18, She/Her, Architect in the making and fic writer in my free time :) REQUESTS ARE OPEN Masterlist
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hello could you do headcanons smut of baldwin and his chubby wife
A/N: Wow these is the first explicit stuff I write for Baldwin!! Thank you so much for this prompt, thinking of a chubby medieval woman makes me think of all the portraits of beautiful women with the most harmonious curves I've ever seen😩😩
As always painting name is Romeo and Juliet by Frank Bernard Dicksee for my art enthusiasts :))
Warning: SMUT, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!
Unlike modern times, a fuller body has always been sign of beauty and fertility through western history
Although during medieval times anything related to attractiveness and sensuality was deemed as "bad", that still meant that a chubby woman would've been judged not for being against the beauty standard, but to be actually too tempting for the public!
So it comes without saying that young king Baldwin thought he might pass out the first time he saw you, knowing you were his betrothed
You'd awakened something in him, this burning desire to have you, to know how your soft curves would feel in his hands, how your silky skin would brush against his own
I see him having a long series of consecutive days where he woke up drenched in sweat, body slightly trembling as he'd come out of yet another wet dream about you, lying beneath him as he had his sweet way with you
He felt himself getting more and more impatient for the wedding night day to come, to finally be able to call you his
He'd also be quite insecure at first, and scared too. What if the sight of his body repulsed you? What if you wouldn't want to go near him to avoid the risk of getting the disease as well?
He wouldn't blame you for it, it'd be the wiser decision for the both of you
But still, he prays and hopes and dreams that you'd return the attraction he felt from you from the very start. He longs for the feeling of your touch against his numb body
He's a bundle of nerves during the whole ceremony, but he's good at hiding it (well the veil covering his head is); he seems to all calm down only once you're both sitting next to each other at the banquet, and you tentatively lay your soft hand over his laying on the table, shy touches blessing his skin
That night your marriage is consumed in no time, he's basically as gentle as humanly possible while he holds you in his arms, as he's slowly penetrating you
There was no really developed knowledge of foreplay or female anatomy in the middle ages, but it just felt natural for Baldwin to keep his focus on your every reactions while the two of you are making love
He doesn't know what he's doing, and neither do you considering that at that time you probably haven't even seen a naked man other than Baldwin himself, but that doesn't stop the two of you from exploring each other, taking your time to get to know what you like, what makes your eyes roll back and your back arch
I'm not sure if he'd be down for oral, I kind of see him as being a bit self conscious of the level of decay his mouth and face has reached, and I'm not too sure his cum would actually taste good with leprosy and all
Nevertheless, his fingers and cock are more than enough to bring you more pleasure than you could ever imagine
Don't expect any public stuff, Baldwin is still an extremely religious man whose values are not to be messed with: these things are meant for the privacy of your quarters alone, there's no need for him to bring this sacred thing you two have out where all eyes could possibly see
He'd probably be more on the vanilla side, being mostly against anything related to giving pain (he'd be indifferent to receiving it since his body is mainly numb, but he wouldn't enjoy it either)
Although he would probably enjoy being the more dominant one in the bedroom, the power dynamic would still remain on a pretty balanced level: you're still his beloved wife, his only equal in his eyes. That's why I could confidently say that Baldwin is the perfect example of soft dom
His favorite position would probably be missionary, just so that he could be able to see your pretty face while he pounds into you
Also because he could get to hold your plush thighs and see the delightful rolls that form on your belly
Your body screams femininity and fertility to him, an alluring combination that gets him going for as much time as you two have
His numbness also grants him a reduced sensibility, so he can afford to go more rounds at a time without having too many problems from it
But as the years pass, his mobility becomes more restricted by his declining health, and along with his agility and stamina in battle his sickness gets the best of him even in the bedroom
And through it all, his burning desire for you was what got him going, what made him spare just a little more energies to later spend with you
The two of you would have to adapt, though, probably changing positions and frequency at which you guys have sex
You might start trying to be the one on top, and he'd guide your every movement while also trying not to lose his mind over just how perfect you look riding him, your every curve bouncing as you move up and down over his cock
He dreams of giving you a baby in those moments, filling you up to the brim, seeing your body get even fuller with your conjoint love. It really saddens him to think that it might never happen
But hope is the last one to die, and he gets his hopes up every time that he comes into your welcoming body, emptying his seed into you, hoping that one day this union will give life to a creature as beautiful as its mother
How do you think Baldwin would react if reader got into a heated argument with someone to the point it was getting really bad?
A/N: eheheh I see you guys really yearn to see Baldwin losing his temper, huh?
I can't lie I've been thinking of a similar scenario too lately, I guess you can't help it when he's so perfect in every way, shape or form🙈
Painting is "Orestes pursued by the Furies" by Adolphe William Bouguereau btw :))
Warning: mention of disrespect towards reader but nothing is actually specified!
He's intervening right away
He's got the wits to shut anyone's mouth, and he isn't afraid to embarrass whoever it is that is disrespecting his perfect wife
Whether it's a snide remark, a direct insult or an order for them to shut their mouths if they don't want any consequences for their outrageous behavior
If it got really really bad, like you said, I can actually see him lose his temper
Maybe the person arguing with you took it too far by directly insulting or belittling you, and that would cross the line for him
He'd jump up from his seat, pushing his chair down to the floor in the act, while looking dead in the eye unfortunate fool who dared to disrespect her highness the queen of Jerusalem
"If you dare to speak to your queen in such a tone again, your tongue will be your next meal!"
Everyone is shocked. You are shocked, his knights are shocked, your own rival is shocked (and mostly terrified)
Baldwin is a bit surprised with his own rush of wrath, too, but he doesn't give any hint of his surprise
While his servants waste no time putting his chair back in place, he keeps standing menacingly, eyeing the culprit of such blasphemy against his wife
After a few apologies from the person, Baldwin would hiss through gritted teeth: "It is the queen you have to apologize to, you miserable"
And that tone somehow manages to be even more threatening than his previous yelling, maybe because everyone knew that in that moment he was in his right state of mind, and that he was able to make whatever decision he wanted to punish the man before him, without ever regretting it
He wouldn't calm down until you give him a sign that everything's alright, then he'd drop the subject but it would still cling to him for the rest of the day
He loves you more than words can express, and he will never, ever be able to just stand silently there and observe someone disrespect you like that
ALSO do you think he would have a favourite anime? my friend said he would like attack on titan but im not sure. i might be biased but i think he'd appreciate evangelion for its artistic value. once again sorry i keep bothering u with the weirdly specific king baldwin questions, i think about him so much :]]
Mmmh I can see why they'd say attack on titan and I actually have to agree with them, he'd probably enjoy it for both the plot and the fight scenes; even gore wouldn't faze him in the slightest, he's seen that stuff in real life both in battlefield and public executions, it's normal to him. Plus it would be funny seeing him spending days trying to analyze Eren's actions and decisions after season 4, like full on studying him like he's gonna be his next opponent or something.
And I also see your point, and I think he'd enjoy watching evangelion to try and understand better what modern people perceive as "art", especially from a country that he didn't even know existed!!
But I must say, I honestly think that his favorite anime would be something from Studio Ghibli. Those movies just have the perfect combination of adventure, poetry and art all in one.
He'd be moved by the tragic depiction of war in movies like Grave of the Firelights, or the touching friendships we both see in Ponyo and Totoro.
I can see Howl's Moving Castle as his favorite though, it would just be able to move him to a spiritual level.
He'd probably love Howl, he might even see some resemblance between him and the character. But (if you happened to be his S/O) he also might see his love story with you as a reversed version of Howl's and Sophie's; he sees himself as ugly and unlovable, while you see the beauty that resides within him.
Plus again, the way it shows how was is just a meaningless form of violence and takes to nothing other than destruction, that would truly resonate with him in my opinion!
this is such a weird question to ask sorry but im asking bc i feel like uve always got the best king baldwin headcanons. anyway, what flavour of chips do you think he would like??? people always joke about giving medieval people doritos or salt and vinegar chips but tbh i think most of them would be able to handle it (king baldwin included). also do you think he would have a favourite soft drink
First of all, thank you so much anon😭💗
This is actually really hard for me because I don't really eat chips that much, I usually go for the more plain ones.
But yeah you're absolutely right, speaking for the nobles of course tho.
I think that when people talk about medieval going into a coma for potato chips I think they think that all of them only ate potatoes or chestnuts all their lives, which is true as long as you speak about poor farmers and such.
Nobles on the other hand were used to a lot of spices, and by that I mean they literally rebuilt trade routes just to get their hands on more ginger and pepper!
So this is the reason why I'd say that lime and pepper would be Baldwin's favorite variety of chips, with salt and vinegar coming second.
But yeah considering that he also grew up in Jerusalem it wouldn't surprise me if he'd be able to handle doritos or any other spicy chips with no great struggles.
But I think he would hate more chemical tasting flavors like cheesy chips or any brightly colored ones with crazy flavors. That would cross the line for him.
For the soft drinks I'm not sure, I don't know if he'd really enjoy the feeling of any fizzy drink. I see him enjoying fruit juices like pear, apple and pomegranate. He'd probably be fascinated by all those fruits he didn't get to taste during his life, too, like oranges and pineapple.
Maybe hot chocolate too, does that count as soft drink? Because I feel like he'd go ballistic to have a sip of that stuff!
About more mainstream drinks like cola or fanta and all that jazz, I really can't see him enjoying any sort of artificial taste, it wouldn't be enjoyable at all.
Just for informational purposes, most of Baldwin's family isn't from Provence. Only Raymond III of Tripoli can claim Occitan connections through Toulouse. The rest of his closest kin not born in the Holy Land are primarily from County Anjou, County Maine, Rethel, and Courtenay, all of which are in the northern part of France, the first two being close to Brittany. He also has direct ties to Flanders and Normandy.
Yeah sorry I kind of oversimplified a bit to not sound too much of a history nerd, but no the Angevins reigned mainly over the Provence region, plus all the other territories they owned.
Plus his education was entrusted to William of Tyre who came back to France to study, and the culture in the court of Jerusalem still reflected the one from the regions crusaders and nobles came from, so I just decided to simplify it all a bit since historical accuracy wasn't really the point while I was discussing his hypothetical taste in modern music lmao
How would Baldwin act if reader was on her period cause I know in the medieval period they handled menstrual cycles differently?
A/N: Aww that is so sweet! Yes you're right, it was handled quite differently and if you look it up you'd be impressed of how badass women are to have been handling so much stuff for so long with no recognition until recent times!!
Little info as always, painting is "The Deceitfulness of Riches" by Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale.
Warning: mentions of blood and period-related pain, plus some historical negligence on women's health and that's it
Okay so, in the Middle Ages period was something every woman knew of, but no one ever really said anything about
Up until very late in the time period, women were considered dirty, impure creatures, guilty of committing the original sin and to relentlessly tempt men with their mere existence
Period had become during these centuries a symbol of women's impurity and less than human nature, so they were taught from a very early age to hide it as best as they could
But do I have to tell you that Baldwin could not believe less to it?
Similar things had been said to him and his leprosy, how it was a curse that had been sent upon him by God himself for his own vanity and greed, that he was an impure man just because of something he couldn't actually control
He wouldn't see the negative conceptions of period, he'd only see your pain and discomfort, and that would be enough to tear his soul in half
He'd come up to you, gently wrapping an arm around your lower waist, unknowingly bringing you a little comfort from his mere body heat, and he'd gently whisper in your ear
"My angel, I know you're fatigued right now. Go back to our chambers and tell me what you need, I'll provide for it all in a second"
You'd try to reject the offer and change subject out of modesty and embarrassment. There's no need for his help, really, you're used to this like any other woman, the last thing he needs to worry about is your own discomfort
He, of course, wouldn't listen and just escort you to your silky bed where he'd almost force you to lay onto
He would ask you if you're too cold, too hot, if you're hungry, what you'd like to eat then, if you're thirsty, if you need company and loving touches or if you'd rather be left alone
Anything you ask for, you'll get in no time
It would probably end up with him lying next to you, gently putting a warm hand on your pelvis while he held a book on the other one, reading out loud so that you could relax and distract from your pain and discomfort
And once you fall asleep and his servants would loudly announce that dinner is ready and waiting, he'd quickly put a finger to his lips, urging them to be quiet as the love of his life is resting
This would go on for as long as you need, whether it's as long as your period lasts or just the first days. Whatever, really
Because, yes, period was considered a punishment for the sins and impurity of all women, but with Baldwin that definition could never resonate, for you're the purest, most perfect creature living in his life, and he sees this monthly occurrence as a divine test to your soul and spirit, a test he'd gladly help you through anytime
What do you think Baldwins fashion sense would be In modern times ?
Ohhh this is an interesting one!
Okay so, it took me a bit to think about it but I'm pretty confident on some points.
First of all, modesty. Not to cover up his body from leprosy, we have the medicine to cure that now so no prob, but his religious nature would probably physically restrain him from even getting close to "immodest" clothing, and by that I mean going around shirtless or lowering his pants to the point where you can see his mf underwear.
I see him as someone who likes to dress simple, not too many meaningless details and accessories, he'd probably fit best in the Dark Academia/old money style.
I'm debating on whether he'd wear a little silver cross necklace, part of me thinks that he actually wouldn't, he might rather keep his religiousness for himself rather than flaunting it around. Hence why he isn't really a fan of those pants with huge crosses, too over the top for him, it loses meaning.
I'm also leaving a few pics of what I think would best represent his style.
Baldwin in his summer era. Although I think he'd also wear shorts if it got too hot, but I haven't found a fit that quite represented my idea
This pic has me weak on my knees because I imagine Baldwin EXACTLY like this. Like, the hair, the strong handsome features,...
AAAAGHHH I'm on my knees for this man.
A look more winter-y. If I had to use a word to describe his style I'd probably simply say "class", because that's exactly what he's all about!
Following the Christian emo anon, there's also Christian metal. I don't know many bands personally but Wytch Hazel comes to mind. They're more heavy metal than any other metal subgenre so they sound closer to hard rock
You guys have no idea how much I'm loving you, making me discover all these amazing musicians😭😭
You know what, I actually see him enjoying Wytch Hazel to an extent.
They've got good lyrics, good musicality and not too many artificial sounds (comparing to trap or techno I mean).
I mean, the fact that music isn't anywhere near to how it sounded 800 years ago is something that a clever mind like Baldwin's wouldn't take too long to understand, and he's open to evolve and open his horizons with it too. But that doesn't mean that he still doesn't enjoy listening to music he can actually relate to.
I don't know how many other bands from this genre are out there but this specific one would be Baldwin-approved!
Also this modern music talk made me think about my answers a bit, and I decided that I must add that more "spicy" or "explicit" songs wouldn't shock him TOO MUCH, since Medieval songs, especially French ones from Provence (where Baldwin's family is from) had a specific romantic genre that was basically nobles talking about their crazy hookups or fantasies about the women they love.
That being said, I was considering softer explicit songs, my boy would probably still get a heart attack if he ever listened to WAP or any song from Ice Spice or Cupcakke.
Lastly, he'd absolutely hate Lil Nas X for his mocking of christianity and all, he wouldn't handle the disrespect I think.
How would Baldwin react if reader got sick?
A/N: I'm loving all this king Baldwin enthusiasm, I've been waiting for this moment for ages omfg!!! (little 10 year old me is screaming now that I have the chance to write for my historical crush).
Btw I don't know if I should be making all the fancy set up for all headcanons of him (like, author's note, warning and painting), the last posts didn't have it because it didn't seem fit to me but you let me know
Psssst painting is "Paolo and Francesca" by Frank Dicksee
Warning: none, sickness maybe?
Oh boy
You wouldn't be able to leave your bed.
Sickness was a big deal back then, you could easily die form a cold, so ain't no way that he's taking any more risks.
To be honest the climate was less brutal in Jerusalem than Europe, which was even colder than modern times (and living in Switzerland I can assure you that it gets REALLY cold).
He would insist on keeping you in his quarters, always near his sight, and when he had to leave to attend to his royal duties you'd be surrounded by his best physicians to take care of you.
But he would like it best when he's the one tending to you, it's one of the most intimate moments he gets with his beloved
He'd use a wet cloth to clean your face of the sweat, gently caress your body while he orders to get some ice from his servants to cool your body down
Incense would fill the room to ease your mind and make the ambience more comfortable for you to rest
He'd love to bathe you, hold your weakened body as he frees you of that sickly sticky feeling that has been clinging to your body for the past days
It would take you some convincing to let him sleep with you in the same bed to be honest, as he would've been too scared to be that close to you while you're so weakened already
Because, what if in this state your body is so weak and ill already that it makes it easier for you to contract leprosy as well? He wouldn't survive the guilt of knowing that he'd be the cause of your demise
He would've only relented after seeing your pleading eyes, begging to have him close to you at night, to not be left alone, to not have to suffer his absence too
But all his worries would be washed away once he got to feel your body close to his once again, see your droopy eyes looking at him and your weak smile of gratitude for his closeness
Then, once you would've fallen asleep, he would hold you a close as possible, kissing your boiling hot forehead while he prayed God to let you live, to let you stay with him just a little longer
And he was sure his prayers had been listened once he wakes up to the sight of you, smiling at him with renewed strength, your body once again fresh to the touch
You were healed, and he couldn't have been more happy even if he'd woken up healed by leprosy himself
i know you said rock would be on thin ice for king baldwin but consider: do you think he'd like christian emo (flyleaf, relient k)? maybe im biased bc im a huge flyleaf fan but idk i think he'd appreciate it
Omg you made me discover a world! You're right he'd probably enjoy listening to it.
As I mentioned on the original post, it's the content of the lyrics that mostly interests him, and also the factor that decides whether he likes a song or not.
Peaceful, loving themes always win for him, and he'd probably be open to the new kind of melody also because it's not as artificial as other subgenres of rock/metal/goth/...
So yeah anon you two could listen to flyleaf together and it'd be enjoyable for you both!! (can I join too you literally made me fall in love with their music)
How do you think Baldwin would act if he saw the immodest clothing that we consider normal today? Like if he meet reader from the future our times and saw what she was wearing?? I feel like it would be super interesting to see
Mmmmh that's a great question.
I think that on first impact he'd be quite baffled, like that would be considered underwear in Medieval times so you can see why he'd react like that.
Being the gentleman and virtuous man he is, he would opt to avoid the sight himself to not "fall into temptation", but I also see him as gently suggesting you wear something more... modest.
Now, depending on the scenario it could go two ways: either you from the future traveled back to 12th century Jerusalem or he traveled in the future to wherever you live.
In the first case, it'd be quite hard to convince him that what you're wearing is deemed as normal in your times. Well, it would probably be hard to convince him that you're from the future in the first place.
The second scenario would be... quite more shocking for Baldwin, but it would lead to some clarifiacations much much sooner. I mean, you could take him outside for a walk and he'd soon realize that EVERYONE dresses like this now (or at least most people).
And that walk around your town would be so funny to see because Baldwin would be refusing to look anywhere but the ground for a good half hour before you convince him that it's not sinful to just see what other people are wearing!
But I must say, in both scenarios he'd come to terms with the fact that time changes things, and clothes are probably the quickest thing to change since the beginning of time. He wouldn't judge you for what you wear, he'd only get an idea for you based on your personality and your mind. After all, his own condition has taken almost all prejudice he could have based on appearances.
What kind of music would Baldwin listen to in modern times?
To be honest I think he'd try listening to everything at least once, just to be able to test everything.
Do I even need to say that he would absolutely HATE rap, techno and metal? Especially for the content of the lyrics.
Rock is on thin ice, he might tolerate it.
I see him as becoming obsessed with older singers and artists like Frank Sinatra or Edith Piaf, mostly because they're very close to what medieval songs were about most of the time (love songs about eternal promises and broken hearts lmao).
BUT, Classical and Gregorian music are probably his favorites, I see him as an enjoyer of most requiems honestly.
Country music is... kind of an enigma to him? Like, he doesn't really like it but doesn't hate it either. Probably wouldn't mind listening to a few songs but definitely wouldn’t suggest it either.
Lastly, seeing how tolerant he was to other religions and cultures, I believe that he would be really interested in listening to any folk songs. He's probably be curious to hear how Israeli's music has evolved after so many centuries, along with the other countries he's been in contact with.
Overall a pretty open minded listener, plus he'll put aside any of his personal preferences to listen to what his darling likes most, just to have something to share with them.
King Baldwin IV:
Life always comes down to a game of chess
I’ll be waiting for you
Sweetest of melodies
My archangel - coming soon!
Bandit - coming soon!
Voice of Heaven - coming soon!
Like Lancelot - coming soon!
Headcanons:
Arguing with you
Sickness
Period
Defending your honor
Nsfw
Cats or dogs?
Modern headcanons: modern music, pt 2, pt 3, reaction to immodest clothing, modern style, chips and drinks, anime
Luke Castellan:
Last date
Ghost of you - coming soon!
Leo Valdez:
Headcanons - child of Aphrodite!S/O
Lester Papadopoulos/Apollo:
It's Over, isn't It? - part one
Eternal Bonds - part two
Asra Alnazar:
Headcanons - Intimacy before and after
Young and Beautiful - coming soon!
You're my plague - coming soon!
Julian Devorak:
Kiss the girl - coming soon!
Aang:
That voice in his head
Can you make more head canons for Baldwin? Like what would he do if you two got into an argument etc etc.
A/N: Sure thing sweetie!! I must apologize though, I only did the argument part because I didn't really have much time left and I didn't know what else to add. Hope you'll still like it though!
As always, painting is King Lear, Act I, Scene I by Edwin Austin Abbey :))
Warning: none, literally. Should f!reader a warning? If yes then there's that
Firs of all, Baldwin does not argue with you. He's a pacifist at heart, he always prefers talking things through and negotiate to get out of hard situations. To him, that is a form of respect, the desire to talk as equals and not trying to impose his own will on the other
And since he does that with his enemies, how could he not give you the same treatment? You, who lighten his days darkened by his duties and his sickness, you who save him from the burden of his own thoughts
And even if you tended to be more on the aggressive/prone to arguments side, he still wouldn't budge, and just keep on talking but most of all LISTENING, Baldwin respects you more than anyone else, your thoughts are sacred to him and should be treated as such!
If the argument is about something that he did to upset you, be it an unpleasant comment or a forgotten appointment (only happened once and it was because he had been kept busy by his counselors), he will do anything to make you feel any better
If the argument is about his tendencies to neglect his own health, then good luck with that because his own moral code physically prevents him from letting go of his duties to favor resting and trying to better his condition. Still, he will reassure you with gentle touches and soft words that he understands your worries, and you are the sweetest angel to care so much about him
But he cannot let his kingdom to fend for itself just because of a bad day for his leper body, he will have to wait until the evening to be reunited with you and finally let himself rest, your own anger at his stubborness long gone as you cradle his head on your lap. You still appreciate his soft apologies as you caress his mangled face, though
Now, speaking about what he'll do to make it up to you for any argument- or mostly, things that he did that upset you since he doesn't really argue with you
First of all, he will excuse himself for having upset you in the first place, listening to your every word to understand precisely what exactly it is that he did that he will avoid making again
Then, he will try to get any form of physical contact with you. He needs it, desperately, having been so isolated from any human touch for years other than his physicians'
Hell, he might even kneel for you if it meant having your forgiveness, if it meant being able to hug your legs like the supplicants of the ancient books he read about
If you'll let him get close to you, he'll kiss you all over while he'll keep apologizing and openly reflect on the things that he will change to make it up properly. Kinda reminds me of Gomez and Morticia on that scene (hence the painting I chose)
And after you will have forgiven him, that night he'll hold you a little closer, whispering sweet apologies while you sleep soundly, unaware of how dedicated your husband is to learn from his mistakes
All in all, I really don't see Baldwin as someone you'd ever argue with, but that doesn't stop him from making up for his every mistake like he'd caused you the worst of wrongs
You're his Heaven, and he'll treat you as such
I love your story of Apollo / Lestrage x reader, it was very cute, I hope Apollo manages to make his partner immortal (like Hercules / Heracles)
Thank you so much for the support, I must say I really didn't like it that much at first but I saw that it was really well perceived by you guys so thank you😭😭💕
Also, you'll get to find out reading the second part that I have posted just now, hope you'll like the ending ;)
Hi! Could you please do a part two to the lester/apollo x reader fic you posted?
A/N: thank you so much for your request, anon! Sorry if this took a bit more than the time I usually take to write my fics, but as I said the past weeks have been really tiring for me🥹
Anyway, I hope you like this fic, I personally like it better than the first part, but as always let me know your thoughts on it<3
Aaaand as always, painting is "Springtime" by Pierre Auguste Cot for anyone interested!
Summary: Having regained his immortality and prestige, all that remained for Apollo was to stabilise something in his life was one thing: you. It might sound easy, but he honestly would disagree.
Warning: it is implied that Athena has a great admiration for reader, but they’re not their child. This reconnects with my own personal thoughts on how Athena’s cabin should work, so the goddess’ relationship with reader in this fic should be seen as the same as hers and Odysseus’ (if you want further explanations on what their dynamic was let me know:))) Also I must say, I haven’t read any of the trials of Apollo books in ages so I took it as an occasion to interpret Apollo’s return to Olympus how I see it more fit to this little scenario of mine.
And lastly, not a warning but this fic starts just a bit before the end of the first part, if anyone was wondering:)
Word count: 3813 (longest fic yet omgg)
Apollo stood there, standing on the elevator that would take him home. How strange, he had dreamed of this moment for months, eager to return to his home and be welcomed as a glorious hero, with restored dignity, free of the mortal shell in which he had been confined all this time. He had imagined himself proud, tall and triumphant as he entered the gates of Olympus.
Yet as he stood on his way home, he could not prevent the continuous movement of his foot against the elevator floor. There was no trace in him of the security typical of a hero, in him at that time reigned only the same anxiety and nervousness that had characterized his mortal form. First it was Apollo inside Lester’s body, now Apollo had his body back, but Lester was inside of him. That Lester had become an integral part of him? Or maybe it didn’t add up, maybe it was always there, unable to make its voice heard under the omnipresent spirit of Apollo.
Okay, maybe he was rambling, but he couldn’t help it when he felt like his nerves were about to make him explode!
The point was, he wasn’t just going home, he was going to convince his father, the king of the gods, the exact same person who kicked him out of Olympus, to make the love of his life immortal so that he could stay by his side for eternity. It was not a situation in which one could easily remain connected to reality.
Finally, the elevator slowed down its run, until it stopped completely and opened its doors with a characteristic "ding".
Slowly, one step at a time, Apollo stepped out of the elevator and advanced to the throne room, walking up the path that would take him directly there. His performance had an air of regal composure, but it was nothing more than a method of masking his tense nerves. He walked until he reached the first areas inhabited by the Olympians and some other immortal creature.
"Apollo? I didn’t know you were already back. We thought it would take you millennia to make it up to Zeus!!" He hadn’t heard it in a while, but there was no way he could ever forget the sound of Nike’s voice. The winged goddess came to meet him flying curiously, also attracting the attention of the entities that had not paid attention to the scene so far.
Some approached, recognizing the face of the beloved god, while others ran to announce his return to the major gods. First came Hestia, who with that loving family attitude, embraced him gently. "Oh Apollo, you were so good! I never doubted you could do it."
"I can’t say that with as much confidence, but I must congratulate you, Apollo, you have exceeded all my expectations." It was the authoritarian voice of Athena who spoke, who wore a smile on her face, a more unique than rare event. Apollo was so surprised by this unusual compliment from her that he hardly paid any attention to her questioning his chances of success.
For a moment he felt his eyes almost come out of his skull when a large hand was planted on his shoulder to pat him. " Well done, little brother, aren’t you as soft as you look, eh?" Massaging his shoulder, Apollo smiled faintly at the mountain that was his half-brother. "Thanks, Ares, it means a lot I guess..."
He was about to receive the coup de grâce, if it were not for Aphrodite, unconscious of her intervention, she had put herself right in the middle, affectionately placing one hand on Apollo’s shoulder while the other not very secretly found place in that of Ares, to the delight of Hephaestus who observed snorting away from the scene, but thumbs up at the sun god to express his joy.
He didn’t know how long this lasted, or exactly how many gods surrounded him at that point, but when Nike was about to hold a banquet in his honor he couldn’t control his reaction: "No wait!" His tone sounded so panicked that he caught everyone unawares. For a moment the gods almost had the sensation of speaking a mortal, so much his voice had squeaked in the air. Realizing that he had drawn even more attention to you, as if it were even possible in that situation, he gently shrugged his shoulders, to mitigate the gaze of the Olympians his nerves more tense than ever.
"Um I-" he made a false cough to try to regain his posture before starting to speak again, illuminating his companions with a dazzling smile, "sorry, mortal’s pollen, am I right? Anyway, much as I would be... ecstatic to attend a banquet, I’m afraid I must first have a discussion with Zeus about some... matters of utmost urgency! If you’ll excuse me, now.”
With little pomp, he made his way through the crowd stunned at his unusual behavior. "Poor thing, the Earth has changed him." Someone shook their head resigned, someone else did not even notice his abrupt exit, simply saying goodbye and congratulating him as he got smaller and smaller in the distance. The attention to him lasted just before each god went for their merry way. After all, when you have a whole eternity to live, there are few things left for you for a long time.
Everyone resumed doing what they were doing before Apollo’s return, all except Athena. It was in her nature to predict the rival’s moves- or rather, the moves of anyone around her. She may not have been born with the ability to see the future, but her intellect allowed her to come to conclusions almost as apt as an oracle. Silent as night, he followed the solar god, whose aura seemed to be clouded by some heavy burden.
The closer he got to the heavy bronze doors of the throne room, the lighter his head felt, as if his brain had gone numb. He was mathematically certain that he had NEVER felt so nervous in his entire existence. Not even his many figures in human form could compare to how he was feeling at the time. But it’s not like he could back out now, not after all the way he’s come, not after promising you not to leave your side. Not now, that had arrived in front of the doors.
He didn’t even have to knock, or announce his own name. No use, Zeus was waiting for him. Apollo took a breath, pumping his chest to emulate some sense of confidence before making his way into the vast hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked around and looked at the empty thrones, each with small inlays reminiscent of its owner. He passed by his own throne, and a sense of longing pervaded him to the thought that in no time he would have sat there again. Maybe you could convince Zeus to put a similar throne for you next to his own..
No, stay focused, Apollo, first of all he had to convince Zeus to make them immortal in the first place.
Without even realizing it, he was so taken by his own thoughts, he had reached the end of the room, finding himself a few feet from the king of Olympus. Now he could not afford to show himself weak, fearful. Come on, it had to come easy for him, he was also the god of the theater after all! As if a thread pulled him from above, he felt himself erect tall and proud, his chest out, his muscular back straight; a slight halo of light surrounded him, reconferendogli a little of that shine that has always distinguished him from the rest of the gods. He smiled at his father before bowing down gracefully. "It’s good to see you again, Father."
“Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”
“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” Okay, even if he had second thoughts, it was DEFINITELY too late to back out. Yet despite the seriousness of the situation, Apollo no longer felt the same anxiety that had accompanied him throughout the climb to Olympus. He felt powerful, confident in his words, in his actions, but above all confident in you. He knew that if ever there was a mortal worthy of immortality, it was most certainly you. He looked up at his father, this time his smile had become less dazzling, almost a little nervous.
“Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”
“Depends. What is it that you desire?”
“How do you make a demigod immortal?”
Total silence fell in the room. The expression of Zeus was intelligible, and not being able to read the true emotions of Apollo, moreover in such a silent environment did not help to calm his nervousness. Zeus slowly blinked, covering his icy eyes for a moment before opening them again as he breathed in just as slowly. " Few mortals have earned the gift of immortality throughout history. He must deserve that honor with out-of-the-ordinary feats," he paused, as if to reflect, then resumed speaking, in a neutral but glacial and authoritative tone, "this is not impossible, but I count on one bare hand how many times a mortal has been added to the abode of the immortals over the millennia."
"I am aware of this, Father, and that is precisely why I believe that the person I speak of is the most deserving of this honor." Zeus did not answer. Not immediately, at least. He seemed confused and intrigued at the same time, as if he had not expected such a response. " My son, what do you mean by that?" Apollo could not avoid the smile that spread on his face having an opportunity to talk about your countless qualities, which in his eyes were endless. It was one of his favorite activities even when he was mortal, actually.
"You see father, they are a demigod of qualities worthy only of an immortal god. They are strong and wise, although they are still at a young age. They fear nothing but the limits imposed by Olympus, which they have served since the day they set foot inside Camp Half-Blood."He took a little dramatic pause, perhaps expecting to be interrupted by the divine father, but he gave no sign of wanting to intervene in words; he preferred to remain silent, peering at his son while he justified his reasons for satisfying his will.
"And they are beautiful, Father. They shine with a beauty far beyond that of an ordinary mortal. Even on the battlefield, soiled with blood and filth of all kinds, their beauty always resembled that of Aphrodite and Eros and all the gods of all the Pantheons of this world who possess the gift of supreme beauty." To this the father could not suppress a snort of derision, not trusting the words of the son in fact of beauty, "If I remember well such words were spoken by you also for Hyacinth, and before him Daphne, and before her still such a long series of river nymphs and mortal beings that I lost count."
Apollo lowered his head in resignation, sighing gently before looking up to speak again, "I realize this, Father, but I mention their beauty only because it would be a crime against all that is right to omit. However, it remains only one of the many qualities that characterize them, which none of my past lovers can say. But that is not the greatest reason why I consider them worthy of immortality."
"Speak openly then, you know I don’t like to wait." The blond-haired god nodded and took another step towards the king of the gods, his eyes even brighter than before, inflamed by his longing desire to obtain what he most desired in his entire existence. You, at his side. Forever.
"You see, they have done a great service to the goddess of wisdom and the manual arts. They have done the will of Athena and have done such glorious deeds that they have increased her honor. I myself was able to attend only some of their quests, but I assure you that they were so great as to justify the support and blessing of a goddess so hardly affable." To these words, Zeus seemed completely incredulous. In Olympus it was well known that Athena was the beloved daughter of the king of the gods, who always kept her close to him and always made all her will an uncompromising law. It seemed impossible to him that any mortal had been able to win the favor of the goddess, and he strongly doubted the veracity of Apollo’s claim.
The young god opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a voice echoing from behind him, "As much as the idea of supporting Apollo’s petty whims, this time I must agree with him." Athena had followed Apollo to the throne room, suspicious of his strange behavior. He had to be honest, Apollo literally had no idea what to say at that moment; he did not expect to get to that point with his interview and certainly did not expect Athena’s support in his intent. But this was a real blessing, for she herself could bear witness to your worth.
She only gave him a scowling look, like a silent admonition to avoid yelling at him, pick up your mouth from the ground and be a god, genius! But his silver eyes were enough to relay the message, and after a moment Apollo had returned to his usual divine bearing. She blinked slowly before turning her eyes again to Zeus.
"Y/N Y/L is a demigod of undeniable quality, which also left me pleasantly surprised. It is true, they have diligently served Olympus and have especially served me, and I have let them fight in my name precisely because their wit deserved such honor. If only it were possible, I would claim them as my own child, for only twice in my existence have I met two mortal men of equal virtue, and those mortals were the king of Ithaca and your son Hercules, to whom you rightly granted immortality.
You know that I do not speak in vain when I express my opinion, and that is why I consider them worthy to also obtain the gift of immortality, especially when to these incredibly successful quests are added the love of a god and the admiration of another."
Now Zeus observed the two with two comically wide eyes, mostly due to the unexpected intervention of Athena. Even Apollo could not hide his amazement from that sudden help, but he certainly did not complain at all. Three beats passed, then Zeus cleared his voice and I speak in a more serene tone than before, though still authoritarian, "Very well, if you yourself, Athena, consider this mortal worthy of so many honors I want to believe you. Your lover will be granted immortality, Apollo. This will happen at sundown, when you bring your chariot back here to Olympus. Lead them with you, and they can live forever here with you."
"Yes!!" Apollo threw a fist in the air for joy, a small habit he had taken in his stay on earth, but soon after he realized that perhaps it was not quite the right place to give free rein to his happiness, judging by the unimpressed face of Zeus, "Um, I apologize. I thank you father, for this wonderful gift. I assure you that you will not regret it!" He slowly stepped back as he spoke to him with the biggest smile on his face, extending his arms and bending his knees in a farewell bow. Zeus, for the first time in what seemed like centuries, smiled at Apollo and nodded slightly.
"Enjoy this concession of mine, my son, and may it remain in your mind as your reward for having demonstrated your qualities, even without the intervention of your divinity."
"I’ll never forget it. They’ll never let me!" With some other ceremonious thanksgiving, which they had little given the haste and irrepressible joy of the sun god, Apollo rushed down to Olympus, hastening as much as possible to reach his beloved in the place where they had met. He looked at a clock to see how much time he had left. 7 P.M., he still had some time left. He ran like a madman, until he saw the entrance of the familiar Campo approaching. He ignored everyone around him, his perplexed children, his disappointed fangirls, his friends not too surprised to see him running like a bullet through the field, with the biggest smile they’d ever seen on him. Only Meg had a vague feeling about what exactly happened, but even if she did, she didn’t say anything and just looked at him smiling before going back to her things.
Apollo entered the forest next to the Camp and continued to run. Lucky he was back in his cool form, if he was still Lester would have collapsed out of breath for half an hour. And then finally, he finally arrived at your rendezvous point. She found you there, gently lying on moss, slumbering from the weariness of the activities at the Camp and from the worries you had freed yourself of the previous day, in that exact same place, when you had finally found your beloved. Apollo was quivering, thinking how you would react to the awakening, among the golden blankets of his heavenly palace. What would you have said seeing your body invigorated and illuminated by immortality. What would you have felt seeing that his declarations of eternal love were not fallacious, but promises that he had dedicated himself body and soul to keep.
He gently picked you up, taking care not to wake you. He invoked his golden chariot and rode with you to your new home. He kept you close, as much as he was physically allowed by the confined space. The journey did not last long, being facilitated by the godly transport; once arrived right in front of the golden gates of the Apollonian abode, he took you back in his bridal style, leading you to his- your bed. You were stretched out just as he saw your skin begin to shimmer gently, its color gradually became richer and filled with eternally vital sap. He stood by your side, filling your neck and shoulders with kisses as he crouched behind you, eagerly awaiting your rebirth as a deity.
In the morning you woke up with a strong light that dazzled you. You thought it was Apollo, who since he had returned to his true form had regained all the lustre of his nature. But no, it wasn’t him; it was you, whose skin emanated a faint light that bounced against the various gold inlays that were in the bedroom. Yeah, you didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed, the last thing you remembered was lying in the forest moss while you waited for Apollo. Wait a minute, this isn’t even a room in Camp Half-Blood!
You did it to snap up to the alert, but then you stopped when you felt the familiar touch of Apollo caressing your shoulder, sliding towards the back of your neck and passing through your hair, which had been twice as long as the day before. Normally you would have yawned, but it didn’t seem physically possible to experience any fatigue in the state you were in. You felt... almighty. You finally turned your attention away from your body and turned it towards Apollo, who was already looking at you with a loveless look.
"Good morning, beautiful." You smiled though still confused by the situation you were in. Tempting your luck, you took a sigh and then you spoke, your melodic, honey-sweet voice even though you just woke up, "'Chicken, where are we?"
"We are in Olympus my dear. I promised you that I would not forget you, that I would love you forever. And I meant every single word I said, which is why I had a little conversation with Zeus earlier, and well... let’s just say with a little help I was able to convince him to give you immortality." He said it with the biggest and most satisfied smile I’d ever seen on him, and meanwhile he hugged you and held you and caressed you all over his body, as if to confirm himself that all this was true.
You were utterly speechless, incredulous at what this god had just done in the name of love for you, but at the same time you felt a warm feeling pervading you from within, filling you with joy and happiness, as if that of him had infected you like a disease. You held your hands to his face and laughed in disbelief and said, "You’re the biggest crazy idiot I’ve ever met, Lester!"
He laughed with you, feeling pervaded by this joy that moved him from within, almost pushing him to tears by the power of these feelings. Holding you tighter, she stroked your silky soft hair as she chuckled happily, "I guess you’ll have to get used to the gold and clouds here." " Still better than a bunk bed to share in five."
Laughing together, you held each other so long as you had time, before he had to take off and lead the sun across the sky. Before he got on the golden chariot, he touched your face with his bronze hands and kissed you gently. " I still can’t believe I’m gonna be able to kiss these lips forever, Y/N." You smiled at him before you grabbed him by the shoulder to push him towards you, and kissed him again. " Then hurry up and leave, so you’ll be back soon and I’ll have a chance to convince you that everything is real." Winking at him, he laughed loudly and heartily, a more melodic sound than any lyre or flute.
"Then I shall not be long in returning to your arms, my lord" And so he departed towards the horizon, and you smiled as you watched him disappear into the sky, thinking with satisfaction of the world that will look up to him with longing and admiration, knowing that he will never again stop for anyone but you, once his daily duties are over.
Hi!! i love your writing sm, i was just wondering if I could be added to your tag list anytime you post King Baldwin IV fanfics? if not, that's okay!
Omg thank you so much😭😭 Absolutely yes!! I'll tag you right away on the last fic (that I literally just finished writing lmaoo).
Also, if you like how I write his character then I'm sure you'll love the series I'm gonna start writing very very soon :3
Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!
A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!
Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭
Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!
Word count: 2918
Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.
It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.
And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.
It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.
And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.
And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.
With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.
His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy.
To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.
How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.
His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.
But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.
And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.
When I see the lark beating
Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun
That it forgets itself and lets itself fall
Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart
She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.
Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.
Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me
Of all those whom I see rejoicing,
But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?
His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.
I wonder that my heart, at that moment,
Does not melt from desire.
Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil.
Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.
Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...
Alas! How much I thought I knew
About love, and how little I know,
Because I cannot keep myself from loving
The one from whom I will gain nothing.
"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.
"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”
He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face.
He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"
You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."
His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.
"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.
"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven."
You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.
Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"
"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."
"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in.
For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.
@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3
Thank you so much for all the support lately, it really means a lot!
Sadly I've been quite busy lately because of school, work and family matters, so I kind of stopped writing in the past days.
I was actually working on a bunch of unrequested fics, but since I've recieved a few requests I'll focus on those first, and I'm pretty positive that I'll be able to publish them by the end of the working week but I won't make promises.
I won't make any spoilers about neither of these fics, but I'll just say, they're both about two characters whose fics I've written have been really like by the readers...
cough cough Baldwin and Lester cough cough
Sooo that is all for now, I'm starting to work on both fics, I really hope to be able to post them asap.
Bye everyoneeee hope you have a wonderful day and week💕💕💕
Oh shit I forgot about that part.
Well at least they were equal, not an adult killing a child (I apologise for my terrible memory lmao)
It's crazy how after both playing the Arcana and studying ancient history I can confidently say that Count Lucio is basically the same as Emperor Augustus.
I mean, their lives are so similar it's scary.
Both weren't rightfully meant to become leaders of a kingdom/empire/city, but they got that title thanks to another important figure that owned that power before them and passed it down to them.
They brought peace and promoted their victories and their right to command through art and games (the Latins used to say "panem et circenses" which literally means "bread and circus <games>", indicating that the best way to command with the support of the people was through food and fun times, which for both Vesuvia and Rome meant gladiators and Arenas).
Nobody talks about this but Augustus KILLED HIS HALF BROTHER, he threw Caesar and Cleopatra's child down a goddamn window to secure his right to the throne- and he's still remembered as a hero and the one that brought peace to the people of Rome!!!!
Also let's not mention that he wanted to promote the traditional family values yet he got married three times and left one of his wives with a message right after she had his baby. Like, baby popped out, message arrives: "yo we're divorced now".
Like, is Count Lucio that bad compared to THIS?
A/N: guys I’ve still got a few pics that are coming out in this weekend, after those are out I’ll probably create a first masterlist!! Also, there are two series that are going to start in the near future, one for king Baldwin and another one for Countess Nadia so if you’re interested stay tuned!
P.S.: this time I don't know where the paining is from, so if you know whose artist is this from please tell me, I'd really appreciate the help☺️
Warning: angst, mentions of betrayal, SPOILERS for the PJO story (whether it’s books, series or movies). Oh and reader is described as female
I think Luke would’ve been restless for weeks trying to figure out what to say to you when the time would’ve come for him to reveal his secret alliance with Kronos, what words would be best fit to make the idea sound more appealing, to increase the chances of you joining him against the Olympians
But as much as he pondered his words, as much as he tried to convince himself that in the end you’d choose him, there was this feeling he had that you wouldn’t follow him this time. And that made him spiral even further, made him try to push down the dooming feeling and focus instead on how to sound even more convincing, how to just get him to listen to him… or more precisely, listen to Kronos
But deep down, he knew that his choices were gonna make him lose you
Although at some point Luke finally seemed to realize that he got so lost in his own thoughts that he started neglecting you. Well, he didn’t really realize it on his own, it was Connor who made him snap back to reality with his dumb jokes
“Hey Luke you keep ignoring your girl and I’m just gonna steal her away. Bet you wouldn’t even notice huh.” Yeah he got a few slaps on the back of his neck for that
But Connor’s harmless words were not so wrong. He didn’t even realize how long it’s been since he even talked to you properly other than kissing you good morning and goodnight
He didn’t even realize how close the end of summer was getting, which, if he didn’t succeed, might’ve been the last months the two of you would spend together
After a little pause to just panic and frantically walk around the Hermes’ cabin trying to make out what to do, he got an idea
You’ve always love theaters, not only to watch the plays, but also to bask in the atmosphere of it all
And he remembered that when he stumbled upon an abandoned theater in a town not too far from Camp
He knew right then and there that he was gonna take you there that night, so that you could forgive him for his absence and he could forget about the rest on the world and focus on you. Nothing else but you
It didn’t take long for him to steal find a necklace that he knew you would’ve loved to wear, a little trinket that would make him be always near to your heart, even when he wouldn’t have been by your side anymore
He left it in a nice little box on your pillow, along with a little note…
I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll make it up to you I swear. Meet me at the forest tonight I’m taking you to a place
Your mild disappointment in Luke’s absence quickly morphed into curiosity as you held the note in you hand, holding the necklace close to your heart as you tried to fight back the smile at the thought of his mysterious surprise
Once you reached your rendezvous, he was already there, impatiently waiting for you, holding his hand out to you with an apologetic smile
The walk to the theater, which you still didn’t know was your last stop, was about two hours long, and you mostly spend that time walking silently hand in hand, exchanging very few words
Silence wasn’t anything new between you two, it was actually quite common for you to spend some silent, quality time in each other’s company, with no sound but the world around you
But this time felt different, you could feel that his silence had ulterior motives other than the comfort of quietness
You asked him about it, and he brushed it off saying that his counselor duties have worn him out lately. It was the biggest lie he could’ve told you, but you didn’t question the truth of his words
Because you’d trusted him completely since day one
It broke his heart even further to see how blindly you believed his excuses, so oblivious of the true reason behind his weird behavior. It made him wonder, how broken will you be when you’ll find out the truth
For a moment though, even if brief, all his sorrows disappeared when you finally reached the grandiose abandoned theater, whose splendor still made it stand out despite years of neglect, and your eyes lit up like two new stars to be added to the night sky
You basically rushed him in at that point, earning a laugh from him as he followed you inside
Once you were right before the stage, he swiftly got on top of it before turning around and charmingly offering you his hand to help you up as well
He looked at you for a second, almost entering in a trance as he got lost in the sight of you. But once you called him out, he sheepishly laughed before moving to grab his phone in his pocket, putting some music on before placing it on the ground and turning once again towards you
He knelt before you dramatically, speaking with a mockingly resounding tone, "My lady, would you do me the immense honor of granting me this dance?" You just laughed and nodded
You both danced together, slowly swaying around the stage while holding each other close
You noticed that, as he smiled fondly at you, his smile didn’t really reach his eyes
You wanted to believe what he’d told you, you really did. But there was this gut feeling in you that told you that there was something else going on
“You sure everything’s fine? You don’t look like you’re just tired babe..”, “No no I’m fine, I swear it! I just… I need to be with only you right now.”
You spent so much time there together, that in the end it would’ve been too tiring to go back to Camp straight away, so you opted to spend the rest of the night there
Well, more than opting to it was Luke who begged you to spend the night there with him, forget the rest, you’re both old enough to not have to respond to any of your godly parents
Thinking back to that day, you wonder if you should’ve gotten worried at his bitter words against the gods, instead of simply taking it as his natural aversion to the Olympians
You fell asleep first, lying on the dusty, hard pavement, while Luke stroked your cheek lovingly, staring at your body with a look that he’d spared you the sight of
His heart was about to shatter into a million pieces, all because he knew that this might’ve been his last time spending the night with you, being this close to you
In less than a week, Percy and Annabeth were coming back to Camp, and if they’d succeeded than it wouldn’t take much for them to find out the truth about the theft of Zeus’ lighting
And as much as he wanted to believe his own delusions that you were going to stay by his side through the whole things, he knew that would never be
And he tried, he really tried so hard to keep in his true emotions for the whole evening, but he couldn’t take him anymore when he saw the necklace he’d gifted you just hours before around your neck
And the promise ring he’d given you on your first anniversary
And the little heart he drew on your arm the day before to annoy you
All little things that brought back the memories of almost four years he’d been with you. All memories of something that will soon end
It makes him wonder if you’ll keep all his little gifts, or if you’ll burn and rip and break everything that reminded you of him
He barely registered the tears that fell from his eyes as he held on to you for dear life as if you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you firmly enough
His cries became more intense as time passed, but he remained careful not to be loud enough to wake you up from your slumber. It was a mixture of unintelligible declarations of love and apologies, that he repeated like a prayer
Because in the end, he was indeed praying
Praying for you to see the reasoning behind his actions, for you to realize that he was in the right and that you had to follow him in this revolution
And if you wouldn’t grant him this wish, then at least he prayed you’d still harbor the same love that you felt for him for all these years, that you will someday be able to forgive him, leave a place for him into your heart
A/N: okay so a few weeks ago I was listening to the song “It’s Over isn’t it” form the Steven Universe series and this scenario came to my mind, so I thought I’d just make it a fic! For this piece I didn’t see a point in assigning a gender to the reader, so we go with gender neutral all the way😎😎(neither your godly parent is specified since it doesn’t really add anything to the plot, so you can choose whichever you prefer)
PART TWO IS HERE
Warning: insecurity, jealousy, angst (WITH comfort tho), mentions of suggestive activities
Word count: 3209
You kinda hate yourself right now, and you hate yourself because you are so angry right now.
Well maybe angry is an exaggeration, but still, you’re really, really upset.
And you know you should be anything but upset right now. I mean, the love of your life finally has the chance to go back to his home in the Olympus, regain his honor and his status as a god. Those were all good things that you should be ecstatic about, right?
Well, wrong.
Just thinking of it made you feel like you could throw up at any moment. Thinking about the fact that Apollo. Because, what will be of Lester, your Lester?
Your whole relationship had started because he wasn’t Apollo. He wasn’t the tall, tan, handsome and all mighty God of the Sun; he was just a normal teen, whose only things that made him stick out were his acne, his clumsiness and a somewhat nice voice. His mortal condition didn’t even give him a single chance to act in his usual exaggerated, narcissistic self. He had to start off from the start, build a personality that wasn’t based on his godly qualities, but on something more real.
And in that situation he found himself in, with his new eyes he had seen you, and you truly seemed like a deity to him.
How could you be anything less to the rest of the world, he thought. You were your godly parent’s greatest hero, you were liked and admired by most campers both because of your victories and your looks. And he spent oh so many nights fantasizing about taking you back with him in Olympus, giving you the godly status that should be rightfully yours. But hell, with the body he’d found himself in he’d barely the courage to come up to you to talk.
He told you so many times how absolutely surprised he was when he found out that you actually liked him back, even if he looked like any 17 year old loser, his actual words. And you remembered too, how his voice was so shaky as he tried to muster up a coherent sentence, how his cheeks shone a bright red, how his hands were trembling as you took them into yours and his palms sweating. But in your mind, that was more beautiful than any sonnet, any haiku, any poem, any grandiose, Apollo-like gesture. Because that was Lester, not Apollo; and in your eyes, Lester’s awkwardness was what made him stand out, because it was purely genuine.
Now ever so often you wonder, if he used to feel like you’re feeling right now, like you’re no match to the person you love. You look at your reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, and the mean joke that played your mind made you highlight all the flaws you could spot in yourself. All things that a god could never accept in their lover. You feel so wrong, so flawed that you just wish you could turn yourself into mud and reform your appearance completely.
Gods, you’re being ridiculous right now, you think, you just want to slap yourself in the face and yell at your reflection to get a grip goddamnit! You’re one of the greatest heroes of your time, you survived two wars, you can’t possibly draw the line at a failed relationship with a god.
At one point someone might think: but why are you so opposed to the idea that your boyfriend is finally becoming a god once again? How ungrateful can you be??
But the point is, you know damn well that the whole point of the creation of Lester was forcing Apollo into a form that would’ve been the total opposite of who he is.
Because Apollo is naturally flirty and superficial, he loves to love and be loved, and he pursues anything and everything that he finds beautiful. But he got bored easily of his love conquers, hence why he has so many kids. So in your mind, it was only natural that as soon as he was back to normality, he’d grow tired of you and move to the next mortal that piqued his interest, maybe even leaving you a single parent to a new demigod.
That’s why you couldn’t stop that nagging feeling deep into your core, as you walked out of your cabin, hearing all the girls already speculating about how beautiful, handsome, shiny and dashing Apollo will be once he goes back to his form. “And who knows, maybe he’ll set his eyes on some of the friends he made in here” squealed a girl, from which cabin you did not know nor care. Her friend replied: “Yeah I mean, ain’t no way he’s gonna keep staying with the same partner forever. I mean, come on, he’s Apollo!” They both giggled like school girls, then kept gossiping about something else, but you did not care enough to keep eavesdropping their whole conversation.
You really hated yourself for being like this right now.
Of course, you know that those two girls meant no harm, it wasn’t their fault if they knew just as much as you did about Apollo’s tendencies. And about that you’re already came to terms with, but there’s something else you hate yourself for…
You stopped reaching out to him. Or even worse, you even started to avoid him.
Not also him, but your friends and siblings as well. You closed yourself off of everyone else in your life, opting to spend your free days in Camp by yourself, whether it is in your cabin, sparring or all alone in your favorite spot in the forest.
Which is exactly where you’re directed to right now, as you put your headphones in your ears, wasting no time to press play and then abuse the volume up button to muffle any sound from the outside. You walk past the two girls, past another group of guys that were training with one another, and past your friends too, who you didn’t noticed as they were calling and waving at you to join them for a quick snack, leaving them rather confused and preoccupied as it seemed that you were stuck in a trance, locked out in another dimension of your own.
You didn’t even see Lester excusing himself from the group to subtly start following you wherever you were going.
It’s a quiet place, the one in the forest, protected by a thick layer of trees and bushes that makes it hard to reach it; but it’s worth all the climbing and scratches for the beautiful sight of a clear waterfall that fell right into a circular body of water, surrounded by a rather big field of moss, so soft and fresh to lay on during the hot summer nights.
And so you did, letting yourself fall on that natural mattress, then closing your eyes to feel the light breeze on your exposed skin, and let the words of the song that’s blasting at full volume at the moment fill your ears, although you can barely focus on what they’re saying
It really seems unfair, all of this. That you thought you had fallen in love not with a god, but with a boy. Somehow forgetting that boy and god mixed in Lester, two sides of the same coin.
And maybe he forgot too, because every time the two of you were together, he suddenly couldn’t bring himself to think of the responsibilities that were waiting for him. With you, he forgot about his lost and very much missed abs and tan, he forgot about his chariot and his comfortable place in Olympus. Hell, you even made him forget about all his old lovers. It was really only you in his eyes, just as he was in yours. If only he’d ever told you all of this though…
Your mind keeps swirling in a million thoughts, until it fixates on one memory in particular.
You and him, alone on that very same spot in the forest. In a similar situation as you were now, too, with your crappy phone playing music softly in the background, as the the two of you laid together, one next to the other. You turn around to look at him briefly, only to find him already looking at you. “What, do I have something on my face or..” he just shake his head with the most lovestruck eyes you’d ever seen, batting his eyes slowly before looking at you once again, “I just really want to kiss you right now”.
Your eyes widen. His eyes widen. Did he really just say THAT?
Neither of you were sure how or why, thinking back to it, you wonder if it was his godly charm poking at the back of his head. But that didn’t matter at the time, the future in which he came back to his godly state seemed so far from you, it wasn’t even an option in your head.
Nevertheless, after the initial shock from his words, you silently answered him with a slow, almost numbed movement of the head, nodding slightly, almost scared that if you moved to fast you would’ve whisked him away, or that he could’ve changed his mind already.
But that nod was all that he needed before crashing his lips against yours, one of his hands flying to grab the side of your head, while the other stayed put on its place against the ground to keep him from falling on top of you.
The kiss was an absolute mess: teeth clashing, nose bumping against each other,... but it was perfect that way to you. You broke away from each other for a brief moment to catch your breaths, and you just look into each other’s eyes. With chests heaving, breaths mixing, you both started laughing, if only for a moment, a laugh of disbelief at what had just happened.
But that laugh didn’t last long before he moved his head closer once again, this time more slowly, more confidently. The kiss was in fact much less messy, your lips found their place against each other, the panic from before had morphed into pure butterflies in your stomach and fireworks in your eyes.
After a minute at most, you broke apart once again, but only for Lester to reposition himself on top of you in a more comfortable position. Your bodies closer than ever, you could feel everything of him….
What happened after still makes your cheeks flush red at the mere thought, but it also causes a frown to form on your face. Those times, when it was just the two of you are over. Maybe it was just a time of crisis that brought you two together, the shock from a morta perspective might have caused him to cling onto the closes person he could find. You can’t help but imagine Leste- Apollo in that moment, laying in the clouds of Olympus in a much similar scenario, maybe with a beautiful nymph or a smaller deity, or a mortal he laid his eyes on while he was on this earth-
“There you are! I should’ve known that if you’re not around you’re definitely in here.” If it were a normal, mortal voice, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the deafening high volume of the music blasting in you ears. But it wasn’t a mortal voice.
It was loud, it was melodic, it resonated in the air like the echo of the most beautiful of songs,…
You wouldn’t even need to turn around to know that that voice came from no other than Apollo. That’s right, he probably came back to his true form already. You can’t even imagine what a scene that would’ve been, to see the handsomely perfect god walking around Camp Half Blood, how many boys and girls had probably followed him around drooling over the sight of him.
You wish you could just stay put, coldly dismiss him and let him go for what probably is the rest of your life and his eternity. But, curiosity gets the best of you, and you can’t help but turn around tentatively, eager to see what your boyfriend really looks like.
Your mouth quite literally hits the floor at the sight. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always found Lester really attractive, but this.
This was something beyond the concept of handsome or beautiful.
This, him, was beyond what humans can perceive and comprehend.
Yes, you knew that his skin was tanned, but as he stood in front of you it seemed as if his body was made of bronze.
And yes, you also knew that his hair was blonde, but that didn’t make them justice. They flew, like rays of sun through a clouded sky.
Of his eyes you knew nothing about, but you were pretty sure at this point that no description could really depict just how deep, bright, captivating, alluring, even, they really were.
Your mouth quite literally hit the floor at the sight. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always found Lester really attractive, but this.
This was something beyond the concept of handsome or beautiful.
This, him, was beyond what humans can perceive and comprehend.
Yes, you knew that his skin was tanned, but as he stood in front of you it seemed as if his body was made of bronze.
And yes, you also knew that his hair was blonde, but that didn’t make them justice. They flew, like rays of sun through a clouded sky.
Of his eyes you knew nothing about, but you were pretty sure at this point that no description could really depict just how deep, bright, captivating, alluring, even, they really were.
Your throat felt tight, your mouth dry, and your whole body gives you this tingly sensation. With all of your strength, you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, before mustering all of your strength to speak without a pathetic shaky voice. “I thought you were going back as soon as you got your body back.“
“Ain’t no way that I wasn’t coming to kiss my beautiful partner goodbye.” He grinned as he swiftly took a seat right by your side, propping himself on his elbow, his eyes never once leaving yours. You swore his smile was intoxicating, you’d say contagious even if the thought that this might’ve been your last moments together didn’t fill your mind with sorrow.
You wanted to protect yourself from this, detach your mind and heart from him before he does it first, leaving you with an aching heart and moving on with his eternal life.
You felt a hand come up to your cheek, holding it softly as the sweetest melody came from his lips, “I’m gonna miss you madly once I’m back there, you know?” At that, you can’t help the deep anger that fills you from inside, a feeling that expresses through icy, stinging words, as you turned your head away from his touch, “I’m sure you’ll move on in no time.”
He frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he expected from you at all, but he didn’t really take it personally, it was so obvious that there was something troubling you. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” your voice is louder, a mixture of frustration and anger. But also so much sadness, that can be felt by just how strained the sound that came from your throat is, almost as if you were fighting back tears. You swallow hard, trying to recollect yourself, “I mean that you are a God, I am just a mortal. One of many. I’ve got nothing special to be remembered for, to be remembered by you for the rest of eternity. And Im okay with it, really. Our destinies were never meant to combine, I was just another one of your lovers.” As you spoke those last words you couldn’t help but let the tears flow from your eyes, those who always looked at Lester with a mix of love and mischief, now only filled with a never ending sadness.
Slowly, as to avoid scaring you off, the renewed god took your wet face in his warm hands, pulling you closer and wiping your tears off at the same time. Gently, he spoke: “My love, you couldn’t have said anything more wrong. You are special to me, and I could never forget you. In thousands of years that I’ve existed, no one had ever treated like you did, like I wasn’t a god. Sure, it was temporary and you knew I could’ve incinerated you as soon as I got back to… this.” He looked down, gesturing at his body, a sight for sore eyes that could’ve really made you unfocus on anything were you not so taken by your talk with Apollo at the moment. “But that didn’t stop you from treating me like we were equal. And I hated it, at first. I thought it would be part of my punishment. But as time passed, I realized that being your equal was the highest of honors I could ever get. You’re… you’re crazy strong, incredibly smart, unbelievably beautiful, way too kind for your own good, especially with those brats of the kids in this Camp.”
You giggled at his words, a consistent contrast with your tearful eyes and quiet sobs, “Some of those brats are your children too, genius.” “Well then it must run in the family.” You laughed again while shaking your head, but only for a moment before returning your full attention on the boy in front of you. He took the sign to continue.
“What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think I could ever be able to let you go. Over all the lovers I had through the years, which I’m sure you know are many, you’re the only one that saw me and treated me with true love and care. Not with fearful devotion, never fearing what I was capable of. I only ever saw this kind of love in Sally Jackson, and I mocked Poseidon for letting a mortal like many treat him so casually. But now, now I get it, and to be honest I can’t help but think that you’d deserve to be called a deity far more than many others who already are. Maybe even more than me. So I refuse to ever let go of this blessing that fate has given me. And if in order to do so I have to take your soul and put it on the sky above, to rest as a star forever by my side, so be it. But trust me you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
You crumbled like a sand castle at his words, that he spoke with the very same tone, on the very same spot when you still called him Lester, and you promised to stick by each other’s side for the time you had left, only a few months before this whole encounter. You let your head fall into his broad chest, sobbing softly as you desperately clung to him. Your tears weren’t of sadness anymore, but of relief, for you had just been given the confirmation that your lover was still yours.You spent the rest of the night there, cuddling as close to eachother as possible as you rested in peace.
The morning after, at dawn, when he had to officially go back to his daily duties, he begrudgingly got up from his place in your arms, placing butterfly kisses on your arms and neck, careful not to wake you. He left a little not right next to you, one that read:
“I had to go, didn’t want to wake your pretty face this early in the morning. Meet me here at dusk tomorrow, Forever yours, A.”
It made you smile, seeing that note as soon as you opened your eyes, almost made you forget the lack of your boyfriend next to you,… and the yelling of your friends and siblings calling for your name in the distance.
You wasted no time walking towards those voices, and when they asked you just where the hell have you been all night, you just smiled and brushed it off, but everyone noticed how your usual bright self had mysteriously came back after days of brooding.
Hours later, you were calmly eating dinner with the other campers, laughing and talking and eating seemingly decent food. You were totally clueless as to where exactly Apollo was, but you guessed he was on his chariot, on his way to let the sun set and go to your secluded spot. But little did you know, he was in neither of those places. He was actually walking up to Zeus’ throne, tall and proud as he respectfully bowed to his father. “Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”
“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” “Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”
“Depends. What is it that you desire?”
“How do you make a demigod immortal?”
It's crazy how after both playing the Arcana and studying ancient history I can confidently say that Count Lucio is basically the same as Emperor Augustus.
I mean, their lives are so similar it's scary.
Both weren't rightfully meant to become leaders of a kingdom/empire/city, but they got that title thanks to another important figure that owned that power before them and passed it down to them.
They brought peace and promoted their victories and their right to command through art and games (the Latins used to say "panem et circenses" which literally means "bread and circus <games>", indicating that the best way to command with the support of the people was through food and fun times, which for both Vesuvia and Rome meant gladiators and Arenas).
Nobody talks about this but Augustus KILLED HIS HALF BROTHER, he threw Caesar and Cleopatra's child down a goddamn window to secure his right to the throne- and he's still remembered as a hero and the one that brought peace to the people of Rome!!!!
Also let's not mention that he wanted to promote the traditional family values yet he got married three times and left one of his wives with a message right after she had his baby. Like, baby popped out, message arrives: "yo we're divorced now".
Like, is Count Lucio that bad compared to THIS?
Stay tuned guys
This post goes out to all the Kingdom of Heaven fans that write ffs, especially about our King - Baldwin IV
Now this idea may not be historically correct but I still need someone to make a story out of it. I'm talking A LONG ASS story with many chapters because I'm somehow a hopeless romantic when it comes to Baldwin.
So here's the story:
(Please use Y/N for Tiberias' daughter and not some name)
We start off long before Baldwin was born, when Tiberias and his wife arrive in the Kingdom of Heaven. Later on they have a daughter together, around the same time Baldwin was born. Tiberias already has a close relationship with the royal family at this time because of his wise knight shit. At some point Tiberias' wife dies and he has to raise their daughter on his own and he starts taking her to the palace where her and young Baldwin would often play together and develope a friendship. At some point Baldwin's illness is discovered. The priests and higher ranked people try to find a wife for him asap in order to keep the bloodline but every woman kindly rejects, scared of the illness so they just accept Baldwin's lonely fate. His illness is slowly taking over his body and Tiberia's daughter decides to take care of him, not being scared of him no matter how disfigured he looks. But when Baldwin notices that he's slowly developing feelings for her and that his face looks more and more sinister and his limbs are slowly becoming useless, he becomes kinda distant because he's scared to confess his feelings.
Remember that scene in the movie when Baldwin asks Balian to marry Sybilla? That's when he confesses his feelings. So let's imagine Tiberias' daughter is there too and when the men are done talking Baldwin sends off Balian and Tiberias but wants Y/N to stay. "No, Y/N. Not you. I need to talk to you. Stay... please." Or something like that. And we all know that Baldwin knew that Jerusalem was doomed because of his sister and that's why his confession goes something like:
"You know there is one more thing I could have done to save Jerusalem and its people... and I'm now regretting that I haven't done this."
Y/N: "And that would be?"
Baldwin: "Making you my wife"
And then he goes on with his cheesy romantic medieval confession. And Y/N confesses too bla bla bla and she then even takes off his mask and kisses him on the corner of his lips (one side of his mouth wasn't that damaged, remember?).
On his death day she takes care of his wounds one last time.
Make their last conversation HEARTWRENCHING. I WANNA CRY.
After his death Y/N seeks comfort in her father. Make it a wholesome daughter - father relationship (idk how to do that because I never had a father lmaoooo)
How the story ends is for you to decide. Maybe Y/N goes to Cyprus with Tiberias because she cannot take it to watch the Kingdom fall that Baldwin created and led with so much love and respect for the people.
You can also add some suggestive themes. For example Baldwin dreaming about getting intimate with Y/N because he's just that touch-deprived.
So yeah if anyone would be willing to take on this idea - you're more than welcome to do so and I'd DEFINITELY read it. I personally am not good at writing GOOD stories because English isn't my first language and I would ruin the story by using "basic" English. And since Kingdom of Heaven takes place during medieval times you need to write such stories in "fancy" English.
Anyways. I had to get this off my semi-autistic mind or else I would have gone CRAZY.
I just hope this post reaches the right people🙏
A/N: I haven’t got much to say this time, just a reminder that requests are open and will remain this way for some weeks at the very least:))
Warning: absolutely none (maybe some swearing? But like, two bad words), just pure fluff. Also, reader uses female pronouns
It was kind of against your destiny to fall in love: Aphrodite is bound to never return Hephaestus’ love, so that they’re stuck in a loveless marriage. With the two of you, it’s the total opposite
The exact same MOMENT you see the boy in camp, disheveled look, face covered in machine oil and dust, you’re, absolutely smitten
It’s the classical “she fell first, he fell harder” type of trope
He notices you pretty early on too, but he doesn’t even try to approach you at first
I mean, no way that the prettiest child of Aphrodite could ever even look into his direction, you’re wayyyy over his league
It takes Piper’s help to start things up, when she accidentally stumbles upon Leo while she was taking a walk around camp. “Oh how rude of me. Y/N, this is my best friend, Leo”
It would be embarrassing to write down just how much he’s stumbled on his words the first time the two of you talked, just because of how he was absolutely captured by your godly beauty
He comes to find that you’re also a lot more than you’re looks: you’re funny, smart, clever, strong as fuck, and one of the best friends Leo has ever known
It doesn’t take long for him to realize that he’s completely and irrevocably in love with you, but oh boy how long does it take him to confess it to you
He had prepared this big, fancy plan to take you by the beach, with candles all around, a circle of rose petals and in the center of it a picnic filled with all of your favorite foods waiting to be devoured
Too bad he didn’t check the weather that morning, or he would’ve seen that a storm was expected right on that evening. He might’ve asked for Percy’s or Jason’s help too, maybe they could’ve done some big-god shit to prevent the rain
Nevertheless, you both found yourself soaked wet, standing by a line of extinguished candles, the petals long gone with the wind, and the food watered down to a soup
He wanted to drown himself in the sea right then and there, but he was quickly stopped by your laugh coming from behind him
Oh gods, where you making fun of him? Did you figure out what his intentions were? It must’ve been it, I mean, how could you ever want to have anything to do with him other than simple friendship, he’s been so stupid so reckles-
His track of thoughts was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a loving kiss, your skilled lips so soft and comforting against his much inexperienced ones
“You could’ve just told me you liked me at Camp, you know.”
“Wait, was it that simple?”
You laughed again shaking your head at his cluelessness, and he swore the sound of your laugh could’ve been the only thing he needed to live from that moment on
Okay no maybe food too, but you get the idea
You spend most of the time chilling in cabin 9 while he works on his projects, chilling in his bed or peaking at what he was doing
He definitely calls you dove for obvious reasons
Best believe that as soon as you guys are a thing all his flirting with every girl that moves is OVER my boy does not come from the streets he’s a loyal mf
After the curfew you usually sneak out to chill in some secluded area in the forest, and cuddle for hours in the moonlight
And whenever it rains, you waste no time to go at the beach and dance in the rain, reminiscing about the day you two got together
Oh, and get ready to see Leo as an emotional wreck anytime one of you is on a quest, when he’s unable to text you or hear anything from you for days or even WEEKS
He’s sure that’s worse than Prometheus’ destiny
Overall it’s like a golden retriever - siamese cat relationship, 10/10 would recommend
A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot.
Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.
Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.
Word count: 3209
You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy.
While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.
You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down.
It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.
You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze.
You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.
"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.
After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.
And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.
I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life.
You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes
But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.
Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."
All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.
"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him.
"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.
"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."
After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.
And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.
Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…
Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.
You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.
It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.
How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.
Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.
One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.
You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.
"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.
It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."
You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."
It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.
You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..
In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.
And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.
"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.
He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."
You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."
"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."
Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.
And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.
You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.
A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!
Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.
(this is a rant of mine that CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ASRA'S ROUTE IN THE ARCANA, so read at your own risk)
So, Asra right? My first love interest in the game, the person that basically built my ideal type,.. him.
It is common knowledge in this fandom that his love for the MC is completely unending end unconditional, right?
Well, I might disagree.
This idea came to my mind a few days ago, and from then on I spent my days contemplating life in despair and depression at my realization.
Asra's love IS FUCKED UP and I think it is more of an addiction to the MC rather than pure, unconditional love.
Let me elaborate: first he loses his parents, then he finds Muriel but he still lives in fear of losing him every time he had to fight in the Arena, then he had you, who for about 6 years had stayed by his side, with no signs of leaving anytime soon.
He wanted you all to himself, the only thing that remained stable in his life. That is, until the plague. That's the time where the selfishness of the purpose of his actions really comes to light: he wants everything and everyone to be just as he wants.
I mean, let's face it, no matter how much he might have pleaded and begged you to come with him and leave the city, he still left you there, alone, risking your life,... just so that he could be safe. Screw where you were, he was sure that at the end of it all, you would've still been there, waiting for him.
Because out of all the people in his life, you were the only one that never left
But it all changes when Julian's letter reaches him, and he comes back to Vesuvia. And you're gone.
I really think that his grief was mostly due to the loss of something stable in his life, rather than the lost of the love of his life.
After all, it didn't take long for him to start a relationship with Julian, and I don't care if some might say that it's some sort of coping mechanism, if Asra was able to do it all while still working to get you back, hitting it with Julian knowing that he was gonna have you back soon... that's just fucked up.
Also, his protective tendencies when MC comes back are rather possessive in my opinion: he keeps you like a trophy inside the shop, while he keeps wandering around the world, fulfilling his own selfish desire to visit as much as he can, while still keeping you in your cozy place, inside the castle.
That is also the whole point of the Reversed Ending of his route, that he could consider his own happy ending: he has you, all to himself, forever.
I think that the best side of Asra comes out when you play the other routes, because he has to come to term with his own issues and with the fact that at this point he cannot keep you to himself anymore. And with time he'll come to realize that what he feels for you is more of a spiritual connection, probably thanks to your own aura and magic, rather than a real romantic connection.
That's it, thanks for coming to my ted talk babes
I love how I was hesitant about writing a king Baldwin's fic because I thought it wouldn't be of interest for readers but turns out it's my most liked post yet
Summary: just some headcanons that came to my mind about Asra<3
Warning: smuttt, but nothing crazy tho, there are mostly mentions or hints of smut, nothing specifically described (it’s mostly just angst tbh). There are also SPOILERS for Asra’s route and the Arcana plot in general, so if you haven’t finished playing it I suggest you don’t read this post.
A/N: just to specify, reader is wrote as non-binary:) Also, this is the first smuttish thing I write, so feedbacks and advices are very much welcome<3<3
Asra has always been a passionate lover. It’s just the way he is, his body can’t help but follow the intensity of feelings his soul feels, and transfer it from the level of the soul to the level of the body
When he first met you, it was almost as if a wave washed over him, depriving him of balance, and he could find it once again in the feeling of you and your body, pressed against him
Passion mixes with intensity and haste the first times the two of you have sex. His every movement is a physical demonstration of just how deep, how powerful, his feelings for you are
Once the two of you are done, you’re left breathless, legs shaking and sore, sweat covering your body, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. You’re spent in the best way possible
It starts to change during the beginning of the Red Plague. The deep empathy you feel for the people dying in the streets, the desire to do something to help, takes all your desires to feel pleasure (or anything joyful for that matter), replacing it with the urge to help as many as you can
You start growing distant from each other, the atmosphere in the shop becomes tense, the interactions between you and Asra are short and almost void of any emotion. You start visiting the castle more often, volunteering to help doctor Devorak in finding a cure for this Plague. It comes without say that sex wasn’t really in neither of your minds
And it only becomes worse after your death. Asra feels that same wave washing over him, but this time he doesn’t welcome the feeling of it. It make feel lost, knowing that the very person he used to hold on to, the only one that made him forget the rest of the world, and just give into the pleasure the wave brought
This wave brings grief, desperation. Hell, it even brings hallucinations to some point. He can’t make out what’s real and what’s fake, he can’t discern when he’s dreaming and when he’s awake
It’s at this point that his situationship with Julian starts. We all know just how toxic it was, for the both of them. But Julian needed to feel love in these dreadful times, and Asra needed to feel that same feeling of grounding to save him from the power of that wave
It wasn’t the same as you, he knew that very well. Julian couldn’t fill the void of love Asra felt, he could only satisfy his carnal desires, give him that brief high that, for just a moment, made him forget everything that was happening in his life, his losses, his mistakes, his regrets
But not much time passes before that high becomes unsatisfying, and the guilt of what he’s doing takes over him. How can he do this with Julian, when all he’s thinking of is you? How can he deem himself worthy of having you once again in his arms, when instead of keeping the void you left empty, awaiting for your return, he filled it with someone else, someone not even comparable to you in his eyes?
That’s when the weird relationship between Asra and Julian ends, when Asra conveys all his energies and time in finding a way to get you back
At first, there was nothing in his mind when it came to you other than gratitude to have you back along with the utmost care to tend to you, to comfort you when you were in pain or scared at whatever appeared new to you after you came back. Your mind was at the same level as one of a child, there was no desire in Asra other than to have you back as you were
As time goes by, and you regain the aspects of the person you once were, that desire, that wave of passion, starts to awaken once again in him
And then after years of longing for the feeling of you’re touch, of your body pressed against him, he once again can feel that same feeling of euphoria once your bodies merge once again. Only that this time, his demeanor has changed. There’s a different kind of intensity in his actions
There’s not the feverish haste in his movements anymore; instead, he takes his sweet time kissing you, caressing your body, worshipping you as if you were some sort of deity. He holds you as if you’d disappear in his arms if he loosens his grip too much
His thrusts are slow and deep, making that wave of pleasure that’s in him fall into you too. It makes you feel a deeper kind of pleasure, one with such forse that it has you detached from reality once you reach your high, it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and it makes you only desire to hold Asra closer, to have him deeper inside you. You almost wish you could become one
There are still times where you have fast, rough sex, one that ends quickly and leaves you both breathless and spent. But you just prefer to feel that deeper connection, the one that has you longing for more, that morphs into endless hours of just holding each other. It makes you both feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the world but you two
Thank you all so much for the support, it really means a lot for me cuz I was so worried that my writing wouldn't be liked. BUT, this isn't the reason I'm posting rn.
So as you might know, I'm a history enthusiast, ESPECIALLY about ancient Greek history and mythology. And I've been reconnecting to the PJO fandom a lot lately, and since many people started to take interest in it too after the new series, I thought this was the right time to talk about a thing that never sat right in my head.
Athena's children.
Don't get me wrong, I like how they depicted their birth in the series, but after all I've studied during all these years, all the texts I personally translated from the original Greek inscriptions and all, I still don't think that Athena would ever make kids of their own.
She's a very jealous deity (think about the Arachnis myth and many many others) so why would she give birth to an offspring that would inherit part of her own wit and intellect, knowing there's even the smallest chance that they could surpass her own skills.
She wouldn't really see a point in making kids.
But, and this has happened various times in mythology, she gladly protects other heroes as long as they fight and win in her name.
So, my idea to perfect even more the PJO world, I've been thinking for a long time that Athena's cabin could consist of demigods from various godly parents, maybe some even unclaimed, but all satisfying Athena's standards. Idk if this is just me reaching insanity or if this is actua a good idea, it made sense in my head😭😭
Anyway, that's it, thanks for coming to my Ted talk :3
ALSO quick reminder that requests are still open and won't be closed anytime soon💗💗