik the Red, probably named for the colour of his hair and beard, was the first permanent European settler in Greenland. His children were explorers too, who went to America, and although his wife converted to Christianity, Erik remained faithful to his Norse pagan gods.

SAMHAIN (HALLOWE'EN)

31st October-1st November

Origins: Gaelic - Scotland, Ireland, Isle of Man

Observed by: Celtic pagans, Neopagans, Wiccans

Pronounced SOW-in (sow rhyming with cow), Samhain was originally a harvest festival marking the beginning of winter. The day itself is the 1st November, but celebrations begin on October 31st, and this has become the accepted associated day. It's a festival of the dead, where the síthe, fae and spirits, can enter this realm from their own. Wiccans talk of a 'veil' thinning, meaning the boundary between worlds. Similar death related festivals around this time can be noted in other faiths from across the globe, and of course in the modern Hallowe'en.

WINTER NIGHTS (VETRNAETR), ÁLFABLÓT/DÍSABLÓT

31st October

Origins:

Celebrated by: Heathens, Ásatrú, Norse pagans

Winter Nights is mentioned in the Ynglinga Saga as one of the three greatest blessings of the year, the other two being Sigrblót in April, and þorrablót in late Jan/early Feb. Winter Nights is the celebration of the beginning of the winter season; Álfablót is a sacrifice to the elves, and Dísablót a sacrifice to the female spirits (dísir) and Valkyries.

NOVEMBER

REMEMBRANCE FOR SIGRID THE HAUGHTY

9th November

Origins: C9th CE

Observed by: Heathens, Ásatrú, Norse pagans

It is not actually known whether Sigrid Storråda, or Sigrid the Haughty, was an actual historical figure, an amalgamation of a few, or simply a myth. The lore goes that she was proposed to multiple times and turned down many but went on to orchestrate conflict when a potential suitor - Olaf Tryggvason, King of Norway - attempted to convert her to Christianity.

DECEMBER

REMEMBRANCE FOR EGILL SKALLAGRÍMSSON

9th December

Origins: C10th CE

Observed by: Heathens, Ásatrú, Norse pagans

Day celebrating the poet, farmer, and berserker Egill Skallagrímsson, who is recalled in The Icelandic Sagas by Snorri Sturluson. Egill is known for his many killings and escaping death by writing an epic poem after being captured when washing up on our Northumberland coastline.

SATURNALIA

17th - 23rd December

Origins: Ancient Rome

Observed by: Roman polytheists, some Hellenic

Like Yule and Lesser Dionysia, Saturnalia was the Roman winter festival celebrating the coming return of the sun and honouring the god Saturn. The standard feasting and drinking feature, and slaves would be treated as equals like Dionysia. Saturnalia is another festival cited as being picked up by Christians and used as inspiration for Christmas.

WINTER SOLSTICE (YULE/MIDWINTER)

21st December

Origins: Germanic nations, as early as C4th CE

Observed by: Norse pagans, Wiccans, Neopagans, LaVeyan Satanists, Ásatrú, Heathens, many Germanic nonpagan peoples

Yule is the midwinter festival known commonly among pagans as a time for feasting, being with loved ones, remembering ancestors, and looking forward to the return of the light and warmer days. Many pagans will celebrate Yule for more than one day, some celebrating a week either side, some for longer, up to two months, and some for twelve days afterwards. True Yule would have originally been in January for midwinter, but King Haakon the Good

moved it to coincide with the Christian celebrations in the 10th century, as told in the Ynglinga Saga.

On the 24th of December, Anglo Saxons are said to have celebrated 'Mothers Night' honouring female ancestors.

RURAL/LESSER DIONYSIA

End of December/beginning of January

Origins: Ancient Greece

Observed by: Hellenic polytheists

Smaller festival honouring the god Dionysus (Greater Dionysia took place in cities at the end of winter). Feasting, mask wearing to stop distinction between classes so that everyone could feel equal, sacrifices, parades, and phallic display were all used to celebrate.

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jgracie · 1 month

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LEO AND Y/N’S GARAGE: AUTO REPAIR AND MECHANICAL MONSTERS

masterlist | rules

in which life after camp half-blood is everything you and leo could’ve wished for

pairing husband!leo valdez x wife!athena!reader

warnings none :)

on the radio . . . this is the life (amy macdonald), keep driving (harry styles)

an i read the bit w leo and calypsos repair shop in house of hades and knew what i had to do 👩🏼‍💻

Eventually, the scent of your lineage - half mortal, half Goddess - began to wear off. What once was the bane of your existence, singling you out as ‘different’ and putting you in danger from the moment you popped out of your mother’s brain, was now a faint odour, a mere memory of the life you once led and the people you knew.

Leo didn’t wear off, though. He could never. Your relationship had been unexpected by everyone who knew the two of you. Pristine, perfect Y/N, daughter of Athena, the girl who not only stayed within the lines but drew them herself, and Leo Valdez, a messy, wild son of Hephaestus. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew you wouldn’t stand him. He was persistent and annoying, never giving you a moment’s peace and tearing down the walls you so carefully built around yourself.

In the end, he grew on you, and you realised you had a lot more in common than you thought. For example, your love of machinery. For as long as you could remember, you gravitated towards wires and nuts and bolts, only stopping when you got to camp as your life became filled with training and learning about the side of the family you didn’t even know you had. You used to longingly stare at the Hephaestus kids, itching to pick up a wrench and join them as they made all sorts of weaponry. Now, you own your very own garage: Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters.

It started off as a silly joke between you and Leo. You were newly graduated and after spending so much time taking care of the Godly side of your family, you forgot what life as a mortal was like. Sure, you always wanted to be a mechanic, but what now? You didn’t want to work for someone else. You spent your whole life working for other people and watching as everyone you loved had shrouds burnt for them (if they were lucky), so you thought it was only fair if you did something for yourself.

“We could always open our own garage,” Leo had said when you voiced your thoughts that day, “‘Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters’ has a nice ring to it, right?”

You laughed, saying something along the lines of “get real, Valdez,” before deciding to help him as he cooked dinner. Little did you know, Leo was being real. The next morning, he started looking for places he could rent for your garage. A few months after that, he began furnishing it and months after that, he started advertising. Once he was sure that everything was perfect, he decided to show you his little project, a velvet box with a certain piece of very valuable metal weighing down his coat pocket.

Today marks the six year anniversary of the opening of your garage (as well as the six year anniversary of your engagement), and to say business was booming would be an understatement. It started off as a place for mortals only, they’d drop off their cars and the nicer ones would stay for a little to make small talk, marvelling at your stories of how you sailed from the US to Europe together on a ship Leo built himself (you censored a lot of your experiences, of course), but after you expanded the garage, making it almost twice as big as it was before, you thought, ‘Why not let this be a place for demigods, too?’

Hidden from the eyes of mortals, the second half of your garage comes to life. There, you sell weaponry, armour and anything a demigod could possibly need, as well as providing a safe haven for those who needed recuperation after a long and tiring quest. You loved meeting them all, giving them advice and comfort as proof that things do get better and not all demigods die at the age of 16.

“Leo, have you seen Espe?” You yelled, wiping the grime from your hands as you realised your daughter had gone missing. Your son was too young to be at the garage and usually you’d stay with him, but your hands were itching for a hammer and your dear sister and brother-in-law offered to babysit, so why not let them? Your daughter was another case. She seemed to have inherited her parents’ inability to sit still and love for making things, insisting on spending all her time at work with the two of you as soon as she could walk.

On cue, Leo waltzed into the mortal side of the garage, your first born daughter, named Esperanza after his mother, in one arm and a toolbox in the other. “She decided to amuse herself with daddy’s magic toolbelt,” he said, sitting down on a nearby stool and placing her on his lap, “summoned about 50,000 gummy bears. I’m surprised she managed to override the cooldown on it, I’ve been trying to figure that out for years”

“Gummy bear?” She asked, looking up at Leo then at you, a grin - one she clearly got from her father - gracing her lips as she suddenly seemed interested in your conversation, making the two of you break into fits of laughter, which in turn made her laugh. Did she know what she was laughing about? No, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you were being watched. Sydney and Aaron, the two demigods you were hosting as the former’s leg healed, were going to tell you that they were good to leave tomorrow when they stopped, noticing you were having a moment.

“It’s hard to remember they’re demigods too,” Aaron began, “they seem so… normal. No chaos, no monsters, nothing,” he stared longingly at you, then down at the girl next to him. Could they have that too?

As if she read his mind, Sydney took his hand in hers and smiled, “we’ll make it, trust me. They went through a lot before this, remember? They were part of the last great prophecy. If they can do it, so can we.”

If you had told your past self that you’d marry the one boy who managed to get under your skin, start a family with him and open not just a garage, but a place where demigods could feel a sliver of normalcy, you would’ve laughed in your own face.

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez #leo valdez x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #leo valdez drabble #cynwrites

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justcressida · 8 months

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ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- DEAR VİLLAİNESS

"I coped with living in that damn house for so long, then got accepted to a prestigious college, and I had gotten my own home. Even if it was cramped and dirty, I could be completely at rest in it. I had finally escaped those bastards. So why?! It's not even Normal Mode. At this rate, this is no better than before…!"

Record Of Ragnarok X Penelope Eckhart!Reader

POSEİDON

Even among all these gods, Poseidon's hatred and arrogance for humans was evident.

Yet the only reason for his interest in this human woman was her incredible will to live.

Never before had he seen a mortal act so frankly, so boldly towards a God.

It caught his attention. The woman was beautiful, more beautiful than a Goddess could ever be. She was daring. It was easy to get lost in his catlike squinting eyes and be caught in the cold but firm aura of the mortal.

"Your daring and indiscretion have limits, mortal. What do you think you are? What do you trust to utter such bold words to a god?"

The woman squinted her eyes, shining with anger. "Why should there be a limit to my audacity? What have you got to set boundaries with me? First you create a lineage and then you send them disasters and hardships. Then when you get bored, 'Let's destroy humanity!' Are you making a joke that isn't funny to yourself? Why should I obey? Why should I be good? Whose wrong is right based on? How can one expect creation to be pure when there is evil in the heart of God?"

A deep silence reigned throughout the arena, while all the immortals who had been mocking her until a few seconds ago, in silence and tension, turned their eyes to the Tyrant of the Seas and then to this noble woman.

He couldn't help but was impressed. Although what he really needed to do was slit her throat with his trident and punish her disrespect, a wild instinct whispered that he shouldn't punish her in this way. Punish in a different way.

The Tyrant of the Seas' lips curved slightly as the tense wait continued. "Will you stand by what you say, mortal? If you kneel right now and apologize and beg, I won't punish you." Although his tone was calm, his gaze made everyone shudder.

"Y/N! Apologize!" As Reynold screamed, Derrick grabbed his arms and pulled him back. As the beautiful woman's eyes turned towards that direction, her eyes narrowed like a cat.

"It's not worth it, Reynold." Derrick's cold words echoed throughout the arena. The woman smiled sarcastically, after all she got used to it. It didn't hurt anymore.

"I'd rather die." Their eyes met. It was like the gaze of the sky and the ocean.

"You asked for it, mortal."

Thus began your life in prison. It was more of a fait accompli than a mistreatment.

Every day you were dressed like a doll and did whatever Poseidon wanted.

You could have dinner with him if he wanted.

If he wanted, you would go to the meeting of the Gods with him.

Everything was his order, if he didn't want it, you couldn't even breathe.

You'd still rather get beaten.

Yet all you gave in regards to your feelings was your hatred of the open ocean.

"Don't make me angry and come here mortal."

"I don't want."

"I didn't ask if you wanted it. Come with me, if you're afraid I'll keep it."

"No way. I won't." Poseidon looked at the beautiful mortal as the woman shrugged stubbornly.

"It's pointless mortal that you hate the ocean so much." He didn't want to ask directly why.

She looked thoughtfully into the water as she shrugged.

"Tell me the reason for this hatred of the ocean, mortal."

"Water plays with you, water imprisons you, water makes you crazy, and the insane cannot live in society. The water overflows."

Poseidon wanted to deny it, but mortal was right. That's how he summed up his thousands of years of life.

"Let's go inside, mortal. Don't be cold."

The Tyrant of the Seas sighs as he walks ashore.

Perhaps he could leave the mortal a little to himself.

Of course he wasn't forgiven.

For now, at least, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.

"You are so ugly."

"You're being disrespectful again, mortal.

"But are you ugly?"

"Shut up and get in, damn mortal."

#ror x reader #snv x reader #poseidon x reader #ror poseidon #snv poseidon #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader

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