#Ac freedom cry

[peridot-tears]

"AC Rogue is the most underrated and shortest game." Sir, do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, AC Freedom Cry.

[happymeishappylife]

You can read my reviews of these here.

[qbert-curse]

"I have killed many men on principle, but never have I wanted one to suffer as much as you--to understand what it is to gasp and beg for your life, like the innocents you drowned."

[sc4llywag]

Nothing Less | An Edwalé fanfiction

Summary : Edward and Adéwalé chat on their newly stolen ship, the Jackdaw, and head back to Nassau for a quiet night of drinking and thoughts.

Word Count : 1036

Pairing : Edward Kenway/Adéwalé

Notes : This was a cute request from a commenter from this post I did a while back. Thank you so much for requesting! I've really wanted to rewrite this scene, it turned out pretty good in my eyes :)

Adéwalé's voice rang out into the crew's ears as they scurried around the newly stolen ship.

Edward laid his hands onto the wheel of the ship as Adéwalé stepped up onto the main deck, "I've made my choice Adé. I'm calling her the Jackdaw. A sly bird I loved as a child back in Swansea." His eyes glazed over the horizon of water in front of the ship as its name rang out in Adé's ears.

"A dark little creature, no?" Edward looked at the man now, one hand still clung onto the wheel, "It didn't rub you wrong when I took this brig as mine own?" Adé chuckled as he approached the adventurous pirate, "It was a sort of rub I have learned to enjoy. Sailing among faces of such...fairness." His head tilting with some snark, implying a dark story behind the man.

Edward dipped his head down, turning away to look at the crew, "It's true. Most of these men wouldn't accept you as a Captain." Adé watched the crew as well when Edward paused, "So what fair role would compliment such...unfairness?" His tone mimicking the same as Adéwalé's. Adé paused and stepped further away from Edward to lean against the railings, "I'll be your quartermaster, nothing less."

Edward furrowed his brow, squeezing his hand to the wheel still, "Being anything more wouldn't fancy you, would it?" Adé shifted against the rails, smirking at the comment, "Experience is important I suppose." Edward turned away, regretting his odd push for flirtatious comments, "But, you seem to be a fair captain. I'll be your quartermaster aye, perhaps more, if you'll have me." Edward smiled and grasped the wheel with both hands now, "Alright. And as quartermaster, have you any immediate counsel for this tyro-captain?" Adé turned and placed his rough hands against the railings, "Rest and repast would do us good before Nassau." Edward nodded to himself as he watched Adé's movements, "Water for drinking, hunting for food and repairs." Edward mused, watching the spray of the sea, "A break from the adventures would help. Let's find somewhere to drop anchor."

Adé kept his word, the counsel he requested of Edward was fair. They rested silently in the warm night of Nassau after picking up resources and repairing certain inconsistencies on the Jackdaw.

In Edward's eyes, their choice of rest and leisure was always to be the tavern their mates flaunted and threw away all their money away at. Only for rum and women, of course. Perfect for a nice night of relaxation.

As the crew drank and sang shanties on the deck just in range of the inn, Edward and Adé reminisced on their recent adventures. The Captain swirled his shot glass in his hand as he watched the tight nit crew sing and dance on the tavern deck, "Ruffians they are, hm?" Adéwalé's voice rolled thickly off his tongue as Edward stared down at him. Adé had plopped himself into a rickety white chair with a map laying in front of him on a small round table. Edward leaned back against the inn's outer walls, tipping his head back as he finished his shot, "Aye, they are a wild lot, but useful none the less..." He paused and looked out to the sea that kissed the horizon closely, "...and crazy to the boot." Adéwalé chuckled, turning his head to gaze at Edward's face, studying its fairness and the blue eyes that nearly gleamed in the darkness, "I'd trust you to take care of the crew after their drunken adventures." Edward nodded, he'd be responsible for some of the crew getting into fights if not housed due to their troublesome addictions.

Adéwalé stood and gathered his things, approaching the inn silently, "Take care of yourself Edward." He nodded and watched Adé retract into the inn for rest. Edward wanted to sleep but couldn't shake the odd rush of wanting for alcohol, speeding up the tavern stairs before it closed out for the night. Nassau wasn't famous for closing their taverns with how many drunks would come and go for drinks and a night out. So Edward of course, drank. He drank until he couldn't feel the dizziness in his head and the slight squeeze of his armaments around his body.

He couldn't remember the feeling after that, waking up in a bent-over tree and bottles of hard liquor beneath him. Adé stood next to the man, shaking his head at the sight, "I take it you didn't fully understand my words last night?" Edward lifted off of the tree, slamming his boots onto the ground and squeezing his eyes shut as the hangover set in. He quickly stumbled, leaning onto Adé for support, almost being rejected and left on the grass until he made some sense of himself. But Adé wasn't a cruel man.

The quartermaster carried him through the crowds of people in Nassau, his front half hanging over Adé's shoulder and legs swinging behind his back. Edward fluttered his eyes open and became slightly aware of his current situation, head pounding from the blood rushing to it in his upside down position. He groaned and fiddled with his sleeves which were pulled past his elbows uncomfortably, "Don't worry Captain, the ship isn't far." Adé grasped Edward upward, his grip almost loosening when Edward's would wiggle his body in discomfort. He continued towards the Jackdaw anyway.

Adé reached the ship and, sadly, struggled to push open the Captain's cabin doors with the hungover man between one of his arms. Once he got in he gently put Edward down into the cushioned chair at his desk, ready to leave the man and retrieve the rest of the crew, with less care of course. Edward mumbled again, opening his eyes to Adéwalé hovering over him as he placed him down, "Are you leavin' me now?" Adé just smiled and shook his head as he left the drunken Captain to his quarters, turning to the doors to retrieve the rest of the crew, "I'll be back captain." And that's all he left the hungover man with, cramming his head into his arms as his headache set in further with red tinting his cheeks.

[anti-shakespeare]

I'm playing AC Freedom Cry and I'm so conflicted, I love the idea and Adéwalé but the game is so small, kinda unfinished and practically a DLC and that makes me sad.

[rambroplays]

Adewale's Stealth Night Mission Capture Slave Ship Experto Crede | AC Fr...

[hauntingblue]

BACK TO ONE PIECE LETSGOOOOO

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

My gender complex goes back 3 generations and through two queer women and their family trauma, I feel like I know what I'm talking about. We know a thing or two because we've seen a thing or two.

[gumpistol]

tag drop p.2

[antebunny]

go away

After Bruce Wayne dies, it only takes Tim about three weeks to show up on Dick Grayson’s doorstep with a 3-ring binder full of evidence. He runs a finger along the top metal ring of the binder over and over as he waits for a response to the doorbell. All at once he feels thirteen years old again, clutching months of painstakingly collected notes written up neatly and sorted into sections. Dick never read any of it, yet Tim did it all again. Had his photos developed for ease of viewing access, included sources for all of his claims, stuck to his main points for clarity’s sake but has pages and pages of extra information in the back of the binder for when–if–Dick decides to give his idea a thorough look. 

But Tim is seventeen years old now, old enough to know where he went wrong the first time. Yesterday he spent hours coming up with argument after argument, approach after approach, to get through to Dick. Mr. Grayson, I’m so sorry for your loss. He’s probably tired of hearing that. Mr. Grayson, I have something I think you’ll want to see. Too quick to the point. If he doesn’t recognize Tim, maybe he’ll try Mr. Grayson, I know about your night life and I want to help. If he does, then maybe Mr. Grayson, I want to say I’m sorry about last time, but this isn’t like last time, I swear–

The door opens. Tim knows that it’s Dick by the smell. Sweat, unwashed clothes, and misery. How like last time. Dick looks like the epitome of grief, which is to say, not like himself. Dick Grayson is a creature of happiness by nature, of high-flying freedom, of beloved family and friends, a picture-perfect cover boy, always adored, always with a beautiful redhead, Batgirl or Starfire or Arsenal, yes Tim knows his type, always kind, always charming, always happy to be there. But Tim only ever seems to know him in these liminal states of horrible tragedy. 

Worst of all, Tim can’t quite tell if Dick recognizes him. 

“Mr. Grayson,” he begins, heart pounding so loudly he cannot hear himself speak, “I don’t think Mr. Wayne is dead.”

For a moment longer than Tim’s entire lifespan, Dick just stares at him. Blue eyes hazy and unfocused. One hand on the doorframe, one hand dragging through the stubble growing on his half-shaved jaw. He’s wearing an AC/DC shirt. Given Dick’s fashion tastes (bright colors) and Bruce Wayne’s music tastes, neither of which Tim should know, he is 98% certain that the AC/DC shirt used to belong to Bruce Wayne. 

When Dick finally speaks, his voice sounds like the death of all joy. 

“How many family members do I have to lose before you let me grieve in peace?”

Tim’s pounding heartbeat becomes a deafening white noise as Dick’s question pangs around his chest. His eyes sting so fiercly that Tim knows it is as visible as Dick’s misery. Nevertheless, he persists, if only for Bruce Wayne. No one else will save him if not for Tim. So even though his hero thinks Tim is a creepy little stalker with the unbelievable audacity to swagger into Dick’s life and tell him how to fix it, well. He’s not wrong, is he? What does it matter if Tim once upon a time dreamed of more? Saving Bruce Wayne is far more important than Tim’s nonexistent chances of becoming friends with Nightwing. 

“Jason came back.” Tim’s chin, lifted stubbornly, trembles. 

Dick’s face clouds over with a rage so terrible that Tim sincerely believes he’s about to get punched by Nightwing. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Tim deserves it, doesn’t he? Intruding on a stranger’s grief like this is probably a punchable offense. He’ll bear it all if only Dick listens, but it looks like he managed to blow it in the span of two sentences. 

In the end, though Dick’s hands curl into fists and his shoulders shake like traintracks, he turns his head at the last second and rests his forehead on the doorframe. Tears streak down his perfect jawline. Watching Dick Grayson cry is like watching Atlantis sink. It’s like watching the Mona Lisa go up in flames. Tim knows stuff like this is why Dick treats him like a celebrity-obsessed stalker living in a weird fantasy world where he’s a part of the Wayne family. He knows it’s why Dick hates him. Tim still can’t help that it’s captivating to watch.

“Go away,” Dick begs.

Tim has never felt more like the scum of the earth, yet still he’d persist if he thought there was a chance of getting Nightwing to listen to him. But there isn’t. So Tim, as lonely, rejected, unworthy and fucking correct as he is, sees himself out of the apartment building.

Two weeks later, he catches a flight to Lahore.

[peridot-tears]

Adéwalé and Ratohnhaké:ton are my favorite gentle giants.

[stclaretarot]

PICK A CARD ⭒ a message meant to find you you right now?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards pulled · knight of cups, five of pentacles, the lovers, ten of pentacles, king of cups. 

channelled songs · blue by beyoncé & blue ivy. like it like that by pip millett. bigger by beyoncé. between the bars by eliott smith.

my dear group one  ♡ brace yourself, dear, because love is closer to you than you think! it is closer to you than you could ever imagine! 

not only is it closer to you in the span of time, but physically closer to you, as your next love may be someone who is around you. this is someone who you may not necessarily be friends with or even talk to, but who you share a schedule with. for example, someone you commute with or see at the coffee shop or see at the gym. 

whatever the specifics, this seems to be someone who you have not really paid much attention to or thought of as a romantic prospect. 

however, very soon, things are going to change. and they are going to change for the better!

GROUP TWO

cards pulled · eight of swords, page of pentacles, the hierophant, the emperor, seven of pentacles.

channelled songs · filter theory by coa white. alive by shinee. get back by pop smoke. walk by nct 127. 

my dear group two  ♡ what you must know, my dear, is that your anxiety is stopping you from seeing your way out of your current situation. you are a bird in a cage, the cagedoor is wide open, and you want to be free but you are afraid of what freedom would be like. 

you are stuck. you are stagnant. you are afraid to take a step forward and unwilling to accept your life for what it is. 

it’s kind of weird becauseyou want things to happen in your life, to change,  but… at the same time… you have no idea what you want out of life. you have no idea what exactly in your life you want to change. 

it’s time to sit down and do some introspection.

GROUP THREE

cards pulled · page of cups, the lovers, four of swords, page of swords, king of pentacles.

channelled songs · wait for it from hamilton. blue by taemin. honey - remix by mariah carey & mase. youngblood by 5 seconds of summer.

my dear group three ♡ what you must know is that soon you will find out why things have turned out the way that they have. why things have fallen apart. why things have not worked out before, or worked out in the way you had hoped. especially where love and work is concerned. 

a better lover or business partner is coming towards you. this is a lover who can actually meet your needs in all the ways you have desired. or this is a business partner/job opportunity who will actually be paying you what you deserve.

for some, it is a combination of both, as these areas of your life will be blooming. wait for it! just a little longer!

GROUP FOUR

cards pulled · ten of cups, king of pentacles, knight of pentacles, ace of pentacles, four of wands.

channelled songs · desperado by rihanna. cry baby by megan thee stallion. punch and judy by elliott smith. good luck, babe! by chappell roan.

my dear group four  ♡ what you must know right now is that all that glitters is not gold. things are not as good as they seem, and people you are exhausting yourself for would never in their life do the same for you. 

you have idealised or romanticised a certain relationship, especially a familial relationship, and just accepted that it is normal for you to put everything you have into it. 

but what about yourself? you can only give so much to othes, before it becomes detrimental to yourself and your health. it is time to start doing more for yourself. to take care of yourself. to celebrate yourself. and, more than that, to spoil yourself. 

[qbert-curse]

Freedom Cry should've been like 10 hours longer. Let me stab more slavers with a machete

[amjad-danaf99]

In the heart of war-torn Gaza, where devastation and loss have become daily realities, lies the poignant story of Amjad Danaf and his family. Amid relentless airstrikes,And it wasn’t just my home that was destroyed. Years of effort and dedication were wasted in moments, and here I am standing in the ruins of my home, as I stand in the ruins of my life, trying to collect the remains of my dreams and memories. This house was a source of safety for me and my family, but the war left us nothing, and we face an ambiguous and difficult future.

Now, after all this destruction, my family and I live as displaced people, homeless and unemployed, with no clear future for us. Every day is a struggle to find food for my family, who have been deprived of every chance at a normal life by this war. Once upon a time, we lived in Gaza, in northern Gaza, where we had a home, a life,But now, after being displaced more than nine times, we find ourselves in the refugee camps in Deir al-Balah, and the war has stripped us of everything: our homeland, our security, and our future. Our daily lives have become a constant search for basic necessities, a far cry from the life we ​​knew before.

The dreams I had for my family now seem like distant memories, overshadowed by the relentless challenges of survival. Each day brings new doubts, as we navigate this harsh new reality, clinging to the hope that one day we may be able to rebuild what we have lost.We urgently call on everyone who stands in solidarity with us, and every supporter, to help save what remains of our lives. Your help, even in small ways, can make a big difference in helping us rebuild and restore our broken world. Rebuilding seems like an insurmountable task, but with your help, we can begin to piece together what we have lost. Your contributions, no matter how small, can provide the foundation we need to start over, and provide hope and a chance for a better future for our family. Your solidarity means the world to us as we face these difficult times.

Thank you for your compassion, your time, and your commitment to freedom and justice.

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[harunayuuka2060]

Yandere Malleus: Do you know? It's the mating season for us dragons.

MC: I so don't need to know that.

Yandere Malleus: *chuckles* *then sexily smirks* Worry not.

Yandere Malleus: I'll be patient.

MC: ...

MC: I think dropping here would be worth it.

Yandere Malleus: I told you. There's a net below.

MC: Can we go back to the ground? Please? *on the verge of crying*

Yandere Malleus: *chuckles because they look funny*

Vil: ...

Vil: That Malleus is acting more like Leona.

Leona: Huh?

Malleus: ...

Ace: This is what I understand in this situation so far. The Prefect has been teleported somewhere with a sexually frustrated Malleus.

Ace: Who's trying to seduce them.

Deuce: *whacks his head*

Ace: What?! I'm not wrong!

Cater: Acey, you're not helping.

Lilia: Yes. Especially when our Malleus is dying of jealousy here.

Malleus: ...

Vil: I could see that.

Leona: I see nothing.

Lilia: Do you want to see what I mean?

Leona: ...

Leona: No.

MC: *relieved that they're on the ground again*

Yandere Malleus: What do you want to do now with your little freedom?

MC: ...

MC: I want to say "run", but I'm too unmotivated to do that.

Yandere Malleus: If you keep thinking that way, we will not have any problem.

MC: Uh-huh. Or you might not know that I'm just manipulating you to let your guard down-

Yandere Malleus: *picks them up*

MC: I'M JUST JOKING!

Silver: This is bad. The Prefect is getting comfortable with the other Malleus.

Silver: They might not come back at this point.

Sebek: Silver, you- Why did you have to say that?!

Silver: Huh?

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Not coming back?

Lilia: Malleus, calm down.

[yunimayie]

𝜗𝜚 (HIS) ONLY

ft. dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa x fem!reader ; how they spend their december with you. cws; tooth rotting fluff, not edited, may be ooc.

love, runi. dear gosh its been so long since ive written 😭... i have a nsfw draft in the works, but i was feeling fluff atm 🙂‍↕️💗. i hope i did the boys justice 😭😭 and it doesnt seem too ooc :(. additionally, i don't think i'm going to disclose the actual reason for being offline for so long. am i sorry for deactivating? nah...

the 24th — his hands ran cold, puffs of icy air battling the hot cry of warmth. he could feel the ache in his bones, yearning for the fire a room away. "isn't it cold?" you ask dazai, who was sitting upright on the edge of your shared futon. "it is," he answers, a whisper so loud, even the wind howls with it. you shift away, holding the large coze of your blanket up high, a cave forming in mere seconds. "then get in." you say with a tired face, "i'm cold too, 'samu." warm me up, he almost missed. without protest, he curls up into your arms—embrace heating the ac he calls his blood. "can't sleep?" you ask the obvious, knowing he appreciated the sentiment anyways. "no." you can feel the small shake his head makes, as slow as a toddler may stand to understand physics, dazai is the same with himself.

it was confusing, all energy he focuses on you, is forced back on him with a stern lecture from you. every bicker and mumbles of defeat helps see the purpose of your intentions. "how are you going to take care of me, when you can't take care of yourself?" a question he could argue with, but deep down—he'd ponder the same question in his head. if he took care of himself, it'd make you happy, and him feeling unsure. if he took care of you, it'd make him happy, at the cost of your disappointment with him. take care of yourself, osamu. you'd always cry sheep as you comforted him. the same building resentment of having his freedom forced onto a schedule quietly turned into appreciation for your efforts.

you didn't leave him. didn't need to help him. you did anyways, the warm flutter he always feels whenever his hand grazes yours or the accidental eye contact throughout the day, was already telling enough. dazai wasn't obligated to show any gratefulness, and neither were you—yet you still did it. and every year since the day of your anniversary, there was always something special waiting for him. clothes, games, your love; everything, was there, in a box wrapped with his blues and your yellows. he envisions each gift to the tune of a shake from the box. each of them perfect, and what he preferred to have on this special occasion.

the 24th, his special gift waiting for you under the tree. to be opened, to be named, that's up to you to guess. but the small gift glistening underneath, cannot wait 'til morning. "i wonder what you got me." he feels your chest rumble softly. in almost an instant, the wear and tear of his job finally catches up to him. "you'll find out soon." dazai smiles against your chest, the soothing lullaby of your breathing nearly puts him to sleep. "happy anniversary, osamu. i hope you'll like my gift tomorrow." a few small circles rub dazai's head. he doesn't fall asleep until you do first. "i know i will," his voice quieter, gentler, matching the tempo of the dying breeze. and you'll love mine too, goes unheard. baby steps, baby steps were still baby steps.

the 25th — you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. in chuuya's mind, nothing quite comes and goes as slowly as your beauty. in fact, everyone assumes it's permanent by how he's so enamored—consumed with adoration. it should come as a surprise to no one, when he gifts you a personalized advent calendar to count down the days of his super secret selection of affection that chosen day. first it was hugs all day, then came kisses on the 3rd, and—oh he was so overwhelming with his love! and yet, you could never be bore of it. an excited squeal always left your mouth as soon the clock hit midnight, chuuya already making preparations for his swooning affection for the month of deer. "how's today?" he asks, seeking your approval from the early box picking. "perfect," you say, "i think you'll have me falling from the balcony with the way i'm falling for everything you do for me." he chuckles, "don't die yet, you still have a day, counting six extra, left."

the following day, you're awoken to the soft scent of cinnamon and marshmallows filling the tiniest gaps of air. you struggle to waken fully, still groggy from your late night endeavors with chuuya. matter of fact, where was he? it wasn't unusual for him to leave in the yawn of morning hours, but on his month off.. assuming the solution by the smell, you make way to the kitchen where chuuya stood behind a counter. he notices you in his vision before releasing a blinging smile. "good mornin' beautiful." a wink catches your eye, "couldn't sleep without me?" he says while patting fluffy pancakes down, each stacked imperfectly delicious with a drizzle of syrup and fruits decorating it. "and if i did?" you match his tease, creating an easy tension that could dissolve in any minute.

"well then, i won't keep ya' waiting." his lips form a familiar slant. using his ability to carry the plates and breakfast stand, chuuya's arms are already lifting you bridal. "why're you out of bed? i thought i gave myself enough time to surprise you." he nearly pouts to your face, not embarrassed to do so in front of you. you laugh it off, " 'tis okay, chu." booping him, he drops you onto the bed as some sort of petty revenge. "only if you say so." his lips met your cheek, propping the breakfast tray as you perched on your bottom. your stomach growled in anticipation, kneading the inner lining of your stomach. "well?" he asks, awaiting your approval once again. you picked up a fork and stabbed it into the fluffy pancake. bringing it up to his face, you tell him to open his mouth.

"first bite!" you nudge it closer, "okay," and without another word, chuuya took the entire thing into his mouth, "mmm - wow delicious. why don't you say; thank you chef nakahara." the mischievous in his tone was hard to miss—a smirk you wanted to wipe off his face. "you're welcome my princess." a giggle escaped with it. acting annoyed with the nickname, chuuya sneakily placed a dot of syrup on your cheek. "chuuya!" you gasp, scrambling to wipe away the sticky substance. "my bad, dear prince."

a small smack hit his shoulder, "go away!" nodding his head, he moves to get up, but is stopped by a small tug on his arm. "and bring me my gifts please." he thinks for a moment, arms relaxing and his body sinking back onto the bed. "oh? you mean the ones i threw in the fire to keep you warm last night? those presents? from under the tree?—ow! kidding!" he threw his arms up in surrender after getting smacked again, this time harder.

the 16th — when it came to december, atsushi was no stranger to the cold weather. being nearly stripped of everything but rags for clothes, he often got sick without compromise from the orphanage. when it came to his life in the agency—his life with you—he was taken care of, given affection he was denied, able to show the vulnerability the director shut down. in his own little mind, you were the stage centerpiece; a transition from the filthy pinecone to the golden star he finally got to place on his tree. "quiet," he almost flinches, until he heard a melody instead of the desolate, angry, mob. he opened his eyes, eyes blinding him with your beauty. "an angel?" he questions, still hazed from his pain. "no," you laugh, replacing the towel on his head, "[name]."

"[name]..." he repeats, affirming his belief of being fine and alive. in your shared home—kyouka standing beside you. "is he going to be okay?" her weary voice echoes concern, to which you pat her head and tell her to fetch some more water. "of course he is, he's atsushi. i need a refill, can you do it for me?" with kyouka hurriedly jogging away, you're left alone with atsushi. he moans, his joints aching with every twist. "are you doing okay?" you ask, rubbing soft circles on his palm. "feel so nauseous." he mumbles, throat hoarse like the attack on trojans. you cooed, a sweet lullaby that comforts him through thick and thin, "feel better soon, m'kay?" he bobs his head like copier, obedient. atsushis' peace answers with silence.

admist your little moment, kyouka arrives back with the water in hand. she hands you the small bowl and takes her seat next to you again. "he seems at ease," she notes. "does he?" you question, busying yourself with replacing the towel every now and then. "mhm," she nods, "i'm glad." a small smile comes foward on her dollified expression. kyouka also takes notice of the faint blush resting on his face, daint and obvious. she doesn't speak up about it, opting to pop the question in when atsushi was better. for now, she'll wonder what you two had talked about while she was out of the room.

the 31st — if akutagawa had any say about attending any gift-related events, he'd stay home. if akutagawa had any shred of empathy left, he'd conserve it just for you. a mistake, honestly. he curses to the devils' and above for forcing his heart to ponder sweetly for you. "no," he says, unwavering in his decision. "but, ryu!!" you whine so casually, wanting him to give in and get out of his comfort zone. you knew it wasn't an easy task, seeing as your beloved friend preferred to stay within the four white walls the port mafia created. "annoying," he grumbles, eyes tilting blinding anger, "leave me be." he shoves past you, destined to cast away your binding spell. you stand there, resolve strong as ever while defending against hollow words. "be that way," you sigh, "but before you leave, let me give you this." you pull out a small present, throwing it to akutagawa who caught it with rashomon.

"what's this?" he inquired, an annoyed grunt passing his lips when you don't answer and turn on your heels to leave. annoying, he thinks again. he decides to unravel his gift later, when he was in the comforts of his own home. "what's inside?" gin poked at it, wanting her brother to hurry it up already. "don't know, [name] gave it to me]." he sighs—a gentle remonstrance. gin nods in understanding, waiting eagerly for her brother to tear the paper apart. inside laid a small box, "is it jewelry?" akutagawa shrugged his shoulds, "might be."

he uncovers the tiny trinket inside. it appeared to be a plain, silver lining necklace with nothing attached. at the bottom of the box, a note read; a pitiful necklace for your grey home, truly, a noteworthy gift you thought of. "seems like [name] really likes you," gin jokes about. akutagawa was quick to shut it down though, not in the mood to entertain any lovey dovey tease. "alright, alright," she giggles, "are you going to the party tonight?" she switches the topic. the mafia didn't often hold parties—this year being an exception—to keep their reputation in check. "no, i don't think i will." gin pouts at her brothers' rejection. "i won't force you, but maybe you'd enjoy it." you'll see [name], is what she's implying. as much as he can deny the pointed accusations, it was obvious to others around, that akutagawa held a soft spot for you. he grounded himself, "no." his mental fortude will not be broken down by measly gifts. "mhm–okay," gin hides her grin exceptionally well.

on the day of the party, you're feeling gorgeous in your outfit, hair done and kept to match it. you greet others with polite grace, "good evening to you too executive ozaki." you return her greeting. she does a curt bow before leaving the short talk. hunger gnawed a tight grip on your stomach, a loud growl emitting nothing against the loud chatter of the room. you scan the area for the nearest buffet table to ease your hunger. spotting none, you traverse the mounts of cleanliness ordor into another area of the building, where you laid eyes on an exquisite high-top table filled to the edge of some of your favorites. your inner-self squealed in excitement, still needing to maintain your professional composure while walking down to it.

the closer you got, a familiar voice rang nearby. "i'd rather not talk about it," he adjusts the chain sitting on his neck, your eyes catching wind of his movements unbeknownst to him. "aww, c'mon akutagawa! just tell us!!" tachihara whined drunkenly, using gin as support as he leaned on her. "no," he says. "my brother is a little shy on the outside. don't worry tachihara–i promise he's feeling fluttery on the inside." gin reassures her friend with light taps on his hand. "am not." he glares, hardly ever removing that mean scowl of his. tachihara was about to make a scene until he flinched from your voice, "it's all in the tone, tachi," your half assed smirk eased in—delighted to see akutagawa wearing your gift, "the chain suits you, doesn't it?" you smile, that teasing glint shining in your teeth nearly makes the man in question falter.

"it does," he mutters, walking away with a clenched heart—the blush on the tip of his ears giving away his true feelings.

@ yunimayie—everything is owned by mayira, she doesn't appreciate copyright breaches.

anyways lil rant at the bottom but, if ur not a writer, then u have no right to complain abt the amount of smut to fluff ratio 😭 (even then, as a writer, u should understand that complaining is not going to change anything).

im also tired of yall bitching abt everything in the x reader tag 😐 gtfo the place where ppl come to READ fics, not read ur bitching 🙏!

[complaining abt xyz] "oh im going to put this in the x reader tags to gain attention and sympathy for my cause!" OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

anyways, hello guys ik i wasn't gone for that long, but it feels like forever (cause i haven't written anything good yes ik). buuut.. my hyperfixiation on bsd isnt leaving anytime soon so why not make the most of it rn and write again. next fic is def smut 😴🤞.