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For all the people who sent me fic/headcanons requests, they're being written don't worry! It's taking me much, much longer than expected because of some school issues I've been having, but they're on their way to get posted!

Hopefully they'll be almost all out before june, but I won't make promises.

Just so that you know that your requests haven't been forgotten, here's a list of all requested Baldwin IV fics that I'm working on rn:

Reader sneaks into the battle of Montgisard to reunite with her husband

Reversed "sweetest of melodies" where Baldwin is the one singing

Labor and birth headcanons

Reader giving birth to triplets (will probably be a part 1 for the other following two)

Baldwin has to keep distance from his newborn children

Baldwin and reader spending time with their children

Baldwin falls in love with the bandit that kidnapped him

Baldwin comforting reader after a nightmare

General headcanons

Only case in which Baldwin would lash out at reader

Reader who loves math

Baldwin falling in love with a servant

These should be all, I really wanted to make this post to reassure those who have asked for these fics almost weeks ago, please bare with me I'm trying to write as quickly as possible without lowering the quality of my writing😭😭

Could you do head canons of jealous Baldwin? I know he was a very honorable person and probably wouldn’t act out on his jealousy but like what are small things he would do if he was??

Eheheh I wrote some jealousy headcanons for him a few days ago, sorry if I haven't been that active lately but school has gotten me on a chokehold😔

Anywayy you can read the headcanons here if you didn't already, hope you like itttt<3

Can I request king Baldwin being jealous I just would want to see how it everything would go down 🤔🤔

King Baldwin x reader - Jealousy

A/N: uuuuh I like this concept!! I can't lie it was pretty hard imagining him being jealous, especially since I myself wouldn't even look in other men's direction have I had Baldwin next to me😩😩.

Anyway, hope you like my interpretation of your prompt :))

Painting is "A Midsummer Night's Dream - Hermian and Lysander" by John Simmons by the way :))

Warning: angst, jealousy and talks of insecurity. Reader is specifically described as being female!

I think it's common knowledge at this point that Baldwin is a man of many virtues, who likes to act guided by reason, not by the heart

The only exception to this ironclad rule is, well, you. You're his beloved wife, the only woman who had ever walked this earth able to make him swoon and lose his collected reasoning, in the name of his love for you

In his eyes, you were the most beautiful creature God has created, and your virtues to him had to be honored and made an example to the rest of the world

He knew you really had not much choice in marrying him: after all, it was a political marriage. But the moment he saw your cheeks get warmer, your eyes avert his own and your breath hitching as he got closer to you

He couldn't fathom how he got so lucky to be worthy of even the slightest of your attention, let alone your love. It was something that he cherished like the holiest of relics, and he made sure to show it by showering you in gifts, spending every breathing moment he had as close to you as possible, learning your passions and hobbies and introducing you to his own

But as much as he loved to shower you in the affection you so much deserved, he remained a man whose mind reigned over every other part of him, and that meant that he knew that he wasn't easy to love, mainly because of his appearance

He wasn't unaware of the fact that his decayed face, his bandaged limbs, his sometimes showing wounds,.. they made people feel a sense of uneasiness, it even repulsed some at the mere sight of it

He knew that a pair of soft, full lips would be preferred by any reasonable woman over his own scarred and partly destroyed ones

He knew that a vigorous man, strong enough to fight and ride on his own, to carry you and protect you would be much preferred to his weakened, often bedridden, mangled body

And he also knew that it was the norm that in most forced weddings, infidelity was so normal that it was even romanticized by singers and poets

So as time went on and his condition worsened by the day, the dooming feeling in his mind that warned him about you possibly growing a liking to someone else started to become more and more present in his mind

Especially one time, when a dashingly handsome prince has just arrived to Jerusalem's court, and he seems that you have piqued his interest, for he seems to make it his personal mission to be as close to you as he possibly can

It's almost as if he's forgotten that you’re married to the king of the realm that is hosting him!

Baldwin first noticed a rather unusual demeanor from the prince on the first night that he's been there, when he started to make a never ending string of jokes, all in order to get a melodic laugh out of you

Then came the walk through the garden, where you usually went with your husband to unwind from your royal duties. And now there he was, this bumptious young prince that acted like he could win you over your own husband

It was right then and there that his own self deprecating tendencies left him to be replaced by a burning flame inside of him, the desire to publicly show your belonging to him and him alone

And so he took it upon himself to muster up all his strength in the following hours, before making his appearance in the main hall. Of course he knew he'd found you there, along with your suitor

Oh how his heart swelled when he saw your eyes, firstly semi-closed from the boredom the prince was causing you, light up at the sight of your husband entering the room

He confidently walked through the room until he was right in front of you, gently taking your hand in his and bringing it to his veiled mouth and holding it there for just a little longer than usual, while his celestial eyes never leaving your own

The simple action left you breathless, mostly because you'd never seen that fire within his stare before, yet in that moment he seemed to you as if he had been possessed by some sort of force that granted him such confidence

Breathing in the sight of you for just a little longer, he then turned his gaze to the prince, talking in a satisfied tone

"What a sight for sore eyes is my wife, am I right? I feel sorry for you that you can enjoy of her company for so little, but I'm afraid that she's needed somewhere else."

If you didn't know him any better, you wouldn't be able to comprehend that there's nowhere where you're needed at the moment other than your husband's arms, and you're glad to fill in the empty spot without hesitation

Because, let's be honest, you took this suitor's attentions as a tool to spur your husband, to test his devotion to you and his desire to have you all to himself. You wanted him to see you as not something gave for granted, no, he had to fight for you like the knights fighting in the name of the women they love in the jousts

And that he did, and you could swear that you have never in your short life have felt so loved and wanted as he picked you up midway through the hallway, smiling playfully at you as you lowered the veil off his face

"You're gonna make me have a run for your attentions, my dear. But I must inform you I'm not prone to sharing when it comes to my beloved wife"

You wouldn't want it to be any other way, as he gently laid you on your shared bed before joining you. And there you spend the rest of the day, after he'd called off both of your daily duties just so that he could have that time dedicated to just the two of you, to make a point of the tie between you two, that no man, much less prince, could ever break

So yes, at times Baldwin can become jealous because of his insecurities and your undeniable beauty, but his combative nature gives him the right spur to make him act on it, never letting anything get in his way

REQUESTS ARE OFFICIALLY CLOSED

I'm sorry everyone, but I've got 14 requests waiting already and with the little time I've got lately it'd be impossible to keep up with all of them.

I'll probably reopen them once I've finished the ones in my drafts, though!

hello could you do headcanons smut of baldwin and his chubby wife

King Baldwin x reader - Nsfw headcanons

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 would Baldwin react if reader got sick?

King Baldwin x reader - sickness

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

Can you make more head canons for Baldwin? Like what would he do if you two got into an argument etc etc.

King Baldwin x reader - Arguing with you

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

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!

King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies

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

Hi everyone

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💕💕💕

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

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.

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

Hi everyone, first fic ever is out now!!

Its from a character and an overall fandom I don’t know how many people know about, but I’m really passionate about it so I hope some of you will like it as well! 

I’m working on another fic right now, not giving any spoilers but it’s a request for Aang from AtLA for anyone curious hihihihi

The first fic came out a bit longer than I expected to, but it still didn’t take me as long as I imagined so I’ll probably be able to post this other in no more than another day, but I can’t make any promises.

Aaaaand there’s nothing left to say I think, I wanna remind you all once again that my requests are open for your commissions and I wish you all a good day/night (gotta be night for me cuz it’s 3AM here 😭😭😭)

Just Listen...Okay?

M!Yandere x F!Reader

TW : Breaking and entering, Being Stalked, Watched as you sleep, Non-con Touching, Night terrors, Choking

A/N : Its a short drabble (like 679 words?), but this is going to be my first piece, so i'm interested in feed back & requests to keep this page alive

Sometimes you imagine yourself walking down the street, turning the corner and being taken away without a sound in the dead of night. No one to hear you scream, no one to hear you struggle against your assailant, no one to help you…

That's how most of your nightmares end anyway, waking up drenched in sweat, adrenalin in your veins, and the sudden feeling of being intruded upon.

But tonight was different, soft touches, illegible whisper's, indecipherable dreams, waking up softly. It's new, but not unwelcome compared to the garish and soul shaking night terrors that were being experienced on the regular, like a nightly ritual of sorts. A sweet reprieve from fear just for the night.

As you drew closer to the break of consciousness you could register something.. no someone else next to you, being held in their chest. With them in your bed sharing their warmth. You could feel their warm hands under your night shirt, caressing your back, hearing their serene heartbeat was almost enough to lull you back to sleep…Almost. Feeling your body tense up in their arms they tightened their hold on you, once soft touches turned into rose thorns ready to draw blood if you dared to move in a way that this intruder didn't permit you to.

Soft hushes to your ear made you twist and wriggle away, but their hands were gripping you so harshly that you could only shrink into their oppressive touch. A few minutes passed with them quietly shushing your increasing whimpering, and mellowed attempts to release yourself from their grip.

A hand moved from your back to the top of your head, in an attempt to soothe you. The hushed whispers picked up in volume and then a smooth voice spoke up in the silence.

" Hey, listen to me alright? I've been trying to stop your nightmares or at least make them less intense than they already are. I know this is pretty strange for you, it is for me too. I just wanted to make sure you were sleeping well. I've been seeing you around campus and I was worried. You always seemed worn out, I just wanted to help you, babe. "

They paused for a brief moment like they were contemplating about what they were going to say before speaking and with a flat almost monotone voice they spoke up in the darkness again.

" I want to be your boyfriend and you to be my girlfriend. You don’t have to say yes... right away, but I do want you to think about it. I just don’t want you to make any rushed decisions to be with me. ”

He had started to move his hands up through your shirt and from the top of your head to your throat in the middle of him speaking, he continued on with his flat tone as if he was reciting a speech from memory.

“ And I know this might seem scary, but I promise that I was only trying to help you get to sleep and stay asleep. Just like any good boyfriend would do for his girlfriend. But for now, “ He spoke cautiously, “ I want you to sleep on it okay? “

His hands began to tighten around your throat. Your hands instantly rush up to meet him to attempt to pull them away from suffocating you in your own bed in the dead of night. The sounds of sheets rustling, and short, sharp inhales of air is the only thing that can be heard for the next five minutes. As you feel the blood in your veins start to pump harder to have a last-ditch attempt to get the man's hands from around your neck, black spots start to appear, your breath becomes more forced and labored, you hear him speak up again.

“ It's okay, don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you, just giving you some time to sleep on it. So when you wake up you’ll be able to give me an answer. I'll make sure you have a goodnights rest. Goodnight Babe"

Querenica

(Spanish) A place where one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; The place where you are your most authentic self.

Soo first time writing in a long time (Like since 2013? 2014? My poor tween self). Open to critiques. Just wanna do some angst and a little fluff because ya know. We love crying 🥰

MIRIO TOGATA X F!READER

__________________♡♡♡_________________

"MIRIO!"

"FORGET ABOUT ME! GET ERI OUT OF HERE!"

"I WONT LEAVE YOU DAMMIT! WE PROMISED TO DO THIS TOGETHER"

"I KNOW, BUT THIS IS BIGGER NOW. PLEASE (Y/N) JUST GET HER OUT!"

_________________________________________

° You could still remember the day perfectly as if it was yesterday. The day everything had shifted, turning your world upside down as you could barely wrap your head around the new surroundings and emotions that flew by as you gazed up at the new school. Well, one could only feel so much at the ripe age of eight.

"Are you ready to venture inside?" Your mother, (M/N) asked with a smile, squating down beside you as your small hands clenched at your (F/C) skirt, not able to maintain eye contact. "(Y/N)? It'll be okay, you'll get to make new friends and learn more interesting facts about your favorite subjects," (M/N) tried to put you at ease but there was only so much you can do for a child whose natural, shy nature made it difficult for new transitions and surroundings.

You tried to relax your hands but failed as you gazed up your mother, (E/C) eyes a shade darker than yours staring back warmly, "But won't the other kids make fun of me? My quirks not very show worthy..Maybe we can try again next year?" You had pleaded hopefully, not wanting to leave the comfort of your home without your Mother. (M/N) could only sigh, running a hand softly through your (H/C) tresses, "I'm sorry my sweet girl, Mommy can't homeschool you anymore, I know it'll be strange since it's half way through the first of the year but you'll see," she smiled wide at you, and you couldn't help but smile back too, gaining confidence from her that made your heart warm so much that the flowers of purple and blue next to you sprung to life and bloomed. "Even the flowers agree too," (M/N) laughed as your face turned a soft pink from embarrassment, still not having full control over your quirk. Grabbing your hand softly, your mother stood up tall and gently led you inside, the new adventure waiting for you beyond the doors.

~

"Alright! Everyone settle down we have a new student joining us, come on in" The teacher announced, glancing toward the doorway where you stood frozen, heart racing at the thought of having to introduce yourself now an overwhelming feeling. 'Maybe if I run I can catch Mom?' You thought, but thinking back to her warm eyes and smile, you swallowed and walked in, looking down and trying to ignore the dozens of eyes staring at you. "Introduce yourself my dear," The teacher smiled at you, hoping to ease your anxiousness.

Finally gaining the confidence to look up, you looked around warily at the new faces. Some looking interested, others bored, a few who seemed a mixture of both depending on your introduction. "H-Hello there..My name is (L/N) (F/N), I hope we get along," you'd manage to squeak out, hands tense at your side as you bowed, looking back up as some people gushed over your now pink face. "How cute~!" "She's so flustered!" "Her hair is so pretty~! "Wonder what her quirk is?" Were a few you heard right away, making you smile nervously as your hands found your skirt again. "Calm down everyone, (L/N) you may take your seat in front of Mirio, Mirio raise your hand," a boy with bright blonde hair, stunning blue eyes and a warm smile greeted you as you made your way to your seat.

Nodding your head in thanks, you sat down and got out your flower covered notebook and sunflower pencil, beginning to take notes as the lesson began. A warm feeling creeping over your back, turning slightly to see the boy, Mirio, smiling at you with an inquiry gaze, head in his hands as he leaned in close. Flustering again, you quickly turned around hoping to have not been caught, but the same couldn't be said for the boy behind you, whose interest in you seemed to just grow more.

~

Outside break time seemed to come so fast yet so slow as you walked around, finding shade beneath a tree as you breathed in the fresh air, your body seeming to glow around you as the plants nearby leaned toward you, almost as if you were the sun itself. It was so peaceful and relaxing, true harmony as you let a smile grace your features. If only it could stay like this-

"HEY THERE!" A sudden voice cut through the air as you jumped, screaming in shock and falling backwards into the tree. "Oh gosh I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to frighten you, honest!" Opening your eyes, you glanced up to see Mirio, the boy from class in front of your with a smile still gracing his features. "(L/N) right? I'm Mirio Togata! Nice to meet you," he kept his smile up, holding a hand out to you to help you up. Accepting his hand, you stood up, trying to look around anywhere but him as your nerves came back again for the thousandth time.

"Uh, you alright there? Didn't knock any screws loose I hope?" He laughed, leaning in closer to you. The warmth that glowed from him seemed to rival the sun, and you couldn't ignore it any longer as you looked up at him, a small smile now reaching your face too. "He-Hello, it's nice to meet you too," your smile glowed back at him, just as radiant as his is.

"Hey I got a question for ya. Do you like Heros?" Mirio asked straightforward, wanting to get to know you better right of the bat. The question took you by surprise because, yes, you didn't just like Heros, you loved them. You simply nodded, nerves relaxing a little as a breeze blowed by. "Awesome! Say, you've gotta come meet my friends, we can talk about Heros until we go back inside! Oh, maybe we can even continue at lunch! If you wanna sit with us that is, maybe even after school. Wait you might be busy," he rambled off, suddenly excited it appeared to have a new friend.

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, your hand coming up to block your mouth to stop yourself since you didn't wanna come off as rude. "Sorry, got carried away a bit huh?" Mirio laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as his non wavering smile kept to his face. "It's okay, I don't mind," you answered back, (E/C) eyes meeting Mirios blue ones as you stared, perhaps longer than you should've.

The bell from the school filled the air, causing you to jump, the grass beneath your feet suddenly growing and towering over you and Mirio. "WOAH!" Mirio exclaimed, surprised at the sudden growth spurt of the grass. He looked at you with wide eyes, wondering if this was your quirks doing. It only made sense, seeing as how it was just you two around.

You blushed, hands to your skirt again as you looked down embarrassed. "Sorry, my quirk goes off if I have a sudden spike of emotion sometimes," you explained, glancing up at Mirio who could only grin at you wide eyed, "THATS SO COOL! Can you only manipulate grass? Or is it all nature? Just plants? You've gotta tell me more," he gushed, his hands clenched into fists, excitement pouring out of him.

You'd never seen someone so intrigued by your quirk before outside of your family. It caused a warm feeling in your stomach and chest, slowly pouring out into the rest of your body as you and Mirio exited the tall grass, now able to see the school yard and other kids who were walking inside to resume lessons.

"So what is your quirk? If you don't mind me asking," Mirio inquired, hands on hips and his warm smile on display as always. "I don't mind, uh to put it simply it's just a nature quirk, I-I can control any of plants around me, especially flowers. I really like flowers," you gushed back towards the end, a bright light in your eyes and a beautiful smile dawning your lips as you looked over to Mirio who could only gleam back too. "Thats so cool! You could definitely become an amazing Hero with that!" "Really?" "Definitely, come on let's go, you gotta meet my friend Tamaki Amajiki, he'll be so excited to meet you!" Mirio grabbed your hand and ran off back to the school, you dragging behind him and noticing how the sun bounced off him as if he were the sun itself. A smile rested upon your face as the warmth continued to spread across your body. In a way, it almost felt, Homey.

_________________________________________

"Hey Mirio?"

"Yeah (Y/N) what's up?"

"Can you promise me that we'll work together as Heros? I don't know what I'd do without you, Tamaki or Nejire,"

Mirio couldn't help but laugh at you, your young, first year of high school face becoming pink as you gazed upon your long time friend and crush. "Of course we'll work together! I couldn't think of anyone more fitting to be my Hero Partner," he posed, a big grin plastered on his face as he looked at you, both of you standing just outside the U.A gates.

"S-So you promise? Anything we do, we do together right? As a team?" You gushed, leaning in towards Mirio who nodded, "Always (Y/N) now come on, the guys won't wait for much longer. We gotta go.." he trailed off, leaning towards you to finish his call out. "Plus Ultra?" You laughed, "No! We gotta go fast! Seriously we gotta go, the train is due to to leave in ten minutes!" He realized, grabbing your hand and rushing off, the same warmth erupting through you again as your hands meet. You sighed contently, nothing could ruin this moment.

Until, we return to the present that is...

_________________________________________

"MIRIO!"

"FORGET ABOUT ME! GET ERI OUT OF HERE!"

"I WONT LEAVE YOU DAMMIT! WE PROMISED TO DO THIS TOGETHER!"

"I KNOW, BUT THIS IS BIGGER NOW! PLEASE (Y/N) JUST GET HER OUT!"

You could barely breathe as you stared at Mirio, his costume torn, his cape draped over Eri who couldn't even move she was so terrified. The blood from Mirio caused your heart to clench at the mere thought of him in pain.

"I WONT LEAVE YOU," You shouted back, leaping from the ledge and landing next to Eri who had tears flowing down her cheeks as she could only stare in fear and uncertainty to both of those who had hurt her and came to help her.

"Oh? A new player has come to join hm?" Chisaki Kai muttered, eyes roaming over your body as you shielded Eri from gaze, Mirio a few feet ahead and breathing heavily. "Ya know I would say if you weren't diseased you'd be very attractive, possibly worth studying with that quirk of yours, Antheia, but you must be cleansed," Chisaki muttered, hands on the ground again as he disassembled and reassembled at a mass rate, you grabbing Eri and dodging as Mirio tried his best to handle Chisaki, his quirk now gone unknown to you.

"Mirio! I'll fight, you take care of Eri," you cried out, nearing Mirio who both dodged and protected you and Eri. "As long as he threatens you, I'll fight," Mirio gritted his teeth, fed up with Chisaki and his twisted ways. Reaching into your pouch, you pulled out a few lavender seeds, throwing them out and activating your quirk, allowing the seeds to grow and blossom, their scent extra powerful to make those around fall asleep. Hoping to get it to Chisaki, you grabbed Mirio at the last second, hand sinched around his hand as you pulled him back a few feet, away from Chisaki who could only chuckle, "nice try, but not good enough," as he assembled a spike behind you, Mirio noticing last second and throwing his body weight to the side, causing your still clasped hands to swing you around, dodging it with Eri still wrapped in your arms, shaking.

Mirio could barely stand, nearly collapsing against you but tried to stay strong. 'I can't back down, not yet. Not until this disgusting man is down and out. I have to protect them,' Mirio thought, adrenaline running high as he glanced at you.

You were a warm becon that filled his life, he's never felt more real, more natural around anyone else but you. You make him want to be better, you make him want to push himself to be himself and no one else. The best he can be. Yet you're standing here, wanting to stand beside him like you've always done, but how can he let you do that knowing you can cost your life too. He wants to be selfish, hide you away from everyone so you won't get hurt. He knows what you're capable of, the power you hide from everyone not wanting to draw attention. Power you've only shown around him through trust and respect outside of school and training. Nows the time to show it to the world.

"(Y/N)" Mirio mumbled next to you, making you glance at him yet still wary of Chisaki. "Deku and Sir should be here soon, lets show Chisaki what we're made of until they get here," he grinned, the stupid grin of his that made tears well up your (E/C) eyes as you nodded, gently placing Eri down behind you, sending her a sweet and strong smile of your own.

What seemed to drag on for hours was only mere minutes of you and Mirio throwing blow after blow and receiving blow after blow from Chisaki. As long as he didn't get Eri you'd be fine. Even as blood dripped down your temple from where you were slammed down and your vision blurred, your only goal was to keep Eri and Mirio safe. Just as Mirios was to keep you and Eri safe.

The next few minutes seemed to blur, between Midoriya and Sir showing up. Your body trying to give out into Sirs hug, the last real hug you never knew you'd ever get from him. The memories blurring as you and Mirio trudged out with Eri in tow. Before you could register what happened, your body dropped to the ground, Eri and Mirios faces of concern being the last you see before darkness consumes.

~~~

Images blur together as you come out of unconsciousness. The strong scent of disinfectant spray and rubbing alcohol makes its way to you, the smell both welcoming and alarming. Opening your eyes you notice Aizawa-Sensei by the door, you slowing attempting to sit up as he walks in, "Aizawa- Sensei! What's going on? Where's Mirio? Eri? Is everyone alright," you gushed out, head suddenly pounding, causing you to groan and grab your head. "Take it easy (L/N), it's alright. You're safe, everyone's safe now," he calmed you down, your head still pounding as you nodded with the new information. "So then, Midoriya, Sir Nighteye, they got Chisaki? Are they recovering from their wounds too?" You asked, looking up at him with (E/C) eyes showing hope that everything can now return to normal once everyone's healed. Yet, as Aizawa looks else where you can't help but ask, "What's wrong? Everyone is okay right?" The words that come out of his mouth next has you up, IVs ripped out as you ran out the room, Aizawa chasing after you.

~~~

Heart pounding in your head, you turn a corner, tripping over your feet sending you tumbling to the ground. Yet you got back up and kept running, catching a green haired boy, also known as Izumi Midoriya, by surprise as you ran up. "Midoriya! Please tell me its not true," you cry, tears welling up as you clench his hands.

He could only stare back at you, his own tears glimmering into his lash line too. "I'm so sorry (L/N)-Senpai, but..S-Sir Nighteye is...is," he couldn't finish the sentence, choking back a sob as your tears run down your face. Letting go of his hands you bring yours to your face, hoping to cover up your pitiful sobs that seem to echo the now quiet hallway. "W-Wheres Mirio?" You choked out, Aizawa now caught up with you. His hand softly grabs your shoulder, curling his arm and bringing you into his chest. He may not be a very affectionate man, but you were one of his more favorite students. Seeing you like this broke his heart. "Lets go this way (L/N). It'll be okay," he mumbled into your hair as he gave your shoulder a squeeze, leading you down the hallway away from Midoriya who was now joined by All Might.

Midoriya and All Might could only stare in sadness as they watched one of the Top 4 students of UA break down. First Mirio as he witnessed Sir Nighteyes passing in person, and now you as you woke up too late to say goodbye and having to realize that you'll never get the chance like they did.

~~~

Aizawa knocked on the hospital door, a silence followed for a few seconds before a soft "Come in," was heard from inside. Opening the door Aizawa saw Mirio sitting on his hospital bed, a smile plastered to his face. "Whats up Eraserhead?" He questioned, almost as if his whole life didn't go up in flames merely 12 hours ago. "Mirio, are you up for a visitor? This person could really use your help right now," Aizawa inquired, hoping that you two could heal eachother like you always seemed to do.

"Sure, who is it?" Mirio asked, head tilt. Aizawa didn't answer, merely turning his head to the doorway where you stood, hospital gown and all. Your eyes red from tears that had slowed down but still hadn't stopped yet.

Mirios face grew concerned, he stood up the best he could and hobbled over to you. Resching his hands out he pulled you into his chest. Your heart breaking all over again as you sobbed into his chest, Mirio tightening his arms around you. Aizawa simply nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

"It'll be alright, (Y/N). We'll be okay, I promise," Mirio whispered in your ear, your sobs into his chest becoming quiet as he soothed you. "Sir Njghteye deserved so much more," you whimpered out, looking up at Mirio with glossy eyes that pulled at his heart strings. "I know, but we'll get better from here on out," he smiled, his voice soft instead of its usual loud and booming self. "Why are you holding it in Mirio?" You questioned, seeing right through his facade as he tensed. "I've cried my tears, you can let yours out with me it's alright," he promised, yet you could see the guilt, remorse, hurt and pain swirling inside.

You guided him over to the bed, sitting down with him as you took his hands into yours. "You may have cried but that doesn't mean you healed that quick, Mirio," you softly spoke, hand reaching up to graze his cheek softly and cup it. He could only watch mesmerized by your beauty as the morning sun beamed through the window, giving you an even more Homely glow than before. "You can fool them Mirio, but not me,"

His eyes suddenly had a pressure upon them and he couldn't help but clench his fists and eyes in anger and distrsught as he yelled out suddenly in a sob. The grief of not being strong enough to save Sir hitting him at once. The pain of knowing he lost his quirk surrounding his body, becoming heavy. The sudden empty feeling of knowing all those years were sudden lost in a sea and he was drowning.

Your hand caught him by surprise as he looked up, your smile soft and glowing, yet also full of sadness. "Don't hold it up inside. We can face it together," You spoke, his body suddenly tackling you down onto the bed as you gasped, cheeks a soft pink. As he shook, quiet tears pouring down his face he whimpered to you, "(Y/N)..Thank you...Thank you for letting me show my true feelings with you,"

You smiled, hands running through his hair. A soft kiss was placed upon his forehead as he looked up shocked, yet you could only giggle at his pink face. "I know it's not the time, but maybe in a while you'll let me voice my true self too?" You questioned, knowing that the boy healing could maybe have something to be the light at the end of his tunnel. His smile, warm and Homey filled the room again, this time authentic through and through. "Only if you let me voice mine too,"

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Okay sooo. What did yall think? Yes, no? Maybe so? It's been years since I've written anything to please be nice with the critiques 😭🥰 Also can I just say that Mirio is Daddy-O? Like oh my gooddnneesssssss. Also Antheia is Greek for Flower or Blossom so that was your hero name.