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@peculiarinsomniac
♤ You are important, never forget that!
♤ Occassionally active on this blog, I come and go
♤ Not a spoiler-free multi-fandom blog
♤ Mostly reblogging things about My Hero Academia, Genshin Impact, random (serious) stuff
♤ Ocassionally, Attack on Titan (mostly about Levi), Tokyo Revengers (Manjiro Sano), Criminal Minds (Spencer Reid) and other things when I feel like them
♤ Not nsfw-free
♤ Last updated: March 16th, 2025
♤ Header and Profile Picture from Genshin Impact
★ 【Dugar】 「 World peace depends on this date! 🌏🌷 」 ✔ republished w/permission ☆ follow our YT interview show!
𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜
synopsis: he didn’t mean for this to happen. when he became a pro hero he told himself he wouldn’t get into a relationship. he didn’t want to deal with the press, he didn’t want his girlfriend or him to be stalked, or put her in danger with the villains and what not. but that promise went downhill when he met you, he fell for you hard and fast. you heard his concerns about getting into a relationship but you didn’t care because you liked him just as much. so you both have been in a secret relationship for about 2 years and 3 months…until one day they got caught. pairing: pro hero touya todoroki x f!reader a/n: this is just a one shot but it's pretty long whoopsie. i was pretty invested but it might not make sense considering i didn't proofread lol. wc: 9.3k
You hear the door slam open and instinctively look up. Touya storms in, eyes wide and heart racing, and you can immediately tell something’s wrong. You stand, startled, before you can even speak, and he’s at your side in an instant, cupping your face in his hands.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right? Did you leave the house? Were you followed?” His questions tumble out faster than you can process, eyes scanning you from head to toe for any sign of danger.
“What--” you start, but he interrupts, pulling you into his chest. One hand rests protectively on the back of your head, the other wrapped around your back. Touya presses soft, frantic kisses to the top of your head, mumbling words too fast to make out. Your mind spins, struggling to keep up with his panic.
“Slow down. What’s wrong?” you ask, looking up at him with concern.
He looks at you for a second wondering why you’re not freaking out either then it hits him.
You don’t know yet.
“Oh, baby” He murmurs looking at the confusion sketched into your face. He swallows, as if fighting the words, then pulls back slightly. One hand’s on your shoulder as if he’s trying to ground you before he gives you the news…or ground himself at this point. He pulls out his phone, his hand trembling as he reveals the screen to you.
One the screen is an article headline screaming: TOUYA TODOROKI SPOTTED KISSING A MYSTERIOUS GIRL.
Below that was a photo of you two mid-kiss.
The story of how you two met was something like out of one of those cheesy romantic comedies you secretly indulge in. Touya was on patrol, walking down the streets looking for any suspicious behavior going on. It was a slow day, so there weren’t any crimes to stop. He was casually sipping his coffee, enjoying the warmth of the day. You had just finished your job and were walking on the same sidewalk coming from the other side.
You were scrolling on your phone not paying attention, when you accidently bumped into the pro hero and spilled the drink all over his hero uniform. You looked at the mess wide eyed and embarrassed, heat rising to your cheeks as you stumble out an apology.
“Oh my--I’m so sorry, I was on my phone I should’ve been watching where I was going I can--” As you rambled on, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. He’d never been one to fall for a girl so quickly but you…you were the exception.
He interrupted you, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal,” he gave her a gentle smile, when did he get this soft?
“Are you sure I can pay for whatever--” he cuts you off again with a soft chuckle at how flustered you're getting over something as small as spilt coffee.
“I promise, it’s fine,” he says, lifting a hand slightly as if to calm you down. “Comes with the job. I’ve dealt with worse than coffee.”
You blink up at him, still a little panicked, still a little embarrassed. Up close, he’s…a lot. Taller than you expected. Warmer, too. Not nearly as intimidating as the headlines make him seem.
Still, guilt twists in your chest. “At least let me get you a new drink or something. I feel really bad.”
Touya pauses at that, something flickering in his expression. He could just walk away. He should just walk away. That’s what he always does--no attachments, no unnecessary interactions.
But then there’s you. Standing there awkwardly, hands hovering in the air unsure of what to do. Looking up at him, him looking down at you. You’re looking at him like you genuinely care.
“...Alright,” he says after a second, surprising even himself. He holds up one finger, “One drink.’
Your face immediately brightens, relief washing over your features. “Really? Okay--there’s a cafe right there.” You gesture behind you, already starting to walk before he can change his mind.
He follows without thinking too hard about it.
The cafe was small and warm, the kind of place that smells like fresh pastries and coffee beans. You order quickly, insisting on paying despite his half-hearted protests, and the two of you end up sitting across from each other in a quiet corner.
There’s a brief moment of silence.
You fidget slightly, then laugh under your breath. “This is…probably not how you expected your patrol to go.”
Touya leans back in his chair, arms loosely crossed, but his eyes stay on you. “Not exactly,” he admits. Another pause. Not uncomfortable--just…new.
You glance at him, then away, then back again. “I’m really sorry again. For earlier.”
“You’ve apologized like five times already,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice now.
“...I have not.”
“You have.”
You narrow your eyes at him “Okay, maybe I did.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, and something about the sound makes your chest feel warm. For a second, neither of you says anything. You just…look at each other.
Then he speaks, a little more casually this time. “What’s your name?”
You tell him.
He repeats it softly, like he’s committing it to memory. “I’m Touya.”
“I know,” you smile.
He huffs lightly at that. “Right.”
Time passes quicker than either of you expects. Conversation comes easier than it should--about small things at first, then a little more. Your job, his patrols, random stories, dumb jokes.
At some point, Touya realizes he hasn’t checked his surroundings in a while.
At some point, you realize you don’t want this to end yet.
Eventually, though, reality creeps back in. Touya glances toward the window then back at you, “I should get going,” he says, though there’s a slight hesitation in his voice.
“Oh--yeah. Of course.” You nod, trying to ignore the small pang of disappointment. “Duty calls, right?”
He stands, but doesn’t immediately leave. Instead, he looks down at you with something unreadable in his expression. Then before he can overthink it, “Can I see you again?” he spouts. The question catches even him off guard.
Your eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across your face before it softens into something warmer. “I’d like that.”
Touya exhales, almost like he didn’t realize he was holding his breath.”Good,” he says quietly.
You quickly scribble your number down on a napkin, sliding it across the table to him. His fingers brush yours for just a second when he takes it--brief, but enough to send a spark up your arm.
“I’ll call you,” he says, “Princess” he adds walking out of the cafe.
Your breath hitches, blush rising to your cheeks. A cheesy gentle smile grows as you watch him walk out of the cafe. As he walks out the cafe, Touya glances down at the napkin in his hand.
He wasn’t supposed to do this.
Wasn’t supposed to get involved.
Wasn’t supposed to want more.
And yet he did. You did too.
You both were aware of the risks you were taking when you got into a relationship.
Present day, after hearing the news about being revealed to the world, Touya watches your reaction carefully--almost too carefully. His eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, like he’s bracing himself, waiting for something. Waiting for you to get upset. To last out. To regret him.
His voice is barely steady. “I…I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was reckless…I shouldn’t have kissed you in public--I’m sorry. I never wanted---” his words break off abruptly as he pulls you into him, burying his face into your shoulder like he can’t even stand to finish the sentence. His grip tightens, almost desperate.
“I didn’t want you to be exposed…to be put in danger.”
For a moment, you just stand there, feeling the way he’s trembling slightly, the way his breath is uneven against your neck. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing gently, one hand coming up to the back of his head. “Hey…it’s okay. We knew the risks. It’s not your fault,” you murmur softly, brushing his hair back, trying to soothe him.
He shudders in your arms, his voice muffled but heavy with guilty, “But…I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve kept you safe…”
“You’re my girl, my sweetheart. I didn’t want you getting caught up in my work, the stress of it all,” he kissed your neck with a silent apology.
You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands still resting on him, grounding him. “You’ve always kept me safe,” you reply softly, tilting your chin up so he has no choice but to meet your eyes. “And I’m still here. I trust you.”
Touya blinks, swallowing hard, like your words hit deeper than he expected. For the first time, there’s the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, faint but it’s there. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fully disappear though, “You’re too good for me baby you know that?” You smile standing on your tip toes giving him a kiss. One sealing your commitment to him.
Once you break apart, Touya sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I just…I thought we were careful. I didn’t think anyone would catch us.”
You nudge him lightly, a soft attempt to ease the heaviness in the room, “Well…when it comes to you I’m shocked people haven’t found out sooner.”
A quiet, shaky chuckle leaves him, and he presses a small kiss to your forehead then rests his forehead against yours. “Il…I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs. “I’ll protect you…no matter what.”
And in that moment, despite the fear, despite the article still open and burning into your mind, you feel something stronger than anything else--Touya’s heart, raw and real and completely yours.
In the middle of the night, when you’re fast asleep, Touya steps out onto the balcony. He needed air, and some time to think. He hated that he brought you in the middle of all of this. He rubs his hands over his face, looking at the city spread across the landscape. The lights of a few store signs shining across his face. A few cars drove by, a couple people laughing from their night out, he didn’t know whether he wished that photo was never taken…or if he didn’t drag you in his mess all together.
He exhaled slowly watching his breath fly through the cold air. He took out a pack of cigarettes, taking the stick out and putting it between his teeth. He lifts his pinky towards the end of the stick, the blue flame lighting the cigarette charring the end. He inhales letting the heat stick to his lungs before exhaling watching the whitish grey smoke float through the sky.
He was consumed by his thoughts when the silence was interrupted by the loud shrill of his phone. He takes his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants checking the caller id.
Great. His father.
He picked up the phone holding it up to his ear expecting a lecture about being careless and a whole bunch about responsibility.
As if he didn’t feel shitty enough.
“Hello?” His voice is raspy, still holding the cigarette to his lips. He keeps his voice low not wanting to wake you up.
“Touya.”
“Dad.”
“I saw the news,”
“You and everyone else,” his voice is bitter, he scoffs at the thought of everyone now knowing their personal business. It pisses him off like nothing else.
“Touya you know--”
“Yes dad, I know. I was irresponsible and careless and I shouldn’t have taken her out in public let alone get involved in the first place,” Touya’s on edge, he squeezes the cigarette between his fingers harder than he should, “I know the agency is gonna be pissed but I’m not leaving her,”
He felt guilty for even considering it, thinking it would let you leave a better life. But the way you looked at him earlier, your eyes big with determination, the way you clutched onto him like a lifeline. You need him just as much as he needs you.
“Forget about the agency,” Endeavor says, and for the first time Touya noticed how his tone is more sympathetic than angry. “Your relationship is out there now there’s nothing that can change that.”
Oh boy does he know that.
“But you can change the narrative,”
That grabs Touya’s attention. He goes silent as the cigarette is put out now, long forgotten.
“Your number priority should be making sure that girl doesn’t get any more backlash than she already is. I’ve read what’s online and it’s not looking pretty,” Touya’s jaw tightens thinking about the potential things people could be saying. “You have a huge fan base, so people aren’t going to be taking this change lightly.”
“You need to be prepared for what’s to happen now. You can’t react no matter how bad you want to, I know how hot tempered you can be son,”
“I’m not--”
“Don’t lie.”
He shuts his mouth resting his cheek against the palm of his hand. His elbow is holding him up on the railing while the phone is held to his ear with his other hand.
“You’re my son, I know you have the tendency to push people away but I also know how strong you fight for people,” His dad continues, “But in this case you’re going to have to take a different approach. You can’t run head first into this.”
“Yeah I know, I just don’t know how to protect her from this,” Touya mutters, he hates showing vulnerability. He hates that he feels so weak, that he doesn’t know how to stop you from hearing the things people could be saying.
Endeavor sighs on the other side of the phone, “Be a shoulder for her to lean on. Just be calm, which I know is a difficult concept for you,” That earns a scoff from Touya. “How is she doing right now?”
Touya tilts his head up looking at the stars, his mind going through what happened a few hours ago. “She…didn’t freak out. She said that she doesn’t care and that she doesn’t plan on leaving.”
Endeavor grunts in approval, “Smart girl,” Touya closes his eyes letting out a breath. “More like idiotic,” he mutters.
That earns a short laugh from Endeavor, “Invite her to dinner soon,”
“Oh fuck no”
“C’mon I wanna meet the girl whose got my son wrapped around her finger--and whose brave enough to stay,”
“No way in hell am I bringing her over to you guys,”
“Your mother would love to meet her, in fact Fuyumi and Natsuo have been nonstop talking about it”
Touya groans, “Precisely the reason I’m protecting her,” The thought of Fuyumi and Natsuo bugging her with random questions is a day he never wanted to come.
“How long have you been keeping her from us anyways,”
“...Two years,” Touya mutters.
For a second he thought his phone died or something before Endeavor’s loud voice cut through the speaker again. “TWO YEARS!?”
Touya holds his phone away from his ear as Endeavor rambles about how Touya managed to keep a part of his life away from his family and how he wants to meet her right away.
“Fine, fine fine, One dinner--But I swear if any of you nutjobs ask her any wack questions I’ll--”
“Great, it’s a plan. Invite her over once you’ve gotten a hold of your situation,” Endeavor interrupts, pleased he got his way.
“And Touya? Keep a close eye on her, it’s not everyday a civilian gets exposed to the media for being in a relationship with a pro-hero,”
Touya sighs, “Yeah…I got it.”
They say bye to each other before ending the call. Touya shoves his phone back in the pocket of his sweatpants. The night air has gotten colder, he turns his head back thinking about you. Probably peacefully speaking, not knowing the chaos you’re about to endure.
The only thing he can do is hope he can protect you at least a little.
As the days went on you were getting more and more public attention. If you were going to groceries, there would be people holding their phones towards you not so subtly. Even when you were getting the mail, your neighbors would be giving you looks whispering to each other.
By the end of the week you went from a nobody to somebody…whether that’s a good thing or bad thing is up to the viewers interpretation.
Headlines, posts, videos---your face, your name, your life. You thought at first you wouldn’t care as much, the only thing that mattered was you and Touya’s relationship. But…you don't like having your name in articles, people you don’t even know trying to figure out every part of your life. It’s unnerving.
You didn’t say anything to Touya, he already feels guilty enough you couldn’t add on to that. But even through your silence, he could feel the weight this put on you.
It was late, the sky was black, stars peaking out, the city outside your window still hummed faintly, distinct traffic and the occasional voice drifting up, but inside your apartment, everything felt softer. Dim. Safe.
You sat curled up on the couch, legs tucked under a blanket, the TV playing something neither of you were actually watching. Touya sat behind you, back pressed into the corner of the couch, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you close---like if he loosened his grip, you might disappear. Your head was resting against the chest, his presence keeping you grounded.
Touya’s fingers moved slowly along your arm, tracing absentminded shapes into your skin. Circles, lines, something uneven---something mindless as his thoughts drifted farther away.
His hand pauses for a moment. “Princess...you okay?” he asks quietly.
The question is gentle, but there’s something heavier underneath it--like he’s been wanting to ask for a while and just now found the courage to.
You don’t answer right away, your fingers tighten slightly in his shirt. Touya notices immediately. His arm shifts just a little, pulling you closer without forcing anything. “Hey,” he murmurs against the top of your head, softer now. “You can tell me.”
You let out a slow breath, your gaze dropping to where his hand rests against you.
“I…” you start, then stop, your throat tightening slightly. His fingers are still against your arm completely now. His eyes drop down to your face watching your expression and listening to whatever you have to say.
“I don’t like it,” you admit quietly, the guilt seeking into your chest the moment you say the words out loud. Touya’s chest rises under you, a subtle, sharp inhale. You’re unable to look him in the eye, forcing yourself to continue.
“I don’t like people looking at me like that,” you continue, your voice small but steady. “Like they know me. Like I’m being dissected,” your hands curl a little tighter into his shirt.
Touya knows the feeling all too well, being put under the eyes of the public is not for everyone. Hell, he doesn’t like being under the spotlight either but he endures it for the sake of being a pro hero.
But he knows how shy and awkward you can be around randoms--it’s one of the reasons he fell so deeply in love with you. The arm around your waist tightens slightly as if he’s protecting you, his chin rests on your shoulder as he listens to your feelings. The breath warm against your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to your pulse point.
“I read some of it,” you add, almost like you shouldn’t have. That. That catches Touya’s attention immediately, and you can tell by the way his entire body tenses beneath you.
“...What?” You can hear the shift in his voice immediately--low, controlled. He knows what the media does to people, he knows how bad people’s self-esteem can get. He wanted to protect you from that part of his life, he gently cards his fingers through your hair coaxing you to look at him.
“Baby, what did you read?” His voice is soft, like he’s trying to coax the answer out of you.
“It doesn’t matter--”
“It matters to me.” There’s an edge there now, the way he’s still running his fingers through your hair gently tells you it’s not because of you. He remembers what his dad told him, about how what people are saying is not pretty.
He didn’t even bother reading it knowing he would get pissed and hunt down whoever wrote such terrible things about his girl. But it’s not hard to imagine what was on there. He knows how aggressive fans can be. “You can tell me sweetheart,”
You hesitate then look at him, “Some of it was nice,” you slowly start making yourself continue, “But…not all of it.”
You look away for a second, biting your lip as you figure out how to put it in words. He squeezes your hand a little letting you know he’s not going anywhere.
“People say I’m a distraction. That I’m not good enough. That I’m just gonna get in your way.” You let out a shaky sigh trying to block those comments out of your head but they live their rent free.
He notices the tension on your face and presses a kiss to your cheek, cupping your face so you can look at him and only him. He kisses your nose, the corners of your mouth, your forehead, painting your face with soft gentle kisses.
You’ve made him such a big softie for you.
He pulls back a little, his eyes filled with determination. Determination to get you to understand that you are nothing but perfect to him. That you are his. He hated the media for trying to meddle in the relationship, if he could light them all on fire he would.
“Listen to me, you’re not a distraction. You never were. You make me better in every way possible, I never knew I could fall so deeply in love. I. Love. You.” he emphasizes each word making sure they imprint in your brain washing away any insecurities the media implanted in your head.
Your eyes are glassy, the self-doubt lingering in those beautiful eyes of yours. He hated how his life affected you, you were something precious to him and he refused to let something as cruel as the paparazzi damage you…he couldn’t even fathom the thought of villains thinking they could touch you. You watch his expression how anger still lingers but there’s also something else there. Guilt.
“...I did this to you,” he murmurs. Your brows pull together immediately, shaking your head.
“No, you didn’t.”
“If I had just--kept my distance, I told myself I didn’t want to drag you into this especially not you,” he rubs a hand over his face, his mind going through different ‘what-if’ scenarios. What would your life look like if he had just left you alone? If he didn’t let you buy him that one drink?
You felt the tension in his body, your hand gently rubbing his arm reeling him back from whatever spiral he’s going through now. The dark circles under his eyes become more visible to you now, “I chose this,”
That gets him to look at you, really look at you. The cute little furrow in your brows when you're determined to do something. In this case, you’re determined to get him to see how he’s brought nothing but warmth and love in your life. How you never truly understood what being safe and cared for was like before him.
“I knew who you were,” you continue, softer now but no less sure. “I knew what could happen. And I still said yes. And I don’t regret it one bit,”
You turn your entire body towards him, legs tucked underneath. Even though he was still feeling mad at himself, he was having a hard time not laughing seeing as you looked cute with that pout on your face, the pure feeling of love and need was consuming him entirely.
“I can’t imagine myself but anyone other than you, and I don’t want to. Does the internet freak me out a little? Yes it does,” that earns a breathy laugh from him, one that makes your heart flutter, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I want you. I want to be with you despite the risks and dangers. I made my decision and I’m sticking with it, so don’t take that choice away from me just because it got harder.”
Touya goes quiet. Really quiet. It was hard to read the look on his face. Was he mad? Did you go too far? Maybe you should’ve--
Your thoughts get cut off with the warm press of his lips against yours. You tense for just a second, caught off guard, before melting into it, your body responding before your mind can catch up. His lips move against yours slow and sweet, his hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your skin as he tilts your head back guiding you closer.
You clutch the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric to steady yourself, but it doesn’t help much. Not when he kisses you like that. You feel yourself give in completely, sinking into him until you’re practically melting in his lap, warmth spreading through you like you might just dissolve right there.
He smiles against your lips feeling how submissive you got for him. He takes it as the greenlight to slide his hand from your cheek to your waist guiding you up until you're straddling his lap. The movement is smooth, your lips never breaking. When you finally pull away for air, your face stays close, your breaths mingling together--warm, uneven and full of heat. “Did I mention,” he murmurs softly, his voice brushing against your lips, “how completely in love with you I am?”
His eyes lift to meet yours, you part your lips slightly taking in the moment. You're 90% sure he can hear how loud your heart is right now. He smiles, taking his finger tracing the part of your cheek where the prettiest blush appeared. He watches the way you react to every small touch, he leans his head forward letting the tips of your noses touch.
“They don’t get to decide who you are,” the words are barely louder than a whisper, “Or what you mean to me.”
Your lips curve just slightly, that small bit of affection was enough to make his heart skip a beat. “And what do I mean to you?”
“...Everything,” he admits. His turquoise eyes looking at you as if he could see your soul, making your heart stutter. You’re the only thing that exists in this moment…in any moment really.
You let out a small breath, your hands sliding up from his shoulders to the back of his neck, fingers threading lightly into his snow like hair. “You’re really unfair, you know that?” you murmur softly, a hint of breathless amusement in your voice.
His brow lifts just slightly, his small smile transforming into a smirk. “How?”
“I can’t respond when you say things like that,” you gave him a small push to his shoulder playfully which earned a quiet, warm laugh from him.
“Not my fault,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, taking in your perfect face. The more prominent blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes glimmer is the dim lit room. “You love it.”
You roll your eyes just a little, but the smile on your lips gives you away.
Before you can respond he presses a small kiss to your nose, then back to your lips. Slower this time. As if he’s trying to communicate a secret only you can know. One hand stays firm on your hip, grounding you against him, while the other slides to the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair, holding you there like he doesn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.
You lean into him fully this time, no hesitation, no tension left in your body. Just warmth, and him, and the steady way his thumb brushes against your side like he’s reminding himself you’re still here. That it’s just you and him at this moment.
When you finally pull back again, it’s slower, reluctant. Your forehead rests against his, your eyes still half-lidded, “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper softly.
He smiles, adjusting himself and you so that you’re tucked against him. He traces patterns along your back, you close your eyes melting against the feeling.
You loved moments like this, where you can just exist together in silence. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering longer than they should.
“My sweet girl,” he mumbles against your head.
A couple of weeks had passed by and the attention had not left you and Touya. If anything it grew. There were heavy debates from fans, fangirls who weren’t too pleased, they acted like you took him away from them. As if they had a chance to begin with. There were news reporters watching Touya’s every move, meaning one slip up from him and the media would turn on you--blame you for being a distraction of some sort.
You got paranoid walking home from work, Touya insisted he drive you but you didn’t want to put that burden on him. After hours of back and forth he gave in to your wish and let you walk.
So now here you were, the sky was pitch black with barely any stars peeking through. The glow of the moon shone across your face, you crossed your arms clutching onto your sleeves when you felt a chill run down your spine. Whether that was from the chill of the night or the feeling of paranoia you couldn’t tell.
But then that’s when you heard it.
Footsteps. Slow but menacing.
Your breath hitched almost instantly, your body going rigid for just a second before picking up the pace, turning a random corner. You thought that was smart considering you didn’t want to lead whoever this was straight to your place.
The street was darker and more narrow. The flickering streetlight above buzzed faintly, casting uneven shadows across the ground. For a moment, the footsteps thought. For a moment, you thought you were safe. You slowed slightly, your breath uneven as you listened.
Nothing. Just silence. Maybe you were overthinking it.
You took one step forward when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist pulling you harsh and rough. You gasped, instinctively trying to pull back, your heart slamming painfully against your chest.
“Got you.” The voice was low. Dangerous. Terrifying. Your back hits a hard chest, your breathing uneven as panic surges through you, adrenaline all at once as you struggle, twisting your arm, trying to break free. The man was in all black, the top half of his face was hard to see because it was covered by his hood. He had this darkness around him that made your skin crawl with goosebumps.
“Let go of me!” you shriek, loud enough hoping that some bypasser could hear. His grip on you tightened causing your heart to race faster.
“You’re prettier up close,” he muttered, his breath tickling your ear in a not so pleasant way. You tried to put some distance between your bodies but his unfaltering grip made it difficult. Your stomach dropped as your mind was being consumed with fear.
You shoved against him, your free hand pushing at his chest, trying to create space but he barely budged. “Stop--!”
“No, no,” he cut in, shifting as he tried to pull you closer. “Don’t make this difficult. I just need you to cooperate for a bit. He’ll come running once he realizes you’re gone.”
Your breath stuttered. Touya. This creep is using you to lure your boyfriend out.
Adrenaline surged at the thought making you react without thinking--bringing your knee up sharply, catching him off guard just enough for his grip to loosen. You ripped your arm free and stumbled back, turning to run…unfortunately he was faster.
His hand caught the back of your jacket, yanking you back hard enough to make you lose your footing. You hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. You tried to push yourself up but your vision was a bit blurry from how hard your head hit the ground. Before you could recover, he was already there again.
“Not so fast,” the creep muttered, crouching down, reaching for you. You scrambled back, heart racing, vision still messed up, palms scraping against the pavement as you tried to put distance between you.
“Stay away from me!” your voice was shaky but you didn’t stop fighting. You tried to grab your purse but somewhere between the chaos it landed a few feet away from you.
You twisted again as his hand closed around your ankle this time, dragging you back. Your legs scraped against the pavement leaving red marks. Panic clawed its way up your throat.
No…no no no no.
You kicked out hard, connecting with something, you weren’t sure if it was his arm or his shoulder but you didn’t care, the kick was hard enough that it made him hiss and loosen his grip for a second. You crawled back again, forcing yourself up, trying to run when he snapped and grabbed your wrist. He pulled you toward him with force this time.
“Stop moving!” you felt dizzy between the pure fear, your head still messed up from earlier, and trying to fight for your life. Your balance gave out, and suddenly you were too close. His grip tightened painfully leaving bluish purple bruises on your wrists. “You don’t get it,” he said, breath uneven, his devious eyes sharp in the dim light. “This isn’t about you. It’s about him.”
Your chest heaved with panic and anger mixing as you struggled against him. “I’m not helping you--”
“You don’t have a choice.”
In that moment you realized there was no way you could get out. You just thought about Touya to keep the panic at bay. You missed Touya, you needed him. You wanted his presence, his comfort, his reassuring words. The way he’d hold you tight and press kisses across your face. You hated yourself for not letting him drive you, you were so stupid and naive. Tears stung your eyes as you thought about everything you regretted and wished for in that moment. But you refused to let this bastard see you break.
Where is he?
Just as that thought rang in your mind the grip on your wrist vanished. A flash of blue flames slammed into the man, sending him flying back, his body hitting the pavement with a sickening thud. The creep coughed violently, his outfit slightly charred, his ugly face more visible now.
Your vision of the man was blocked when Touya stood between you and him, his back was to your shoulders tense, blue flames flickering faintly along his arms, casting a low blue glow against the dark street.
He was in full pro hero mode now it was a side of him you’d never seen before. He was controlled and furious, it must be terrifying being on the other side of that glare of his. The man groaned, trying to push himself up, “Took you long enough,” he groaned.
“Stay down,” Touya warned, taking one menacing step forward. The man didn’t listen, he lunged forward but Touya moved faster. The fight was over in seconds, it wasn’t messy. Touya had kicked and punched him multiple times dodging whatever attacks the man threw at him swiftly. Until one swollen eye and bloody nose later, the creep realized he was outmatched and ran in the opposite direction.
He was about to take a step forward when he remembered the shaking girl behind him. He turned around looking at you on the floor, hot tears started falling from your eyes, your breathing uneven. In a split second he crosses the distance crouching down in front of you.
“Hey, hey, hey baby,” his hands cupped both your cheeks, his thumb swiping away as each tear fell down. “You’re okay, you’re safe. It’s just me and you now,”
You sniffled, your throat closing up as you tried to conjure up any sort of sentence. He could see your struggle and immediately pulled you in his chest. Touya could feel the tears staining his shirt, his hand cradled the back of your skull holding you tight but delicately. His other hand rubbed your back soothingly, “I’ve got you, let it out sweetheart, you’re alright,” his voice was calm despite the basket of feelings he had right now.
You nodded against him, pressing your face further into his chest, your fingers clutching at his shirt.
“My brave girl,” he pressed a couple kisses to the top of your head, his movement never faltering.
“I tried to--” your voice was shaky, the words coming out strangled “I tried to get away--”
“I know,” he said quickly, he gently removed your face from his chest tilting your head to look at him. Your eyes were glassy, still filled with unshed tears. He kissed your eye lids, the press of his lips were soft and familiar. Just like you wished. “You did so good, baby I’m so proud of you,”
You winced, holding the back of your head which was still paining from earlier. Touya noticed immediately, removing your hand and replacing it with his gently messaging the part that hurts. That’s when he took in your appearance. The bruise on your wrist, the red scrapes on your legs. His eyes were filled with anger but he forced himself to hold back for your sake.
“Fuck,” his hand gently traces all the marks, “I’m gonna find that guy and he’ll never--” he pauses when he hears you wince, and immediately softens up. It’s kind of pathetic how you got him wrapped around your finger.
He brushed your hair out of your face smooshing your cheeks together, gosh you're so darn cute even with your eyes puffy and red, your cheeks silently damp from the tears, eye lashes clumped together and glossy. Your adorable nose was a cute shade of red too.
“Don’t cry sweet girl. I hate seeing you cry,” he mutters, smooshing your cheeks together, after a moment he swoops one arm under your legs and the other cradling your back. “Let’s get you home,”
He doesn’t let go for even a second carrying you all the way. Not even when he steps into your apartment. He gently sets you down on the crouch leaving the room for less than 30 seconds to grab a first aid kit.
You’re still shaking a little thinking about the events from earlier, your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of your clothes, your mind replaying everything in flashes you can’t quite control. The footsteps. The grip. The fear.
You barely have time to look up before Touya is back, kneeling in front of you again, the first aid kit already open beside him. His movements are quick but careful. He’s done this on himself a million times before.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly, his hand coming up to rest against your knee, grounding. “Look at me.”
Your eyes flicker up to his, still glass, still unfocused around the edges.
The corners of his lips turn up a bit when he fully sees your face, “There you go,” he says gently, brushing his thumb just under your eye. “Stay with me, yeah? You nod, barely. His expression softens even more at that. “Good girl.”
He reaches for your wrist first, his fingers light as he turns it over, examining the forming bruise. His jaw tightens for just a second but he reins it in quickly, forcing his touch to stay gentle as he dabs at the area. You flinch at the sting of the rubbing alcohol.
“I know, I know,” he murmurs immediately, his other hand coming up to steady yours. “I’ve got you baby. I’m gonna be gentle, okay?”
His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and grounding you again before he continues. The room is quiet except for your uneven breathing and the soft sounds of him working.
“You scared me,” he says after a moment. His voice is quiet but not in an angry way…just heavy.
You blink, your gaze dropping slightly. “...I’m sorry.”
“No.” It comes out firmer than anything he’s said so far. Your eyes snap back up to him. “Don’t apologize,” he says, softer now, but no less serious. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
There’s a short pause, the silence doesn’t linger for long.
“...But you are an idiot.” he grumbles. Your lips part slightly in surprise. Touya exhales through his nose, shaking his head just a little, his hand still gently holding yours.
“I told you I didn’t like you walking alone,” he mutters, not looking at you for a second as he grabs a clean cloth. “Not because I don’t trust you--but because I don’t trust everyone else. All things considering,”
There’s no anger in the way he says it, just fear that hasn’t fully left him yet. His hand comes up to your cheek again, tilting your face toward him so you can’t look away.
“From now on,” he says quietly, his voice steady and unwavering, “I’m driving you. To work. From work. Everywhere….for the time being,” he adds.
You open your mouth to argue--out of habit more than anything. But memories from tonight fill your head, the lingering free creeping back in. You don’t argue. Instead, your shoulders drop slightly, and you nod. “...Okay.”
His body is relieved of tension after hearing that, letting out a relieved breath. A part of him was worried you would keep arguing because you were stubborn like that. But seeing as you were all shaken up from today’s events he’s more than happy to accept your acceptance.
“Good,” he murmurs. His thumb brushes along your cheek again, slower this time. He finishes cleaning up the scrapes on your legs, his touch careful, deliberate. Like every small action is his way of making sure you’re still here. That you’re still okay. When he’s done, he sets the first aid kit aside and sits on the touch next to you. Shoulders brushing together, knees touching.
There’s a moment of silence, he looks at your side profile analyzing your expression. Mentally filling in the blanks your silence speaks. He doesn’t rush to comfort you, he gives you your own space. He waits for you to come to him if you need, one thing about Touya is he’ll always be by your side whether you need him or not but he never pushes you past your limit or overwhelms you. Sure he could be hardheaded and stubborn but that doesn’t change anything.
Touya just stays by your side, he hesitates at first but he lifts his hand a little gently brushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
“You did really good,” he whispers, soft enough that he wasn’t sure if you actually heard it or not. You rub your arms, a nervous tick he’s well aware of. His eyes dart down, watching your hands rub up and down your arm like you’re remembering you’re here with him and not back there.
“I was…” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. Get it together you’re fine. He can see your eyes forming glassy tears again and the way your eyebrows knit together tells him you’re mentally bereading yourself, “terrified.”
“I know,” he nods, “And despite that you still fought back. You’re braver than you think.”
Your breath hitches, you don’t make eye contact with him. His gaze softens when he watches you fight your own feelings. How you’re trying to act brave for his sake is cute but completely unnecessary.
Touya opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by hugging him. It threw him off guard, one second you were completely to yourself and the next your arm is wrapping around his waist, head pressed against his chest holding onto him as if he’ll disappear in the next 5 seconds.
He slowly wraps both his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head. He’s holding you as if you could break any moment. Like you’re something delicate and precious.
Well to Touya you are.
“My brave, sweet girl,” he whispers atop of your head, his warmth enveloping you protecting you from your own worries and fears. You let your tears fall, you don’t know whether it’s from the aftermath of everything that happened or the fact that Touya loves you and takes care of you like no one you’ve ever met.
Touya feels his shirt dampening, your tears sinking into the fabric. You don’t make a sound, just silently crying and shaking in his arms. He doesn’t push you to talk about anything, just rubs your back; a reminder that he’s here and he’ll always be here.
“Shhh…shhh you’re okay baby, I’m here, no one’s touching you again,” he reassures you with his hand carding through your hair. “I love you so much. More than you know.” You muffle a small cry against his shirt, the small sound piercing his heart worse than any villain could.
Your fingers tighten slightly in his shirt. A few minutes pass…or maybe longer, it’s hard to tell. You’re not shaking anymore, the tears have stopped falling. He keeps you where you are, only letting you move when you want to move.
“I’m gonna fix this,”
“What?” Your voice is hoarse. You look up at him, tilting your head. What did he mean by fixing this? It's not like he can erase the photo from the internet or everyone’s minds?
He shifts the two of you so that he’s laying down on the couch with his head on the arm rest and your body laying on top of his.
His arm wraps around you tightly, protective but gentle, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers gently. He looks at your adorably confused face pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Trust me,” Touya doesn’t go into detail, instead he just presses a soft kiss to your forehead then each of your damp cheeks. He’s met with the salty and cold taste of your tears but he doesn’t care. Because all that matters is that you’re in his arms.
It’s been a few days since the incident happened, you decided to email your boss and tell him you’ll be working from home from now on or at least until everything dies down a bit. You didn’t want to burden Touya with the stress of driving you back and forth and you didn’t want another incident to happen again.
Touya’s been barely over since then as well, he’s reassured you multiple times that he’s not avoiding you or anything…and that he loves you which makes you embarrassingly sappy every time.
You’ve never had any reason to doubt Touya and you figured with everything going on it was probably a good idea to keep his distance from you, you didn’t want to put him in danger after all.
Your apartment is quiet, the smell of your morning coffee lingering in the air, the afternoon sun shining in through the blinds creating lines across the couch you’re sprawled across. A blanket is bunched around your legs, one hand holding a mug that’s gone slightly cold. You grab the remote flipping through different channels to pass time.
The channels switch from some cheesy Hallmark movie, to some animal documentary, to Touya, to--
Hold on.
You frantically flip back to the last channel, fumbling with the remote clicking the button until you landed back on the channel.
You see Touya, you’re Touya, on your tv with a microphone in his hand, paparazzi flashes and news reporters crowding around him.
What is he doing?
He takes a deep breath, waiting for the crown to hush down, before he starts speaking. You sit up straighter, putting the volume up, Touya hates press conferences. Says they’re an absolute waste of time and that the reporters twist everything he says anyway so what’s the point.
“Touya, is it true you’re in a relationship?”
“Who is she?”
“Is she a civilian?”
“Is she the reason your recent patrol reports show decreased focus?”
“Are villains targeting her?”
The voices overlap, chaotic, hungry for any sort of information to turn into gossip. Touya doesn’t react, not immediately, instead he lets them all talk, ask their questions. He lets them think they have the power here.
Touya thinks about what his father told him, about how he needs to change the narrative. This is his chance.
He slowly exhales before lifting the mic closer. He didn’t really have anything prepared, was planning on just saying whatever’s been on his mind for the past few weeks. Ever since that bad guy tried something with you, he knew he needed to do something to address the situation. He couldn’t let these people think they can touch you or say stuff about you and he wouldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m going to answer this once,” His voice is calm, scarily calm. It’s taking everything in him not to just use his fists instead of words, to just beat it into everyone’s minds that his love life is no one else’s concern. But no, he has to do this properly, he has to do this for you. Every reporter quiets almost instantly not because they respect him but because they can feel something shift.
Touya’s eyes sweep across the crowd, like he’s memorizing every face that’s about to twist his words later. This could either be beneficial or a waste of time.
“I’m not distracted,” he starts, “And I’m not unstable. My work hasn’t changed.”
A pause, he’s making sure his words are sinking into these reporter’s heads, “But my life has.”
Meanwhile, you’re on the edge of your seat, your fingers tighten slightly around the mug. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath, your eyes never leave his face. Watching how serious his expression is, the way his white hair sweeps across his forehead hanging just a little bit in front of his eyes, you notice how tense his muscles seem like he’s holding himself back.
A reporter steps forward again. “So the rumors are false? There is no girlfriend?”
Touya doesn’t answer right away, the second he answers this question the whole world will know who you are to him. As if most of the population doesn’t already know but everyone will have it confirmed. He taps his finger on the side of the mic gently, the parts of him soften when he thinks about you and your smile. Your personality, how sweet and considerate you are, the feel of your body against his. Everything about you makes him a better person, in both his hero work and his personal life.
The longer his silence takes the faster your heart races. He lowers his gaze for a fraction of a second, then looks up again. “No. I’m not single.”
That simple word let chaos run havoc among his audience. Flashes explode like lightning, voices crash into each other, questions turn sharper and louder. Each reporter wanted a piece of their new juicy gossip to write some fuckass article.
“Is it serious?”
“Is she in danger?”
“Is this a publicity issue?”
“Did the agency approve--”
Touya raises his hand slightly, and somehow they listen again. You’re now realizing how much power and control he has over the situation. How he’s making the narrative his.
Ours.
“I didn’t come here to entertain speculation,” he says, his voice is steady and professional but with a slight more edge now. “So I’ll make this clear.”
Here goes nothing, “I’ve been in a relationship for over two years.” Your breath catches so hard it hurts, your mind replaying all the awesome, romantic moments you two have had, the secrets you’ve kept from everyone.
And now it’s all out.
“And I kept it private because I knew exactly what would happen the moment people found out. Because I didn’t want her turned into a headline,” he takes a breath, choosing his words carefully, “And I didn’t want her to become something people debated instead of respected.”
Your vision blurs slightly before you even realize it.
“Is she the girl in the leaked photo?”
“Yes”
Simple. Confident.
“And before anyone decides to turn this into a story about distraction or weakness--don’t.”
He shifts his grip on the mic, “She is not a distraction from my work. She is not something I lose focus over. And she is not a mistake I made.”
His eyes lift slightly, beyond the reporters. He looks into the camera, but it’s like he’s looking at you through the screen. You don’t even register the tears rolling down your face, your knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the couch so hard.
“She’s a person who didn’t ask for any of this. And she still chose to stay with me knowing what my life looks like,” His eyes darted back down to the reporters giving each of them a warning glare, “So if anyone is looking for something to blame for my ‘lack of focus’--look at me.”
“I made the choice to love her. I made the choice to keep her safe. And I made the choice to finally stop pretending she doesn’t exist in my life just because it’s inconvenient for yours.”
Touya exhales slowly letting his voice drop lower, “I knew this would happen eventually,” he admits. “I just didn’t think it would happen like this…And I didn’t think I’d be okay with it.”
Your chest hurts now because you can hear how much he means every single word he says. How even though he hates attention he’s confessing his love for you to the entire world.
“I’ve spent my whole career keeping things out of reach,” he continues. “People. Attachments. Anything that could be used against me--or them.”
HIs fingers tighten slightly around the mic. “But I was wrong about one thing,”
His eyes flicker back up at the camera, “Some things are worth the risk.” You press your hand over your mouth without realizing, he’s speaking to you and you alone. You can see how his eyes are soft, the same ones reserved only for you.
A reporter asks another question, softer and more perceptive, “Are you worried this will affect your reputation?”
His eyes darted down to the reporter who asked, “No,” he answered. “Her being in my life is not a burden to my career or me. The only one responsible for my reputation is myself.”
Touya lowers the mic slightly, a signal that he’s wrapping up. “I’m done hiding it,”
“If you want to write about me, write the truth,” His eyes narrow slightly. “But leave her out of your stories.”
“And for those who think they can touch her just to get to me, think again” he warns.
Then he turns slightly, not fully away from them but enough like the conversation is over. Just as he made that small movement, reporters all step forward holding out their mics wanting just a few more pieces of information. Slight chatter starts up from among them.
He eyes the camera one more time, as if he can imagine you watching from your apartment. The corner of his lip lifts up a little as if saying:
I love you, I’m coming home.
taglist: @imjustawriter09 @catboygumi
a/n: i need to finish my spider-man yuji serious omg i completely forgot about it.
sparkle and line dividers by @pixopix
bow divider by @cursed-carmine
taglist is open please lmk if it's for a certain series or permanent i don't wanna annoy you guys lol.
Spelling mistakes? I guarantee neither of us saw those at 3:00 AM Monday Morning.
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again
(Source)
This comes one day after the archive changed their status to “Omega” for April Fools’ Day.
I'm cryingggg why is this shot literally that one big booba meme 💀
the thing about Soo-Won × Hak × Yona is that, even though Hak may not want it to be true, it really does work only because of Soo-Won’s deception and betrayal. Yona herself admits at one point that Soo-Won and Hak would have ended up working together but, without Il’s death, she’d have remained oblivious in her small world at the palace. only after Soo-Won destroyed their relationship did Yona, ‘with a different feeling’ than before, want to understand him. Hak also feels like he’s finally seeing the same view as Soo-Won only after suffering through it all. Soo-Won realises that he can’t abandon them only after he does so. it’s so delectable that they had to break it to make it work!! and that the love, even though it’s transformed, remains for them to come back to it.
Oh woah you made the gross misogynistic guy a fat bald sweaty man? Should we throw a party. Should we call everyone. Should we throw you into space with a cannon.
This is not staying in the tags because you're right and you should say it
Of Beasts and Bloodlines [Legolas/F!Reader]
A.N: So here it is…not my best work as I really have been struggling to write, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Also, I feel like this fic might make me have to fight furry allegations? Whatever lol. (said with jest)
Request: N/A
Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader
Summary: In the forests of Greenwood, the reader, a skin-changer and the last of her bloodline, struggles to survive. When she meets Legolas, the elven prince, a bond forms between them.
Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol. Also, if there are spelling mistakes, its bc i have the brain of a snail and am old and tired.
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: Fluff, hurt, comfort, angst, violence, gore, genocide, emotional distress, slight jealousy, nudity (not in a sex way lol), Thranduil lowkey losing his shit
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
How (Y/N) came to be the Greenwood resident mouse-catcher was, in truth, a rather unusual circumstance. See, mountain lions were meant to live in the mountains, or perhaps in the forests or the rocky canyons—not in stone castles. And for a while, she did live in the natural world. She hunted along Ered Mithrin, more commonly known as the Grey Mountains, which stretch along the north of Rhovanion. This is where she derived from. (Y/N) was born a shapeshifter, a skin-changer. There were few spread across Arda, not many known. As for (Y/N)’s lineage, it was nearly extinct.
(Y/N)’s kin had been systematically hunted and killed in a devastating purge, targeted for the power they possessed. The dark forces of Mordor feared their abilities to such an extent that they sought to eradicate them entirely. (Y/N) had been the most unfortunate among them all because she was the one that survived. She was the only member of her clan that escaped the brutal, bloody slaughter. She was unsure how, but she did. In the aftermath, she fled to the forests of Greenwood, where she remained for years, living in her animal form.
(Y/N) had tried to shift back to the human body she had once held, but the grief had stolen that capability from her. She simply couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.
During this time, the orcs found her once more. They had slipped into the elven forest and continued their relentless hunt for the skin-changers of Arda. She fought fiercely—clawing, biting, and tearing through them—but not without cost, as an arrow struck her shoulder. The wound weakened her, allowing the creatures to gain the upper hand.
She should have died. She should have joined her bloodline in the halls of the afterlife. Yet, it seemed Arda had other plans. A Greenwood elven patrol crossed the path of the battle and swiftly cut down the remaining orcs as if they were dead branches that had been snapped and cast aside.
(Y/N) had heard stories of the elves from her elders—enough to believe they could be trusted, to an extent that is.
Therefore, when one with hair the color of sunlight approached her as she lay on the forest floor, panting and bloodied, she did not attempt to kill him. Instead, she only hissed—warning him to back off. He obeyed that command. He raised his hands in surrender, and spoke to her in a soft, steady voice, assuring her he meant no harm. There was a quiet insistence in his words as he promised to see her healed, and, at last, she relented. Thus, she found herself carried in the arms of the Woodland Prince on the journey to the halls of Greenwood.
…
When the patrol arrived at the entrance of Greenwood’s castle doors, an elven man was there to greet them. An intricate crown rested upon his head and jewels, fastened by intricate rings, adorned his fingers. His silver and red robes cascaded around his body like a velvety river that poured out power and authority. (Y/N) knew he was the king, for this man couldn't be any other.
As the Prince stood before his father, with the injured mountain lion in his arms, Thranduil’s brows turned into a scowl.
“Legolas,” he stated directly. “What is that?”
The Prince adjusted the rather large and murderous cat in his arms. “A mountain lion.”
The King exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Legolas, I know what it is. Why is it in my halls?”
Innocently, Legolas looked at the creature. “She’s injured. She needs care.”
Thranduil huffed, for he was rather used to his son bringing in strays. “Fine, fine.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Just have that beast out as soon as it is healthy.”
The smallest hint of a grin traced across Legolas’ lips as he replied with a placating lie. “Of course, Adar (father).”
From the way the two elves interacted, (Y/N) could tell they were kin. She was perceptive enough to infer that they were likely father and son. Yet, before she could analyze them any further, she was carted off by the Prince—once again. They moved through the winding halls to the healing ward, where they were met with subtle, knowing glances: it appeared that Legolas bringing in wounded creatures was not an uncommon occurrence. The healers set to work, removing the arrow, cleaning the wound, applying a poultice, and binding it with careful precision, all while those wary, animal eyes remained fixed on the Prince.
…..
The next few days were unfamiliar and uneasy for (Y/N). At the healers’ cautious request, she remained in the Prince’s chambers, keeping to the space beneath his desk and rarely venturing out—only when he managed to coax her forward a few hesitant steps with a piece of raw meat. And so the days passed, her trust building gradually, one offering at a time.
Their first physical interaction that wasn’t laced with the necessity of wound care or bribery arose from cautious curiosity. It occurred in the midst of a bitter winter night, as a snowstorm howled across the land—wind rattling the windows and hail striking against the stone walls. A steady fire burned in the hearth of Legolas’ chambers as he lay in bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.
It was then that (Y/N) slipped out from beneath his desk, unprompted by any offering of food. She approached the edge of his bed and peered up at him. Sensing movement and the weight of her gaze, he opened his eyes and sat upright. He was surprised to find her watching him so intently.
Gently, Legolas patted the mattress. “Would you like to come up, pîn faer (little soul).
The mountain lion tilted her head at him, curious and calculating. After a moment, she leapt onto the bed, casting nervous glances in his direction. Still wary, she settled at the foot of the mattress, keeping him within her watch.
He longed to reach out and touch her, but he knew the choice had to be hers. So instead, he lay back and allowed his eyes to close, pretending that the injured creature was not there at all.
The nights that followed unfolded in a quiet progression, each one marked by a subtle shift. On the second night, (Y/N) returned to the Prince’s bed and settled at a cautious distance, her chin resting lightly upon his feet. On the third, she crept a little closer, her paws draping across his legs as she watched him with wary eyes. By the fourth night, her tail lay gently across his stomach, her presence no longer quite so hesitant. And on the fifth, she drew near his face. He remained still, watching her quietly, allowing her full control of the moment. She nudged him with her head, then pressed closer, rubbing her face against his as a low, steady purr filled the chamber.
A soft chuckle escaped Legolas. He reached up to scratch her face, inciting more vibrating hums from the gentle beast. “Hello, pîn faer (little soul),” he stated simply.
With each night that came after, as the months passed, the mountain lion curled into the Prince’s arms—warm, safe, and content.
…
As morning rays traveled through Legolas’ window, he pulled himself from the comfort of his bed and his mountain lion—earning a couple disgruntled grunts from the creature.
He started to prepare himself for the day, quietly bustling around the room to do so. He began talking mindlessly to (Y/N), sharing his plans for the day—meeting with his father, training the soldiers under his command, reviewing patrol reports, creating upcoming schedules for the guards, and so on. He did this because it wasn’t necessarily his day anymore, it was their day.
You see, (Y/N) had taken to the Prince and they were nearly inseparable. She would follow him like a shadow, exploring the castle with him and tending to all his Princely tasks. So much so, that it was a regular occurrence for the Greenwood elves to see (Y/N) trailing the halls. They no longer were uncomfortable by her presence. She was now a constant in their lives.
As he traded his comfortable sleepwear for his usual woodland attire, he cast a glance at the creature sprawled across his bed.
She was staring at him.
He frowned, turning towards her, as he pulled on his lower undergarments. He stood, shirtless in his underwear. “What? Do you not agree with the plans today?”
She answered with a yawn, rising to stretch.
His expression softened as he stepped closer.
With gentle nudges and a rumbling purr, she tried to coax him back to bed, drawing a quiet laugh from the prince. “We can’t, pîn faer (little soul). We have duties to attend to.”
The mountain lion huffed, then leapt from the bed and padded toward the door.
Legolas frowned as he pulled on his tunic. Mumbling to himself, he stated, “I swear she can understand me.”
With that, the pair headed out the door and through the Greenwood halls, making their way to Thranduil’s chambers.
With a knock and a brief invitation to enter, Legolas stepped inside, (Y/N) close behind. They found Thranduil seated at the small table in his chambers, reviewing papers as he sipped his tea and enjoyed a hearty breakfast.
“Adar (father),” Legolas began. “Did you receive the patrol reports I provided you? I had concerns regarding the increase of spiders upon the east side of the forest.”
The King did not glance up when he replied. “Yes, yes. I am reading through them now.”
“I believe we should dispatch another patrol to track them to their nest. I feel as if—“
The King interrupted him, his head snapping upwards. “Hush—do you hear that?”
Legolas’ brows pulled downwards. “What is it that you speak of?”
Thranduil huffed as he glanced about the room with intent focus and curiosity. “A mouse. It has been haunting me for a week and Feren has not been able to catch it.”
The Prince suppressed a grin. “You have assigned your advisor to catch a mouse? That sounds rather beneath him.”
Thranduil rolled his eyes, sensing his son’s teasing tone. “You would as well, had you gone a week without sleep. And besides, this particular mouse requires someone of exceptional intelligence to catch it. It is a remarkably cunning little menace—“ his tone shifted as his eyes landed on (Y/N), leaning against the Prince’s legs. “Legolas, what is that beast still doing in my halls—in my chambers, no less?!!”
Legolas looked down at the mountain lion before sending an innocent look back to his father. “She likes me,” he stated bluntly.
“I have no desire to keep a wild animal in my home. What purpose could it possibly serve? It’s nothing more than another mouth to feed—”
But before the King could finish, (Y/N) sprang into action—though not toward him. She bolted across the room with startling speed, slamming into a dresser. A flurry of frantic scurrying followed, then a sharp squeak, and finally a sickening crunch.
Moments later, she returned, a limp tail dangling from her mouth. She stopped before the King, dropped her prize at his feet, and revealed a lifeless mouse.
Then she looked up at Thranduil, her gaze steady and expectant.
The King’s eyes narrowed. He glanced from her to his son, his expression darkening.
Legolas only grinned. “She serves a purpose—one that Feren clearly does not.”
Thranduil’s scowl deepened. “Very well. The beast may stay…for now.”
In the weeks that followed, a mouse, or sometimes two, would appear outside the doors of Thranduil’s chambers every few days, much to his displeasure. It was almost as if the mountain lion considered it payment for her keep—delivered with deliberate cheek and unmistakable intent.
The King, unsurprisingly, was not amused.
….
The summer months had come, leading to the elves spending much time outdoors training, tending to gardens, or simply resting. It was during this time that Legolas walked with the captain of the guard, Tauriel, through the trails close to the Greenwood castle. (Y/N) trailed behind them.
The mountain lion watched intently, her eyes narrowing as Tauriel’s gaze softened, a quiet shimmer lighting within it whenever she looked at Legolas. She noted the easy way Tauriel laughed at something the Prince had said, the sound warm and unguarded. Her attention sharpened further as Tauriel reached for Legolas’ hand to steady herself over a narrow creek.
(Y/N) huffed and sprang across the gap, deliberately brushing against the elleth as she landed, just enough to make her stumble.
“Careful, pîn faer (little soul),” Legolas called, mistaking it for an accident. “We must be mindful of where our friends stand.”
The mountain lion answered with a low, rumbling growl before pressing her face against Legolas’ calf, subtly placing herself between him and the elleth.
Tauriel lifted a brow. “She seems quite taken with you, my friend.”
Legolas smiled softly as he crouched, running a gentle hand along the lioness’s back. “And I with her, I think.”
(Y/N) cast Tauriel a smug look, a quiet purr building in her chest.
The she-elf frowned, but spoke with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t think she enjoys my company very much.”
Legolas glanced up at her, unconcerned. “Nonsense. She is a remarkably friendly creature.”
Tauriel’s smile lingered, but something in her gaze was suspicious as she watched the mountain lion settle possessively at Legolas’ side. There was an awareness in the creature’s eyes—too deliberate, too knowing.
….
Summer was slowly giving way to autumn, and the nights carried a gentle, refreshing draft that drifted through open windows, cooling the castle walls.
Legolas, (Y/N), and members of the Woodland Guard had just returned from a spider hunt.
It was rough. It was brutal. It was bloody.
The mountain lion had partaken in the slaying of the vile creatures, for she was quick and fast—hunting was an innate part of who she was as a skinchanger.
She had joined the Prince on these patrols before, but this one was different—it was different because Legolas almost did not return from it.
There was a moment in battle where he had gotten pinned down by a rather large spider and was separated from the rest of the guard—but not from (Y/N).
She was quick to pounce on top of the hairy beast and dig her canines deep into its brain. She ripped its skin and bone open, sending grey matter flying through the air. Those sharp teeth, meant for shredding meat off bone and breaking open flesh, did not stop there. She continued ripping the beast apart until it released its grasp upon the Prince.
It flailed helplessly as its body could not take the desecration (Y/N) was bestowing upon it. She would have continued if it wasn’t for a sword piercing deep into its middle—carefully angled to not harm the mountain lion.
Legolas stood, panting and staring at her bloodied teeth.
A gentle smile formed upon the Prince’s expression. “Thank you, pîn faer (little soul).”
She answered with a low, rough sound—something akin to the meow of a barn cat—as she leapt to his side.
And that….that is when (Y/N) truly knew.
That fear she had felt when she saw Legolas ensnared beneath the spider—it was one she recognized all too well.
The feeling that had seized her. It was tight, forgotten, and all-consuming. Yet, it was not fear alone, but something far more vulnerable. It was a sensation she had known once before, long ago, before loss had stripped such an emotion from her world. It was love—deep and undeniable, taking root where she had sworn nothing would ever grow again.
She cared for Legolas—far more deeply than she had ever intended.
That evening, Legolas departed his chambers freshly bathed and dressed. This time, however, he did not bring (Y/N) with him. Instead, she remained curled upon his bed, watching as he prepared to leave—to spend time with Tauriel. They were to review “patrol reports,” he had said, though the mountain lion had long since noticed the subtle shifts in Tauriel’s demeanor toward the Prince….and she did not like it.
And so, the night unraveled from there, (Y/N)’s thoughts slipping loose and spiraling, spilling into every quiet corner of her mind until the moon stood high in the sky.
Did Legolas return the regard Tauriel harbored for him?
What if she dared to reach for him?
What if she sought his lips?
And what if he did not turn away?
The questions circled relentlessly, tightening their hold until that deep, unbidden care she bore for the Prince—something she, a creature of tooth and instinct, had no right to feel.
But…
She could, in truth, feel such care…just not in this form.
She began pacing the stone flooring—debating.
Could she do it? Could she shift once more…for him?
The question throbbed in her mind, pounding against her thoughts as if it were screaming, pleading, begging. Yet it did not come alone; it was bound to a strange sensation—sharp, insistent, and tinged with envy. A feeling that pulled taught and hard, like a rope coiling around her throat. And that pull? It began in her heart and funneled down the Greenwood halls towards a certain elf with the hair the color of the sun.
(Y/N) stood still.
Frequent shifts came smoothly, even without discomfort. But this…this was far from easy. A shift she had not attempted in countless years struck her with a pain no skin-changer should endure.
The mountain lion released a deep, gruff, painful sound as her body began to become consumed with excruciating pain. She could feel her form begin to contort and bend in the most agonizing way.
Every nerve burned as if it was being blessed by the fires of Mordor. Each muscle stretched as if it were being torn from her skeleton. And every bone felt stiff and cold, like the ghosts of the fallen had taken each ivory structure to the depths of death to keep them company.
It was as if she was experiencing everything and nothing all the same. The pain was all encompassing, gathering every aspect of self into it; and it did so until it was a bright white light of emptiness. Nothingness.
(Y/N) blinked.
She blinked again.
The ceiling of the Prince’s room began to come into focus—stone and wooden beams. They blurred and unblurred until they stabilized…sorta.
Slowly, (Y/N) lifted an arm and her hand appeared in her line of vision—her human hand.
She began to shift her form ever so slightly, only to cry out in pain. It was raw and filled with whimpering weakness—she nearly didn’t recognize herself in that sound.
She turned her head to look at her other arm, only to turn away in disgust, for the bone in her forearm was snapped and sticking out of her skin. A wave of nausea hit her—from the pain or repulsion of the sight, she knew not. She rolled on her side and used her intact arm to push herself up slightly.
She vomited.
(Y/N) attempted to pull herself upwards to stand; however, a deep, sharp pain stabbed her in the ribs. She groaned.
Hesitantly and excruciatingly, she began to drag herself from Legolas’ chambers toward his door—leaving a rather heavy trail of blood behind her.
As she reached the wooden barrier before her, she lifted a trembling hand toward the handle. It took several attempts—her blood-slicked palm slipping against the metal—before she managed to turn it enough to crack the door open. Forcing it wider, she pulled herself into the hallway beyond.
The pain surged, sharper now, and her vision began to blur once more. A cry tore from her throat before she could contain it.
Then, the darkness claimed her.
It was not long before a Greenwood guard, making his rounds, came upon the sight—a naked, bloodied woman curled in the center of the corridor. At once, he rushed to her side, calling out urgently for aid. Others answered his cry, soldiers and servants alike, who hastened to cover her and carry her swiftly to the healing ward.
…..
A sudden swell of anxiety and curiosity stirred in Legolas’s chest as he came upon a small cluster of guards gathered just outside his chambers, deep in hushed discussion. It was not their presence that unsettled him, however, but the trail of blood that led from his door.
“What has happened?” He asked, approaching them. “Whose blood is this?”
Immediately, they turned to face him.
He swallowed dryly, “Not the mountain lion, is it?”
A guard with deep brown hair, Tarron, spoke. “No, no. 'Twas not your beast. It was a woman.”
Legolas peered into his room, taking note of the blood and the vomit. “Who? A servant?”
Tarron shook his head. “We don’t know. I didn’t recognize her.”
The Prince frowned, for when you live for centuries upon centuries, you tend to know everyone in your home. “You did not recognize her?”
“Nay. Ruvenn did not either. He took her to the healing ward.”
Legolas raised his brows, taking note of the amount of blood. “She’s alive?”
Tarron nodded.
With that, the Prince turned and made his way to the healing ward, pushing open the large wooden doors. The chamber stretched long and open, lined with empty beds, yet his gaze was drawn at once to its sole occupant and those that gathered around her.
At the bedside stood the head healer, Halafarin, carefully binding the arm of a woman, while another healer moved at his side, supplying what was needed. Yet it was the sight of his father, standing over the bed, that surprised Legolas the most.
“Who is it?” Legolas questioned, moving towards them.
Thranduil replied, “I know not.”
The Prince allowed his gaze to rest upon the stranger before him. If even the King did not recognize one within his own realm, then who would?
“Not one of your warriors, I’m assuming?” Thranduil persisted, almost begging for an answer.
Legolas only shook his head, flabbergasted, as he examined her features. He took note of every curve of her expression and each dip and bend. She was beautiful in every essence of the word. How could he not have seen her within these walls before?
“I may have an answer as to why none of us recognize her,” Halafarin stated, interrupting Legolas’ thoughts. He gently grasped the woman’s chin and rotated her head. He then brushed aside her hair, revealing her ears with no point.
“A human?” Thranduil remarked, a faint note of abhorrence coloring his tone.
Legolas frowned, leaning into his elvish senses. “She does not carry the scent of a human,” he said quietly. “There is something… different.”
Thranduil cast his son a sharp look. “Whatever her nature, how did she come within my halls? Has one of your guards neglected their post?”
The Prince exhaled in quiet frustration. “Of course not.”
“Well, I most certainly did not permit a human to enter—” Thranduil pressed; however, his sentence was stolen from him by a loud interruption.
The woman bolted upright, drawing in a sharp, panicked breath.
It was then that Legolas saw her eyes—eyes that he knew by heart.
When her frightened gaze found him, her breathing began to steady and her tension eased as recognition took hold.
“Legolas,” she breathed.
Thranduil’s head snapped toward his son. “You do know her?”
But Legolas did not answer. He stared at her in stunned silence, his father’s words falling unheard. His lips parted slowly as he spoke, barely above a whisper.
“Pîn faer… (little soul).”
She smiled softly. “Hello, Legolas.”
“Y-you…” he faltered, disbelief catching in his voice. “You’re a skin-changer.”
“A skin-changer?!” Thranduil cut in, his gaze snapping between them. “What—who…” Realization dawned, sharp and incredulous. “The beast?! The mountain lion?”
The woman turned to face the King, slight annoyance in her tone. “You know, I prefer not to be called ‘the beast.’ I have a name.”
Legolas' vibrant gaze, the color of the sky, softened. “What is your name? What do they call you?”
She looked at him, sadness upon her expression. “There is no one to call me anything anymore.” The smallest, softest, hint of a smile stretched across her lips. “No one, but you, calling me Pîn faer (little soul).”
“But before me?” He questioned gently.
“(Y/N),” she replied.
That night, the Prince and the skin-changer sat together in the healing ward, Legolas perched at the edge of her bed. They spoke at length. (Y/N) told her story—her grief, her fears, the path that had trapped her in her animal form, and the loss of her kin. She laid her heart bare before him, and he received it with gentle, unwavering care.
…
Tags are in the comments because there are many of you <3
THIS IS SO GOOD! It is so well written. Every scene was conjured in my mind like a beautiful movie and I loved every second of it. The bond between Y/N and Legolas was so heartwarming, and Thranduil not being amused makes me cackle. I love it! Thank you so much for writing this lovely OneShot!
Day 16
hot items
I can’t even begin to describe the energy radiating off this post
not a day passes by without me thinking about the greeting card for columbina...
the heart of the krumkake craftshop which is usually aino's symbol having the pink half representing ineffa here... durin's little drawing of himself and wanderer as he sees them... sandrone drawing herself looking all cool while columbina gets bitten by the shark... varka/flins/albedo drawing each other... dodoco-alice crushing dodocole... ashru standing in for nefer... albedo's drawing of columbina... oh nod-krai family oh nod-krai family......
REblog if you are Asexual, support Asexuals, or spend most of your time actually thinking about Superheroes.
Mission Lost Homework
Fandom : Spy x Family
Relationship : Damian x Anya
I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.
Summary : Damian stopped in front of the classroom, whose door was slightly open. He peeked inside. Anya was cleaning it. It was her punishment for arriving late and not turning in her homework. The excuse she had come up with was that her dog had eaten it.
Normally, Damian would have rolled his eyes and made fun of her for coming up with such a stupid excuse. Except this time, he did not feel like laughing at all, because it was his fault she had been late and did not have her homework.
Disclaimer : Spy x Family belongs to Tatsuya Endo.
AO3 / FF.NET
Damian stopped in front of the classroom, whose door was slightly open. He peeked inside. Anya was cleaning it. It was her punishment for arriving late and not turning in her homework. The excuse she had come up with was that her dog had eaten it.
Normally, Damian would have rolled his eyes and made fun of her for coming up with such a stupid excuse. Except this time, he did not feel like laughing at all, because it was his fault she had been late and did not have her homework. And if she had invented that ridiculous excuse, it was only to avoid embarrassing him in front of their teacher.
That very morning, while packing his bag for class, Damian had realized he had lost his homework. He had searched everywhere in his room, but it was not there. The only place he had been the day before was the library.
He checked the time, panicking. He had only half an hour left to get to the library, find his homework, and make it to class. If he hurried, he could make it.
He had arrived at the library running and had been scolded by the librarian for making too much noise. He went straight to the table where he had worked the day before. But instead of his homework, he found Anya. She was also working on the assignment, except unlike him, she had started at the very last minute. She was writing frantically, almost panicked, her brows furrowed, her tongue stuck between her teeth. From time to time, she muttered, “oh no, oh no, oh no…” When she looked up, it was obvious she was on the verge of crying… or exploding. And when Damian glanced at her homework, he saw it looked more like a rough draft, with her messy handwriting and scribbles everywhere.
Damian had searched every corner of the library and, he could not have said how, Anya had figured out he was looking for his homework. Even though he kept telling her he did not need help, she ignored him completely and started searching between the shelves. She was the one who found it. He had left it inside a book he had put away before returning to the dorm.
Classes were about to start in a few minutes. Anya had gathered her things quickly, and they had run off. Damian arrived a few seconds before the teacher closed the door. When he looked behind him, Anya was not there. He frowned. Where had she gone ? She arrived a minute later, out of breath. Damian winced. He had run so fast he hadn’t even noticed she was not keeping up. She was scolded by the teacher, and when Damian tried to explain she was late because of him, she shot him a look that clearly meant : don’t say a word.
At the end of class, when the teacher asked them to hand in their homework, Anya did not have hers. She had forgotten it at the library. She was scolded again and punished. At the end of the day, she would have to clean the classroom alone. As if she knew what Damian was about to do, she gave him that look again. The one that kept him from opening his mouth.
Why was she trying to protect him ? Idiot, he thought. If she wanted to get punished in his place, that was her problem. After all, he had not asked her for anything. It was not his fault if she was too stupid to blame him. But if he did not care, why was he still standing in front of that door ?
Suddenly, he saw her trip over the broom. Damian rolled his eyes. She was a commoner, he thought. She should be used to cleaning. Idiot, moron, he thought as he abruptly opened the door. He snatched the broom from her hands and started sweeping. Anya stared at him, stunned, her eyes wide open.
“Stop looking at me with that dumb expression,” he snapped. “I’ll clean. Go home.”
“I was punished.”
“It was because of me. And I never asked you for anything.”
“Are you sure ?”
What did not she understand ? Damian felt anger rising in him.
“Hurry up and leave before I change my mind !”
Anya jumped, then her face lit up with a smile so bright it could have illuminated the whole room. Damian blushed. He turned his head away so she wouldn’t see his red cheeks.
“Thank you !” She said cheerfully.
She gave a little wave before darting off like a rocket. Damian swept furiously. She annoyed him. She annoyed him as much as he lov— He shook his head violently to chase away the thought. He was not ready to admit what he felt for her.
He kept cleaning the classroom, unable to get Anya’s radiant smile out of his mind.
The end
Damian & Anya
(sooooo this, uhhh, became far longer than anticipated, but i really wanted to analyze & explore their relationship. it ended up being 5k+ words long. So, uhhh... please enjoy ????)
Something i really enjoy about Spy x Family is how naturally Damian and Anya's relationship evolves over the series. it shows Anya going from indifferent to him at best- only trying to befriend him because of the mission - to genuinely caring for and worrying about him.
And while Anya is a little too young to understand romance yet, the series sets up the idea that Damian is, actually, exactly her type.
Anya likes Action Heroes. She likes Bondman and all the cool adventures he goes on. She likes people like her parents, who will go to any length to protect innocent people for world peace- to create a world where no child has to cry.
These are the things that Anya admires and likes the most.
And as the series goes on, Damian slowly starts embodying these concepts, all on his own.
Early on, Anya had the worst first impression of Damian she could've possibly experienced. To the point where she almost gave up on the friendship scheme entirely before she even really started it
And even after she apologized for hitting him, he still yelled at her and ran away bc he didn't know how to deal with his newfound romantic feelings- but from the outside, it just looked like he rejected her.
And it wasn't until the dodgeball game when things started to change from her perspective
Anya could read Damian's mind, and knew that he wanted to win the game to get his dad's approval.
And when she realized that he planned to use any means necessary to do that, even sacrifice the other kids, she judged him as being a jerk. She didn't like him at all.
But, despite Damian's own wishes, when Anya fell and was in a defenseless state, his body moved on its own to protect her.
Even Damian is confused by his actions here.
But, if I had to guess, I think there's a non zero chance that Damian might have done this for any of his classmates, regardless of who they were, had they been in Anya's position (that is - completely helpless and defenseless against an incoming attack). that ball was going fast, and it's clear that it would have hurt had it not been stopped.
Damian's body instinctively moved to protect someone helpless, because deep down, he wants to protect others. That's one of the reasons he wants to become a politician. The reaction was just stronger with her, in particular, because of his crush.
This is the moment when Anya first rethinks her opinion of him. She looks at him with admiration, and thinks that he might actually be nice, until he starts insulting her again.
It's only after he does something negative to her that she returns to her previous opinion, and once again sets the friendship scheme to the side because she doesn't like him.
Damian is still too immature for Anya to wanna befriend him.
This ends up becoming a recurring pattern between them. Damian surprises Anya, she rethinks her opinion of him, he insults her, and she dislikes him again, etc.
What's really interesting are the moments where this pattern is broken.
Let's put a pin in that.
The next significant moment between them is during the bus highjacking.
Now, Damian isn't the first to try and help calm things down when the other kids start freaking out- that was Bill Watkins. Damian wanted to, but couldn't quite muster up the nerve, but he admires Bill's actions there all the same.
But when he sees Anya in (what he assumes to be) very real danger, it spurs him on.
He gets up and tells the highjackers to put the bomb on him instead.
Damian has no way of knowing that the bomb is a fake. He just sees one of his classmates in danger, sees how scared she is (she's isn't, but he doesn't know that), and acts.
Anya is, once again, looking at him with admiration.
When they put a fake bomb on Damian, he's terrified, but tries to keep it together.
Anya recognizes this, and reaches out her hand to him.
This is the first time they held hands, and truly made a connection. while there have been superficial attempts from Anya to befriend Damian before this, none of them really worked. Because they were only for the mission.
This is genuine.
She can read his mind, and knows how badly this has shaken him, despite how hard he's trying to keep it together, and goes to comfort him. Not for the mission, but because he needed it, and she wanted to give it.
After the situation is resolved, Damian and Anya are left to wait for their parents.
Anya isn't the one to start the conversation. It's Damian. And he does it by acknowledging her heroic actions, and sincerely apologizing for his behavior towards her up until now.
It's only afterwards that Anya compliments and praises him.
(Anya always responds in kind to how Damian treats her. If he's nice, she'll be nice back. If he's mean, she'll be mean back. Let's put a pin in that as well.)
She calls him a Hero.
This is the first time she's ever given Damian this kind of positive attention, and it's all sincere.
Anya admires Heroes more than anything - it's why she thinks her parents are so cool, and why she likes Bondman. She doesn't really throw that word around casually.
But Damian legitimately earns that praise from her with his own actions. He had no thoughts about trying to look cool in front of the others or showing up Bill. Instead, he was trying to shoulder the kind of responsibility he might have in the future.
Which includes protecting Anya.
And in this moment, she sees Damian for who he really is, and finds that she likes what she sees.
Anya is only reminded of the friendship scheme after. Operation Strix had nothing to do with their interaction until then, and it's only then that Damian closes himself off, and quietly admits that he barely has a relationship with his parents anyway.
Becoming friends with him just to gain his family's connections would be useless.
Anya takes note of this. In fact, she's been quietly keeping tabs on Damian and his relationship with his family since the dodgeball game. Part of it is for Operation Strix (the arts and crafts project, the handkerchief, etc), but there are moments in between when she just stares at him thoughtfully.
She knows he struggles to earn his father's attention, and a lot of what he does is to try and earn his praise. That's something she can relate to.
But when she hears that he doesn't even really have a relationship with his own parents, it seems to strike a cord in her. She gives him a pat on the back, and starts paying more attention to his family.
She seems... Concerned.
And it only gets worse when she finally meets Melinda.
Melinda's thoughts worry her. Anya isn't old enough to explain why exactly, but something is clearly off.
Melinda loves her son, and yet she hates him.
That's not how families should work. Right?
The interaction concerns her enough that she asks Loid about it, unprompted, trying to understand what happened. Melinda came to get Damian, so that means she loves him, right? But why were her thoughts all strange like that? It makes no sense.
The friendship scheme is the furthest thing from Anya's mind. She's just worried about Damian.
When they return to school, Damian and Anya's relationship seems to reset to how it was before.
They bicker, they fight, they act like children. Damian shouts insults, and Anya responds. Etc.
And just as before, Anya decides she doesn't like him anymore because he's being a jerk. If he treats her badly, then she doesn't want to deal with him.
But things aren't the same as they were before.
When Damian realizes he went too far and made Anya cry, he collects himself, apologizes for what he said, and offers to get her something to make up for it.
You can tell that this leaves a positive impression on Anya. There's even shoujo sparkles around her as she stares at him.
Before the highjacking, Damian never would have had the maturity to do this in front of his peers. He would have been far too embarrassed about his feelings for her, and would have overreacted, insulted her, and left.
But after everything they've been through together - a legitimate life and death situation - Damian has grown up a little.
And Anya takes note of this, because it's a significant departure from his previous behavior. She immediately recognizes that something is different now.
The narration even supports this, because even after they go back to bickering, it says that they were doing so as good friends.
Now, this mature behavior doesn't quite last (the chapter with the tea cakes comes to mind)- but it's a start.
The next big change in their relationship happens at the school dance.
When the dance is first announced, Anya immediately goes to ask Damian to dance with her. He rejects her out of embarrassment. And when her legs are wobbly from practicing with her dad, Damian makes fun of her.
Both were shallow attempts at befriending Damian for the friendship scheme, and when he's mean to her, she quickly decides it's not worth the effort and gives up. Again. The pattern continues.
But things are different at the dance proper.
Plenty of girls want to dance with Damian.
Anya has her own share of suitors, too. And she read Loid's mind- she knows he has no expectations for her here. Sure, it'd be nice if she and Damian danced together, but he's not going to force it. He's already decided that both of them have the right to dance with whoever they want. They deserve to have a choice in this.
There's no pressure here. She's free to make her own decision. It's okay to dance with someone else.
And yet... She still chooses to dance with Damian.
Now, I'm sure a large part of this is because of the friendship scheme. She's determined to help Loid in his mission and make him proud. There's no denying that.
However, even without that as her main motivation, i think she would've preferred to dance with Damian regardless. Why?
Well, out of all of her classmates sans Becky, he's the one she's closest to.
Everyone else is an acquaintance at best, or a stranger at worst.
But Anya knows Damian. He's familiar. They've had history since day 1, and are friends in all but name. He might be mean sometimes, but he's protected her, and been with her the whole time.
Most importantly of all, however, is that Anya understands him. And that's best shown when she answers the last question without using her powers.
Because she knows more than anyone how hard Damian works to earn his father's love. She's been watching him work towards that goal from the very beginning.
The dodgeball match, the arts and crafts project, the macaron, the handkerchief, the bus highjacking, etc - everything he's done was, at least partially, motivated by his desire to live up to his father's expectations, and to earn his love and approval. It bleeds into Damian's every action.
Anya knows how deeply he fears being rejected by his dad. It's something she can relate to.
So, of course she chose to dance with Damian. Why would she dance with someone she doesn't know, when he's right there?
And on Damian's side - when Anya answers the last question correctly, he has the same reaction she did earlier when he apologized- right down to the same wide eyed expression and shoujo sparkles.
Both are scenes that show a moment of connection between them. Damian realizes that Anya isn't just trying to cozy up to him to get close to his father. Their time spent together hasn't been meaningless and superficial. She's actually paid attention to him- not to his family name.
To Damian.
And for once, Damian feels understood.
Which, i think, is why he does what he does here.
When they start dancing, it's awkward and uncomfortable. They're not in sync with each other at all. Damian is too afraid and embarrassed to get closer, and Anya looks sick and can't follow at all. It's practically a metaphor for how their relationship began.
But they take a moment, and recenter themselves.
Damian closes the distance and holds her properly, and they're finally able to dance. It's still a little awkward, but now both sides are working together to move in rhythm.
And it's in that moment of connection when he tells her that her family sounds nice.
His expression is so painfully soft and earnest here, that Anya knows without a doubt that he's telling the truth, even after he tries to walk back his words.
Because she's seen his family.
His mom has strange, contradictory thoughts. His brother is empty and confusing, and doesn't have any thoughts at all. He's terrified to face his father with anything less than perfection, and admits to having almost no relationship with his parents.
Damian's family is weird.
Once she's fully aware of it, it becomes one of the few things throughout the story that genuinely bothers her - especially Melinda's thoughts about him. She'll reflect on these moments in her spare time, completely unrelated to Operation Strix.
There are very few subjects that take up that much space in her thoughts, and even fewer that she treats with so much weight.
So when Damian lets his guard down and admits that her family sounds nice - her fake family, half-hazardly thrown together in a week for a mission that could end at any moment - knowing what his is like...
Damian is just a child. Just like her. He didn't ask to be born into such a weird family. He's just a kid thrown into a situation he can't control, and he's trying his best.
And as mentioned before, Anya responds to Damian's treatment of her like she's a mirror. If he's nice to her, she's nice back. If he's mean to her, she's mean back.
Damian was honest with her. And so Anya answers his honesty with her own.
But before we go into that, I want to back up a little.
From the very beginning of the series, we've seen how much Anya fears letting anyone know about her powers.
It's the source of her greatest anxiety. Something she's convinced will tear her new family apart, and cause her parents to fully reject her. Every little threat of exposure sends her into a mild panic, and she does everything she can to keep it hidden. Because she desperately doesn't want to be rejected and abandoned again.
At the research facility, having her powers meant that she had to constantly study for world peace. She wasn't allowed to have fun.
After she escaped - and who knows how long ago that was - she was shuttled around to various orphanages. Being adopted out and returned 4 times. By the time we're introduced to her, the owner of the run down orphanage she's currently in calls her creepy and just wants to get rid of her.
It's very possible the reason she was returned was because her powers scared the people who adopted her. And even when she tried to hide them, people still picked up on how weird she was and rejected her.
Who knows how many times she's been rejected and feared for her abilities before now? It's something that clearly traumatizes her.
But in this moment with Damian, she has none of that fear.
I think it's important to note - she's telling him this as he's dipping her. A move where one dance partner has to completely trust that the other won't let them fall.
Damian could have dropped her, but she had no doubt that he would keep her safe. She never even considered the idea that he wouldn't.
And she's right.
Because they shared a moment of understanding. Because Damian was vulnerable with her. And because, looking back, he's never given her a reason to not trust him.
He protected her during the dodgeball match, even after she punched him. When others questioned him about it, he immediately put a stop to the rumors about her Stella being unearned- despite being upset that she earned one before him. He gave up the macaron he tried so hard to get because he couldn't handle her tears. He made good on his promise to get her cakes, in return for her help, even though bringing food to the school is forbidden and he could've gotten in trouble for it.
He tried to take a bomb for her out of his own free will.
Damian didn't have to do any of those things - some of them were downright insulting, detrimental, or dangerous to him, personally. He didn't benefit at all from most of these situations. And no one was forcing him.
But he inserted himself and helped anyway.
Because no matter how much they bicker and fight, when it's important, he's always been there for her. He's never abandoned her when it actually counts, even when he has every right to.
And even afterwards, when he doesn't believe her and she starts picking a fight with him again - they never pull away. They keep dancing, perfectly in sync with each other, despite their bickering.
This interaction had nothing to do with Operation Strix or the friendship scheme. Those thoughts were the furthest thing from her mind. And, in fact, Anya doesn't gain anything from telling him about her greatest secret.
This was all because Damian was vulnerable with Anya, and she responded in kind.
There's a reason the chapter ends with +100 friendship.
Skipping ahead to the festival -
Anya meets with Damian, and remembers - through Loid's thoughts - that she needs to work on the friendship scheme.
As usual, they bicker and fight over who gets to stay or leave- but as soon as Anya starts crying (about messing up the friendship scheme), Damian relents.
In fact, he's become quicker and quicker at realizing when he's messed up, and taking steps to fix it.
And, i think it's important to note how much Anya is thinking about Operation Strix during all this.
It's on her mind the entire time she's been at the festival so far - about how she needs to befriend Damian, about how Yor might beat her with the mommy friendship scheme, how Loid might abandon her if Plan C succeeds, etc.
That changes as she and Yor run into Melinda.
Anya is still focusing on the friendship scheme, up until these moments, when she reads Melinda's thoughts about Damian.
Melinda thinking how she wants her son to go away, how she'd love to go to the festival with him, how happy she is that Anya is trying to befriend him, how she's failed him as a mother, how much she wants to face him, how terrified she is of her husband and going against his wishes...
These thoughts knock Operation Strix completely out of Anya's mind.
She stares at Melinda, feeling nothing but concern. Realizing that Damian's mom is being bullied by his dad. That his family doesn't get along.
That his family is much more broken than she realized.
And so, when Damian lashes out here, insulting her specifically - she doesn't antagonize him back.
She broke their usual pattern.
The last few times this has happened, Damian was the one to break it, because Anya refuses to back down and only reflects his behavior. She rarely changes things unless he acts first.
But this time, it's Anya.
Because Anya read Damian's mind here. She realizes that he doesn't actually mean what he says, and that he's feeling jealous that his mom isn't with him. How he wants to spend time with her. How he doesn't feel loved by his own family.
Anya takes it upon herself to correct this. She even takes off her mask, so she could speak to him face to face and clearly state how his mom loves him.
It's something she feels he needs to know. And she's right.
Because the more time Anya spends around Damian, the more she realizes how messed up his family is - and the more concerned she gets about him. It's starting to override her snap reactions to his insults.
It's to the point where she's no longer reflecting his behavior towards her. She cares about him enough to not care about that anymore.
The next few moments between them focus on Damian's personal qualities, and how they mesh well with Anya's.
Damian is jealous of the new boys hanging around Anya. This is hardly the first time he's been jealous, but this time the boys are in her class, without him, and Becky is only making things worse. It bothers him so much that he keeps having nightmares.
So he has a cute little arc about dealing with jealousy and how to accept it peacefully, instead of fighting against it.
And, I think it's important to note that Damian's way of dealing with it was through the lens of an RPG hero. Because, like Anya, Damian also loves action, adventure, and heroes.
This is a trait Damian has had the entire time, completely separate from Anya's sphere of influence.
Damian stood up to the bus highjackers, because he was inspired by the people he admired as heroes. One of the reasons he loves his father so much is because he (heroically, from Damian's point of view) ended a war.
When Damian is alone with Emile and Erwin, they often devolve into playing games where Damian is the hero. On the playground, on a hike, in the forest in search of ancient artifacts...
And on that note, history is his favorite subject because of the romance of adventure it gives him. Ancient treasures, lost civilizations, etc- it all appeals to him for the same reasons why Anya likes Bondman.
And so, in trying to deal with his jealousy, Damian heroically defeats the buzz monster through the power of diplomacy and his Paradise Fist. Which he then wears to school the next morning.
Anya, meanwhile, has become bored with Tertius and Freddy's fawning. Sure, she enjoys their praise and attention initially (because she thinks it'll lead to world peace), but she loses interest in them quickly.
And, well... they're both nice, but that's all there is to it. They're not playing with her, or doing anything that she can bounce herself off of. They're trying to show off to win her attention, and it's just not working.
Anya has a short attention span, and is very quick to declare something boring if she doesn't like it. Neither Tertius or Freddy can hold her attention, despite their attempts, because none of what they're bringing to the table appeals to her at all.
In fact, it's a little reminiscent of when Anya first met Damian. He was trying to boast about his family to get respect, and Anya only felt annoyed by it.
What does get her attention is Damian's Paradise Fist.
She finds it super cool and even says how she wants it. It even becomes a bonding moment for them- being one of the first times Anya has gone up to Damian unprompted, happily, without thinking about the friendship scheme or expecting something from him (tea snacks).
She just finds his Paradise Fist cool, and Damian gets to enjoy some genuine, positive attention from her. Attention that he earned by being his honest self.
Because, when you get down to it, Damian and Anya both like the same things.
Both like action, and adventure, and heroes, and fighting for world peace. Both admire their fathers for their (apparent) heroic actions. And both are inspired by their fathers to take similar action and protect others.
Damian and Anya have never had a moment to really sit and talk about it in canon, but their love of this stuff and desire to act on it is something that they only share with each other.
Becky, Erwin, and Emile don't understand. Becky finds Anya's love of cartoons and adventure stories childish, and Erwin and Emile thought history was boring until Damian tried to convince them otherwise.
In fact, the person closest to sharing Anya's interests is Connie... Except, not really. Because Anya wants to catch a ghost for fun, while Connie wants to exorcise evil spirits because of her obsession with the paranormal.
Which leads me into...
When Damian hears that Anya and her new classmates are going ghost hunting, he immediately points out that going into the abandoned school building could get them all in trouble - basically, they could earn a Tonitrus Bolt.
But when it becomes clear that Anya is going to go anyway, and with Tertius specifically, Damian decides to join in. His jealousy is too strong for him to just leave the situation as is, and he can't stand the idea of Anya being alone with Tertius.
But... I think it's important to point out that Damian casually took an action that could have gotten him a Tonitrus Bolt (as he points out the next day) - a concept that scared him so badly before that he was shaking in fear.
I think this moment shows growth on Damian's end. He's still concerned about getting in trouble, but the threat of getting a Bolt won't keep him from acting when he feels it's necessary.
However, in my opinion, I don't think Damian went just out of pure jealousy. I think he was also concerned for Anya and wanted to look after her.
Because, if you watch him from the moment he hears about their plans, to when they leave, he's the only one showing real concern for the other kids.
He warns them about getting into trouble.
When Anya runs into the house, Damian is the one to suggest that they follow her inside, using the rain as an excuse.
When Anya runs further into the house, following Connie, he runs after her.
When they're already in the house and the others want to go home, Damian is the one who asks if they're gonna chicken out and leave now that they've gone this far.
In other words - he's the one keeping the group together, and not letting others split off on their own.
When Tertius, a boy Damian has been insanely jealous of since the day they first met, starts feeling so scared he's about to faint, Damian is the one who reaches out to steady him, looking nothing but concerned for the other boy.
And when Anya collapses while everyone runs away, Damian wastes no time and immediately goes back for her, straight into danger, even as Connie warns him not to. He shows no hesitation - he just runs, picks her up when it's clear she can't stand on her own, and carries her the 3 flights down and out of the building.
He's also the one keeping a steady head the entire time.
He tries to calm everyone down ("There's no such thing as ghosts!" "Let's just find the stupid ghost and head home already."), and ends up leading the group so they don't just wander around aimlessly. He calmly makes a route for them, and also criticizes the others for making everyone more scared.
Anya might be his priority here (he knows she will leap into danger, because he's seen her do it), but Damian is the one taking care of the whole entire group and making sure everyone is safe.
Honestly, Damian is shaping up to be a natural born hero. He'll put himself into danger to make sure others are safe, despite his own fear and terror.
Which is exactly the kind of person Anya likes most.
And, another fun thing to note - since returning to school, Damian and Anya have been much more relaxed around each other. There haven't been any big fights, and any moment of conflict is resolved in a panel, and neither takes it too personally.
They're able to just kinda... exist around each other much more easily now.
Plus, with everything else I've written here about how much they have in common, how well they understand each other, and how they enjoy the same things that others don't, well...
I think I've made it clear that, while they're still too young for a proper romance yet, these two are basically perfect for each other.
It's honestly fantastic how Endo has managed to carefully write them so nuanced in this way. the series isn't even close to done yet, and there's still so much to explore.
In addition to all of this, because I couldn't find a place to put it-
Anya has some connection to Classical Language. Endo once said that it's the equivalent of Latin in this world, and Loid mentioned that there's no country that speaks that way today.
Damian loves history. Specifically, ancient civilizations. And he casually mentions one that used to exist in the southern part of the continent.
I'm sure at some point, these two plot threads will intersect. It's set up perfectly to do so, and it's been there since early in the manga.
Anya is very likely connected to this lost civilization. Maybe she was chosen for experimentation because her mother was a descendants of the people who used to live there? Did her mother teach her Classical Language, or did the scientists? Is it something else?
Damian's love of history may end up helping Anya in some way, assuming she really is connected. History isn't her best subject by a long shot, and she was too young to remember why she has experience with Classical Language. She has no reason to look into ancient civilization or history.
But history is Damian's favorite subject. And if he knows that Anya has a connection to that ancient civilization, and she was likely experimented on because of it, I can only imagine how far he'd go to try and help her with his knowledge.
Damian might just have the answers to questions Anya doesn't even realize she has yet. And if he doesn't, he might be able to push others into the right direction.
There's just so much to speculate on with these two and i can't wait to see what Endo does next with them lol
Ok im done now uhhh bye
