#when will you see chapter 20?

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 19

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he  finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly  unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can  handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged  Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | Crossposted to AO3

Sense memory was a funny thing — a sound, or a smell, or even a humid sea breeze could rewind time. Theron didn’t consider himself to be overly nostalgic or sentimental, but the moment he stepped off the shuttle, and the salty, humid sea breeze on Manaan took him back. He hadn’t set foot on this planet in over a decade, but for a moment, it felt like he had never truly left.

Nostalgia probably wasn’t the right word — his time on Manaan hadn’t exactly been the high point of his life. He’d made his way here after he’d left Haashimut and the Order (or they had left him—details details). It was before he’d even been recruited into the SIS. Just him and his teenage angst against the galaxy. It hadn’t all been bad, though. Even in the darkest moments, he still had some fond memories. Like the exhilarating rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins the very first time he raced through the swoop tracks, or those times he and one of his few friends from the minor league circuit would sneak out to the docks so they could watch the sun set over the endlessly crashing waves.

He blinked away the past, taking in his current surroundings. Things had chanced in his absence; time had a way of always marching on. Everything looked a little different at this height, less grand and imposing, and more… mundane. He didn’t remember any of the storefronts lining the Mercantile Plaza, nor recognize any of the faces milling about. The pristine fountains still sparkled radiantly in the sunlight, but even their beauty didn’t seem to match up with his memory. Perhaps it was because despite the pleasant weather and the tang of the sea in the air, he could still feel the oppressive weight of the local government in every interaction he spied upon. From the signs boldly declaring the many rules of off-world visitors, to the wariness lining the faces of the non-Selkath citizens milling about. Ahh, the telltale signs of a xenophobic and isolationist state. He’d definitely not missed that part about this place.

He slipped into the crowd milling about the Mercantile Plaza with practiced ease. It was a trick he’d employed many a time back in his first time here, but now he had over a decade of fieldwork under his belt. While humans were an abundant species on most planets, here on Manaan they were a bit more of a novelty, one of those weird, hairy, land-dwelling aliens. In his experience, a lot of Selkath had difficulty distinguishing between humans. Most of the population lived happily under the waters below, and saw little the outside galaxy by the design of their controlling government. In that way, being a human both drew attention, yet also provided cover. Something an experienced spy could use to their advantage.

The trick was to blend in by standing out. Act a bit like a lost tourist refusing to ask for directions, walk with confidence as if he knew where he was going (which he did), but also pausing occasionally as if looking for landmarks. It worked, and no one gave him a second look. He had got through customs almost laughably easy, the documents he’d forged for his cover identity passing with flying colors. It had also been almost too easy to guide the conversation with the customs officer so that Theron could obtain information on Darok. Just a lot of wide, toothy smiles, vapid blinking, and incessant babbling about his work and vacation plans. That was just the kind of guy that Tev Fith was.

He couldn’t check the grin at the name he’d chosen, part of the reason for his many toothy smiles with the customs officer. If she’d been around, he was fairly certain that Teff’ith would have threatened to shoot him over it. Or maybe just taken a shot on principle alone. And wasn’t imitation supposed to be one of the greatest forms of flattery? She should be more appreciative of his attempts to include her in his undercover work. In a way, she was helping him save the Republic again.

He could just hear the “Stupid Theron” being muttered in the back of his head. It nearly made him laugh again.

The intel was good, though. Darok had arrived only two days prior, so while a little behind, Theron was on the right trail. The Colonel had also put in a request for him and another individual for deep subsurface travel starting tomorrow. Odds were good that Darok’s travel buddy was Darth Arkous. If Theron stuck around the Plaza, it was possible he might even catch the two of them out in the open — of course; the opposite was also true.

That would just be embarrassing if he was spotted. Best to be careful and observe, wait for his backup to arrive. Speaking of… he needed to double-check the whereabouts of the Defender. If Darok was heading down under the surface tomorrow, it meant that something was about to go down, and Theron fully intended to be there. It’d be nice if his asset was there too, just in case her fancy lightsaber skills were called for.

While forging his identity documents, Theron had also taken care to rent out a little office space in Tev Fith’s name. Just a little space off the primary thoroughfare of the Mercantile Plaza, but still on the main network. A good op always needed a proper base of operations. Preferably one with better climate control than deep in the bowels of a Force enhanced Sith alchemical warship. As “fun” as it was to save the Republic in nothing more than his skivvies again, he really ought to be more properly dressed if he was going to have company. Something told him that his current Jedi operative would be a little less nonplussed about it than Gnost-Dural had been.

It took Theron most of the morning to slice into Manaan’s mainframe without tripping any security protocols. He’d been able to confirm Darok’s lodgings, which were thankfully far enough away from Theron’s little base so they wouldn’t accidentally bump into each other on a caf break. But still close enough for the spy to monitor him.

The government here liked to keep a very close eye on outsiders, meaning there were security cameras almost everywhere. It was both a blessing and a curse in this situation — in that it restricted Theron’s movements outside of his little office, but also allowed him to keep a digital eye on his targets. It was tedious work, especially as he had to more or less track the security feeds, since he didn’t want to risk installing any code on the mainframe that might give away his presence in the system. But that was the job sometimes — for every pulse pounding minute of action, there were several hours of monotony leading up to it.

So Theron watched the feeds, following both Darok and Arkous around the Mercantile Plaza with his many digital eyes. Their permits to head down to the underwater facility weren’t until the next day, so he was fairly confident that they wouldn’t disappear on him completely. However, Theron wanted to be sure he knew all the players in whatever game they were playing. They were likely killing time, and seemed to have dropped the pretense of not knowing each other, as they apparently didn’t think they were being observed.

(Heh.)

With one eye, he watched them go about their day and make preparations for whatever they were up to beneath the ocean’s surface, while he tried to pull what information he could on the facility they were heading to. Documentation on Genetics Laboratory G-1 was sparse, and there was almost no public information available on the mainframe. Its actual purpose and speciality beyond “genetics” wasn’t listed anywhere. Not even Darok and Arkous’s clearance papers seemed to list what they were doing. Curious.

There was more traffic in and out of its surface level office, and didn’t seem to be much in the way of passengers or visitors, so that must have meant freight. Slicing into the customs database took more time, and didn’t exactly yield any jackpots of information, but from the amount of equipment and supplies, it seemed to be a research facility of some sort.

Although what stolen Rakatan artifacts, secret labs, and traitors to both the Republic and Empire added up to, he still wasn’t sure.

That same funny feeling was still nagging at him — that he was missing some small, but key piece of information that would tie all these pieces together. If he only had more solid information about Arkous, how he had even crossed paths with a Republic SpecOps officer, just find that intangible something—he was sure all the puzzle pieces would click into place.

His camera snooping finally failed him near the end of the day, as both Darok and Arkous settled in a place that was practically in a blind spot to the cameras, a far corner of a cafe in a busy section of the plaza. It was impossible to tell if the action had been deliberate, but considering they had been in plain sight of the cameras for the rest of the day, it was probably just dumb luck. Either way, it still meant he had to abandon the anonymity of the office if he were to continue his surveillance.

Sunsets on Manaan always had an air of mystique about them. A briny tang carried on a soft ocean breeze. The gentle lapping of waves against the plaza’s platform had a calming and almost hypnotic effect that seemed to draw the surface dwellers out in droves. Large crowds packed the plaza, taking to the cafes and outdoor restaurants as they tried to sneak in one last meal and the peaceful atmosphere before dusk set in. There was basically no nightlife to speak of, at least up on the surface. Rowdy revelry from off-worlders wasn’t exactly something the government wanted to encourage, so most everyone wrapped up their business by dark and headed back to their rooms.

Theron picked a table where he couldn’t immediately be spotted by his quarry, but could still make them out. Luckily, this cafe had its menu on a ridiculously large datapad that he could hide behind if it seemed like they were looking in his direction, but so far, he hadn’t had to deploy that flimsy excuse for a disguise. 

Despite their unintentional evasion of the cameras, amongst the backdrop of the crowd, they stood out like a sore thumb. Darok’s massive size and pale bald head were immediately recognizable and made an almost hilarious counterpoint to Arkous’s more slim figure and crimson skin. The big man’s wide shoulders seemed like they barely fit the small table the two conspirators had taken for their evening meal, and his massive, beefy hands nearly dwarfed a small cup of tea. Darok seemed distinctly uncomfortable as he tried to drink from the tiny cup without slurping. His Sith co-conspirator meanwhile seemed perfectly at home, somehow taking up more room than his large companion, like he was used to stretching out and taking up as much space as physically possible.

If Theron’d had more time to set up proper surveillance, he could have maybe installed a listening device near their table, so he could make out whatever they were talking about. From this distance, he couldn’t even read their lips without getting close enough to do so could risk tipping them off to his presence. So unfortunately for now, he would have to watch from afar, keeping his attention split between his quarry and his surroundings, and hope they wouldn’t slip his surveillance net again. 

Not that either of them could go very far, considering the physical limitations of the plaza, but he wanted to be sure there weren’t any other actors in whatever game these two were playing.

The streetlights were just beginning to click on, and the weight of dusk settling across the sky when something… something felt. Off. Not that nagging missing puzzle piece that had plagued him since this entire thing started — no. This was that uncomfortable itch that would take up residence at the base of his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It was a feeling that any good operative was well-attuned to.

He was being watched.

Theron made a show of pretending to wipe invisible droplets of sea mist from the screen of the cafe’s giant datapad menu as a cover while he glanced around. Darok and Arkous were finishing whatever amounted to an extravagant meal at this little ocean-side cafe, and the other patrons were just as oblivious to him. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, but his ruse with the menu would be too awkward to keep up to glance in that direction. So he set it down and reached for his cup of caf as if he were settling in to savor the evening ambiance. The sip of hot liquid gave him an excuse to turn his head as he caught the flutter of a cape in the alleyway tucked just to the right of the cafe. 

It was only a glance, but that was enough for him to just be able to make out the shape of a caped figure — humanoid, possibly female. A hood obscured the figure's features, but he could just make out a bright flash of blonde hair. That they were skulking in an alleyway automatically gave them an air of suspicion. But the closer that Theron observed them—no, definitely a her, he could see that her focus was on the cafe. Or in fact… the exact same table that he’d been observing.

This woman was also tailing Darok and Arkous too—or worse—was working with them.

The figure straightened, like a marionette on a string, and her head snapped in his direction. For a moment, Theron found himself meeting the unearthly yellow gaze of a Sith, who stared right back at him. 

For the space of a breath, neither of them moved, perhaps both of them just as surprised to see the other. Then the bustle of the crowd broke the impromptu staring contest, and Theron seized the moment to melt into an opening in the throng. With almost practiced ease, he let the crowd sweep him away like he was just another wave crashing against the platform of the plaza. Just like the ocean currents, he didn’t fight the motion of the crowd, and let it carry him along until he could circle around to get a better vantage point on the woman in the alleyway.

He ignored the jostling of the strangers, every sense on alert now. He couldn’t afford to risk any confrontation, not without potentially tipping Darok and Arkous off to his presence and risking the entire investigation. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded a bit too much like Jonas Balkar, also reminded him that right now, to not wade too far into these unknown waters. He was here with no backup, and the only person who knew where he was or what he was up to wouldn’t even be aware that he needed help until it was too late.

Right now, Theron was alone — just like he always had been.

By the time he reached the alleyway, the Sith was gone. He looked back to where he’d been sitting and spied another flutter of of a cape at the menu and cup of caf he’d abandoned.

A curse slipped loose as he realized that he’d now picked up a tail of his own. Making a split-second decision, as he was always forced to do when he was out on his own like this, and let himself get carried back off into the crowd. Away from Darok, away from Arkous, and most importantly, away from this mysterious new Sith.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Danse Macabre

[Commission]

[taegularities]

🤍🫂🌹

[cowboy-robooty]

everyday im fighting for my life because i always hate the sex parts of my gay porn comics

[savage-rhi]

Fuschia/Magenta?

[spookyxsprinkles]

if there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then i’ll follow you into the dark [chapter 1/?]

hayakawa aki × shy fiend f!reader

-> safe for work (for now) // 4.9k words // AO3. -> warnings: smoking, blood, cheesy, friendship, romance, discrimination, fluff, angst, pining that may or may not be mutual, soft aki, protective aki, eventual smut, eventual romance, canon divergent, fic will get into darker topics as the story progresses but i'll update the warnings as i go, chainsaw man part 1 spoilers.

Devil hunters use devils to kill devils.

The irony was never lost on you. This was a use or get used world, after all.

In the distance, your ears picked up the sounds of a fight. Explosions, rubble falling, metal crunching. It sounded far enough away for you not to worry about closing the convenience store early (not that your boss would’ve let you), but it was still close enough for you to stay alert as you stood on a flipped milk crate, stocking the fridge. The situation seemed to have settled by the time you finished and you allowed yourself to relax.

You were behind the counter reading a romance novel when the smell of dust and blood assaulted your nose, making you look up at the source. The sliding doors let out a melodic chime as a tall man with a top knot dressed in a black suit entered the store, walking straight for the freezers in the back. Your eyes stayed glued to the sword strapped to his back until he was no longer visible from where you stood.

You took a sip from your water bottle before returning your attention back to the book in front of you. Two pages later, you realize you weren’t actually processing the words on the page and, with a sigh, you flip back to try again. You struggled reading the same paragraph over and over until the sound of aluminum cans clanking against the counter top startled you. The man with a top knot (with a sword strapped to his back) had placed canned coffees and an apple in front of you.

“Cigarettes, too.”

Before he could finish pulling out his wallet, you set a white box down on the counter between the two of you. He stared down at the box of Mevius One KS cigarettes with a furrow in his brow and his eyes moved to meet your own.

“I-I have a good nose.” You anxiously look away from him and quickly scan his items, placing them neatly in a plastic bag. “That’ll be ¥4,570.74.”

The man eyed you for a moment, as if studying you, then pulled out his card to insert it into the machine until he noticed a sign with messy handwriting stating that the card machine was out of order. He returned his card back into it’s place in his wallet before pulling out cash and placing it into your outreached hand, his cold fingers brushing against yours as he did so.

“You’re good,” he says quietly.

You suck in a breath at his comment and nod, feeling unsure of how else to respond so you simply thank him for shopping at the convenience store and to have a nice day. You watch his dark form disappear down the street before letting out a sigh of relief as you adjusted the crochet beanie on your head.

+

Two or three times a week, he would come in to buy canned coffee and cigarettes. The two of you never spoke much beyond pleasantries. (“hello,” “good afternoon,” “have a nice day,” “you too.”)

Currently, he was in the back of the store by the freezers. You tried to keep your attention on your book as you absent-mindedly fidgeted with the sleeve of your over-sized cardigan.

It had been a few short months since you started working here, since you first noticed him. The convenience store wasn’t the closest one to the Public Safety office in Tokyo, but it was still frequented daily by people who worked there, including other devil hunters.

Every now and then you’d stop seeing a face come by the shop and determined that they must have been killed on the job. It wasn’t a secret that devil hunters didn’t have very long lifespans, it was the nature of the job. However, you recently found yourself feeling relieved whenever he stepped over the threshold of the sliding glass doors and greeted you in return.

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt that way. He was obviously attractive, though you doubted that was reason for your feelings.

Still, relieved as you may be, you found it difficult to focus whenever the two of you shared the same four walls.

To you, devils had an acrid smell. The stronger the devil, the more offensive the smell was. You were sure the devil hunter was human, but the scents that lingered on him were the strongest you had smelled in quite a while. The smell was stronger on him than it was on most of the devil hunters you encountered.

He must have worked closely with strong devils and the thought of that frightened you. You once heard a group of devil hunters mention a special division in Public Safety that made devils work for them without free will.

You cautiously cast glance his way as he flipped through a magazine, and you wondered if this devil hunter (your devil hunter) was involved with something as awful as that.

+

By now, he must have noticed the way you always avoided eye contact with him. You're sure of it.

You try to read but you simply could not focus and you found yourself looking in his direction every few minutes. He walked around the shop, aimlessly browsing, rather than going straight for what he came for like he usually did. You’re tempted by the opportunity to strike up a conversation with him, to get to know him a little (for better or worse), but you bite your tongue.

You wouldn’t know what to say. The majority of your social skills were learnt through reading books.

You notice that sometimes, when the store gets empty, he stares at you for a few moments, as if he wants to say something, before thinking better of it and exiting the store, leaving you to watch him from behind.

+

You felt your hands shaking more than they usually did whenever he was around. You hoped he didn't notice, though when you looked up at him, you could see him watching you. Your eyes briefly look over at the sword on his back before returning your attention back to the monitor and reading him his total.

You took his money and shakily hand him the receipt, which he takes. You quickly look away and feel his lingering gaze, followed by the small intake of breath. You get the impression that he's about to say something.

You do your best to look busy organizing your space behind the counter. Your hands were trembling, causing you to knock over a candy display. Rolls of mints clattered around your boots and you bend over to pick them up.

You hear the chiming of the sliding doors as they opened and closed and you peeked over the counter to see that he was gone.

+

A few days later, you’re stocking the freezer with drinks. Despite wearing your cardigan and beanie, you shivered as you struggled to reach the top shelves. You forgot to grab the milk crate from behind the counter to help you reach higher, but with the devil hunter in the store earlier than usual, you decided to quickly wrap up stocking so that you could get back to the counter.

Large, pale hands grasp the can from your hand, making you flinch in surprise. You look over your shoulder and see the devil hunter helping you place the remaining drinks on the top shelf. You swallow hard and avert your eyes from him.

“Thank you...” He nodded then went on his way to continued his shopping. You walk back to the register to wait for him. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t dare look up away from the register you were pretending to clean. Your head hurt from overthinking.

You checked out his items when he brought them over to you, faster than you usually did. You were eager for him to leave so that you could focus on anything other than him right now.

"A box of Mevius One KS, please."

You were too distracted with your own thoughts that you forgot to give him his cigarettes. You apologize and turn in a hurry to reach for them on the shelf, stepping onto the milk crate, but in your haste you lost your balance. You yelped as you fell onto the cold tile, boxes of cigarettes raining down on your head.

The next thing you knew, he’s behind the counter kneeling beside you, scanning you for any injuries before returning his gaze to yours.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but notice the concern in his voice. It was a stark contrast to the stoicism he usually exuded whenever he was in the store.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you looked up at him. You look away again, sitting up despite your butt aching from the fall. You ran a nervous hand through your hair and realized your beanie had fallen off and the devil hunter was staring—right at the pair of fluffy ears on your head.

“You’re…” he pauses, looking at you in a way that was hard to read.

You panicked. You grabbed your beanie from the floor, clumsily hopped over the counter, knocking over the candy display in the process as you ran out of the store.

“Wait! Come back!”

He continued to call out after you, his voice growing more and more distant until you could no longer make out the individual words. Your feet feel like they’re going to give out from underneath you as you sprint along the sidewalk hoping to never see him away.

+

The following day was your day off, but your boss called you in. He fired you for leaving the store unattended and withheld your final paycheck. When you timidly tried to stand up for yourself, telling him that he couldn’t do that, he said he could because you had no human rights as a fiend.

There was nothing you could do about it.

You managed to find another job in a grocery store on the other side of town. It was farther away from your home, but safer since it lessened the risk of running into the same devil hunter again.

A few weeks later, you were working the register when you recognized his scent. Your eyes widened in horror when you realized he had found you. The two of you stared at each other.

His expression was stern and focused. There’s no trace of the gentleness he’d shown last time. A depressing reminder that this man wasn’t just a man and you weren’t just a woman.

He was here to kill you, or worse.

You were frozen in place. It’s only when he begins to approach you that you remember to breathe. You trembled fearfully as he stood in front of you.

“Hey—”

“P-Please don’t hurt me,” you sputtered out from behind the register.

His expression softens, but his eyes are steady, resolute. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying to convey some sort of message to you.

“I’m not going to kill you, don’t worry,” he replies calmly. “I’m not here to harm you in any way.”

"But you're a devil hunter... are you here to capture me and force me to work for Public Safety?"

"No."

You don’t believe him and flinch away when he pulls something from his inner suit pocket.

An envelope.

"I realized you were probably scared of being hunted, so I didn’t chase you. I went looking for you back at the convenience store the next day. Your boss said you were fired. I found out he illegally withheld your final paycheck, so I've been searching for you to return it."

Your brows furrow as he places the envelope on the counter. You weren't sure if you could trust him or not. His eyes never left your face as you looked down at the envelope then back up at him. You're not sure what to say or do, but his quiet, patient composure is a stark contrast to his intimidating presence earlier.

He gestures towards the envelope. “You can open it. I’m not trying to force you to join Public Safety. I’m simply making sure you get what’s rightfully yours. You can’t exactly sue him.”

The fact that he seemed so confident that this was going to change everything, that you're going to trust him, sends your brain into overdrive. You don't know what to do.

“Open it," he says quietly. Gently.

You hesitantly reach for the envelope and open it, finding the money your former boss denied you of. You expect him to demand something from you in return, but he quietly walked out of the store.

+

A couple of weeks later, you pick up his scent again as you’re stacking a table with cans on sale. You noticed he was accompanied by two others with inhuman scents. Both strong and familiar smells that you’ve smelled on him in the past. Devils. In the grocery store? Their casual-wear made it seem like they weren’t on official business and based on the way they were acting, the three of them seemed close.

You were nearly finished with stacking the can display, when the devils accidentally ran their cart into the table, knocking over the cans. The devil hunter turned at the sound and came over.

You’re on your knees, picking up cans and placing them back on the table to get them off the floor. The devils snickered, until the devil hunter scolded them.

"Can you two knock it off and help pick those up?"

For some reason that makes you feel embarrassed and you tell him that it’s okay. “It was an accident. Don’t worry, it’s my job to do this...”

His gaze meets yours.

“Hey," he says quietly as he approaches the knocked over cans. After taking a quick glance at you, he begins to clean up the mess while the devils continued to bicker and argue as they stacked, making a competition out of it. The way they carried themselves, like bickering siblings. Not that you would know personally, but it reminded you of siblings in the stories you’ve read. You were wondering how old they were when you realized just how tall the devil hunter actually is; he seems to dwarf the other two.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at the fallen cans lying on the floor. You could feel his eyes on you, looking over you as though checking to see any sign of injuries. You sneak a peek at him, noticing his eyes glancing at the beanie on your head. The beanie that covered your devil ears.

You nod, your timid and nervous nature getting in the way of the moment. He scolds the others and eventually gives them the task of doing the rest of the shopping and offering them a snack reward. They run off excitedly with the cart as he helped you stack the cans. The two of you worked quietly.

He continued helping you for a bit longer, his presence soothing rather than intimidating like before. Then, once you finish stacking the cans on the shelf, he steps back for a moment as though hesitating.

You glance at him nervously, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip. You wondered if it’d be rude to walk away right now. Probably.

"Are you busy after work?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster. You can hear the others laughing in the distance, clearly not paying attention to the conversation taking place.

"Yes," you lied.

He made a face, as if he could easily tell that you had just lied from your tone and nervous body language, but nodded anyways. He offered to buy you something to eat as an apology for the cans and for being the reason you lost your previous job at the convenience store.

"Will I... owe you?"

"No."

You weren’t sure whether or not you should trust him. So far, he seemed to have your best interests in mind, though you knew that could also be a trick. You decided to take a leap of faith.

"Apples. I like apples."

His expression remained stoic and you felt vulnerable under his watchful gaze. People who knew you were not human treated you differently, saw you differently. To them, you felt invisible and disposable. Like something to be used and tossed away when it became too much trouble. The way this devil hunter looked at you now was different than how he used to look at you when he thought you were a human like him, but it also didn’t feel like he thought of you as something less than him. The way he was looking at you right now made you feel like your heart was in your throat. You try to swallow it back down.

“Apples?” He gives a small nod. "Then I'll buy you some.”

+

He buys you a bag of apples.

It becomes routine.

Whenever he stops by the grocery store, he would leave you with a bag of apples.

It was the kindest thing a human had ever done for you.

You craved speaking with him, not really getting much positive attention from others. You felt lonely and wondered if he could tell. You didn't trust humans but you wanted to trust him. You really wanted to trust him.

So, you tried talking to him a little bit. It was awkward and you were as clumsy with your words as you were with your body but in a few months, the two of you were able to have casual small talk. You were so happy to be able to joke with him, even just a little bit.

Your relationship with him grew over time with these simple interactions, these little moments of kindness that he showed you.

This is a stark contrast to the way devil hunters and civilians had treated you in the past. Their disdain for devils would get in the way of your interactions, but you didn’t have that problem with your devil hunter. Seeing him with his devil friends gave you hope.

You looked forward to his visits. His presence is a quiet one. He doesn't expect anything from you, nor does he ask much about you yet here you are, talking almost like... friends.

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Hayakawa." You speak his name for the first time, a bit timidly. You learned it a couple of months ago when he asked to be signed up for the grocery store’s rewards program, but you never said it out loud until now. He had just bought you apples again and you wanted to thank him.

His expression was as gentle as his voice. "Just Aki is fine."

The way he holds himself seems to have loosened up considerably. His shoulders, once stiff and tense, now hang loosely by his sides. He no longer seems quite as intimidating. And you're not sure how exactly, but it almost seems as if his presence becomes... softer.

You nod, feeling your face heat up. "Sorry, th-thank you, Mr. A-Aki..!"

You can't tell if there's a small hint of amusement in his eyes, but then again, he's hard to read.

"Why 'Mr. Aki'?" He asks you curiously.

"Did I say something wrong? Would you prefer a different title?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers.

His eyebrows knit together slightly, as though thinking. “It’s not really needed, I guess. You don't need to call me by any title or honorific. Aki's enough..." He trails off.

"O-Okay... A-Aki..."

You felt your face heat even more from being allowed to refer to him so informally. You have never spoken someone's name so casually before. You distract yourself by stiffly scanning the rest of his items.

He eyes the bag of apples sitting at the end of the register’s moving belt. "Did you want anything else?" He asks, his eyes looking back to you. Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously, knocking your beanie off balance, slightly revealing the bottom of one of your fluffy ears. Aki eyes it, wondering if you’d notice it in time to fix it before anyone else saw it.

"No, no I'm okay! Really! The apples are good. I love apples. I-I... Thank you, Aki."

"Are you sure?" He asks and from the way his eyes were staring at your cheeks you knew he was aware you were feeling very flustered right now.

Aki’s eyes return to your visible ear. You were beginning to feel self-conscious when he leaned over the counter of the register and adjusted your beanie. “Your ear was showing. Sorry.”

You flinched at the sudden contact and as he pulled away, you grabbed his wrists without thinking. You hold onto him for a moment.

The air around you seems to heat up slightly, the intensity of your gaze rather palpable. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the closeness of the situation and notice his eyebrow raising in confusion. He seemed a little surprised by how close you are to him, but he doesn't back away. The sound of someone sneezing snapped you out of your daze and you released him.

You back away from the register, avoiding his eyes and mumbling a series of apologies before making up some excuse about needing to unclog a toilet.

(Aki watched you run off towards the back. He could still feel the warmth of your hands around his wrists as he left the store).

+

The next few times Aki went to the store, you weren’t around. He asks the manager about you and she said that you took a few weeks off.

Aki wondered why and if it had anything to do with what happened.

+

As the days passed, his curiosity over why you weren’t around grew. He doesn’t know if your last encounter with him had anything to do with that, but he hoped that it didn’t.

Your absence brought about a certain sense of loneliness, and though he’s never admitted it to himself, he starts to miss you and the moments that you’d shared with one another.

+

You return a month later, avoiding Aki's eyes as you scanned his items. You were quiet today.

As you return to your old routine, you feel Aki’s eyes trailing you. He keeps to himself and gives you space, but he’s still observant as you worked. Something had changed in your demeanor. You're being polite but distant, keeping your distance from him and not speaking unless absolutely necessary. You’re not like yourself at all. He doesn’t know why and it makes his curiosity grow even more.

"Is something wrong?" He leans forward a bit, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"No..." You say quietly as you handed him his change, careful not to touch him.

The way that you speak makes him certain that there is something wrong; he's known you long enough to tell. Your avoidance is what catches his attention however.

You bag his items and another customer sets their items down on the belt for you to scan. There are plenty of people lining up behind Aki, so you turn your attention to the next customer as you bag his items.

“Is this about me?” He asks, once the customers have cleared the line-up. He’d been watching you interact with the other customers and noticed that you weren't behaving this way with them. Only with him.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, "But you didn't do anything wrong. It's me that's the problem..." Your face burns red. "Please don't worry about it."

"Well, now you've got me worried," he replies, his usual stoic expression giving way to genuine concern. "You've been acting a bit strange. Like something happened."

"It-It doesn't feel appropriate to say, so I'd really rather we didn't get into it." You say as you fiddled with your fingers. "It's nothing worth worrying about. Nothing bad happened and I don't think ill of you, Mr- I mean, Aki."

If he wasn’t so worried, he would've quietly laughed at your little slip up. Aki watches you as you fiddle with your fingers, a bit more concerned now. He doesn’t like not being able to figure out what’s been on your mind this entire time.

You’re keeping things vague, and it’s driving him crazy.

"So, this has nothing to do with our last interaction?" he asks you, genuinely curious.

Your face reddens even more, "It... it may have something to do with that..." You look at the clock on the wall before timidly looking at Aki. "If it's okay with you, can we talk about it after my shift ends in 20 minutes..?"

He nods, still trying not to let any emotion appear on his face.

"That’s fine. I'll be waiting for you outside if that’s okay.”

+

Fifty minutes later, you run outside, panting heavily.

"S-Sorry for taking so long. You didn't have to wait." Your hands squeezed at the strap of your cross body bag.

"I don't mind," he tells you. You notice the way his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking for something in particular. Like he's trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Aki." You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. It all suddenly feels too real and you look down at the ground again. "I-I'm not being weird because you did something wrong. I've been acting strangely because I've recently realized my... my feelings. I'm sorry." You say quietly.

"Ah..." Aki replies softly, his attention glued to you as you nervously chew on your lip. "Can I ask you something?"

You nod. (In your head, you were mentally preparing for him to tell you to work at a different store so that he never has to see your devil face ever again.)

"You said that you've recently realized your feelings, but..." he pauses. "How long have you actually liked me?" There's a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Your ears perk up on your head, shifting your beanie slightly. "Not long! I swear, I promise it's only recent. It wasn't until I went home after the last time I saw you, when you were fixing my hat, that I realized there might be some feelings from my end. I promise I had no ulterior motives during the last ten months."

"Just how recent are we talking?"

"...Actually, maybe I did have an ulterior motive. No, not maybe. I did have one."

Your ears moved under the beanie, knocking it off of your head. Your ears lay flat against your head, like if you did something wrong.

“Really?” Aki raises an eyebrow, "What was your ulterior motive?"

"I…” You spoke quietly while staring down at his shoes. “I wanted to be your friend."

There’s a long moment of silence.

“...That’s an ulterior motive?” he asks, a hint of amusement returning to his voice. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

"Of course it is..! It was something I wanted that you didn't know I wanted. That's the definition, right?" Your face is red and your ears twitch but remain flat. "You were always so kind to me and whenever I saw you and Power and Denji behaving so familiar with each other I-I wanted that too." Your voice cracked and your eyes welled with tears.

Aki’s kindness meant the world to you and you wanted to be a part of his world, too.

He picked your beanie up off of the ground and dusted it off before placing it back on your head, carefully covering your ears for you.

“It is technically an ulterior motive,” Aki admits. He looks away from your eyes, to the ground between the two of you. “Is that really the main reason you kept talking to me?”

You nodded while trying to make yourself look at his face,

"I like you, in both senses of the word, but the platonic meaning is what I value the most. You've treated me with kindness and patience, even when I pretended to act like I was bad at my job just so I could have a few extra seconds of time with you."

Aki's expression softens.

“Do you want to come over my place for dinner?”

“Huh!?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at his sudden question, “Where did that come from?”

“Denji and Power will be there, too...” He trailed off.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for the offer, though. I appreciate it but I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing.”

He walks you to his car and when he unlocks it, you open the door to the backseat. He says you could sit up front if you wanted to. So you do. He helps secure your seat belt since you weren’t doing it quite right.

“Sorry. I’ve never used a seat belt before.”

“Never?” He asks as he maneuvers the car around the parking lot.

“Never.”

He stops, waiting for a chance to safely enter the street and takes that moment to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You can open the window, if you want.”

Your ears perk up, pushing the beanie off of your head and onto your lap. Aki tells you which button to press and soon enough, your window was all the way down.

“Thank you, Aki.”

He nods, making a noise of acknowledgment as he turned the car onto the street. You stuck your head out the window to feel the wind whipping at your grinning face. And as Aki drove the two of you to his home, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

[daz4i]

btw with all my posts abt dazai surviving i do think it will take at least a few more chapters until that's revealed. maybe we'll get a continuation of chuuya's storyline but dazai needs to stay dead for a few more chapters for the pacing of the story as a whole (as frustrating as it is for those following it monthly)

[mejomonster]

To get good at telling stories... writing stories... one must... practice by writing stories ;-;

[separatist-apologist]

I LIKE MY MEN WET, PATHETIC AND STUPID you know me too well! I cannot wait for another installation of ‘why don’t these idiots realise they actually love each other beneath their layers of hate and insecurity in this mysterious land full of old creepy royals’ !!!! 💗

He does something that's just so, "oh my god you WET MOP"

[birlwrites]

lachrimae is now almost as long as rainfall which is a) a weird thought and b) i just registered that both their titles are about water, which is something i genuinely had not realized before typing this post

[missmorwen]

Soooo, I have some writing news for my readers. The good news is that I have spend several hours today working on one of my WIPs and I am so hyped to work on it again after a long hiatus.

The bad news is that it's not the WIP you want me to work on. It's the sequel to I Come With Knives. The WIP that has been hibernating for four years this month ¯\_ (ツ) _/¯

[synonymroll648]

⚙️⚙️⚙️

And then Dex tries to climb under his covers as quietly as he can and curls up on his side, so he can fake being asleep if his mom pops in to check on him. (She’s a light sleeper, which she’s jokingly coined as her proof that she married into the Dizznee family instead of being born into it.) 

[starlooove]

Reading abo in batfam is so funny bc it’s like. U could just be writing about the women. U could just be writing about the girls. U shaped white boy 3’s entire personality around being an omega and the harassment that comes with it and Steph is there….making waffles. And cass is there saying….’little brother hurt. Do better’ to everyone else. Ok

[shidoukanae]

*rereads Paris and Helene's second meeting for the nth time*

me every goddamn time: THEY HAVE SO MUCH CHEMISTRY HOW THE FUCK DO THEY HAVE THIS MUCH CHEMISTRY

It's so so so SO fun watching this entire meeting and how they both seem to constantly be in a little dance of sorts wherein Paris openly declares his interest in her and Helene keeps shutting him down ("You should come to Kylon. We won't overwork you the way your family does" -> "I don't have time to indulge in a life with people who don't think" -> "well that's good because i think about you so much i can't sleep"-> "and? get to the point already". like jfc he's not fucking vague about this At All).

But the best part is, for offstandish and disinterested as Helene is towards Paris (with her words cold and blunt towards him), it's really hard to deny that there isn't some interest on her part without there really being interest on her part (which is. confusing i know but. in context. oh. my god. she's a queerplatonic icon around Paris and i adore her for it)

My favorite thing to see in this scene is the way Paris reaches for Helene's face, casually brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek and through her hair (while commenting on how being this close to her makes his instincts spike with unease), and the moment Helene downs him she does the same exact gesture to him, lifting up his chin and brushing the back of her fingers against his face similarly. Which. Wow. I need more female antagonists to do this shit it is literally so cool to see.

Also the way Helene and Paris constantly are gauging each other is so neat. The way Helene tells Paris to "not long for what he can't have" (i.e. herself) is so neat. The way Paris is clear about his interest in Helene and she in turn matches that interest by toying with him in a way she's done with no one else in the cast is just. there is sooooo much there between them and i greatly enjoy whatever the fuck kind of chemistry it is they share because it is literally the epitome of what i crave in ships

[alittleemo]

forget my school course or finishing putts should i watch the first 1/2 of brokeback mountain instead of going to bed tn. forget work in the morning it may need to happen.

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️