Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
*Sometimes, Akechi can be caught staring off into the distance. His amber gaze settled to the window, as if studying the way dust catches in the light. His eyebrows furrow for a moment as his gloved hand rests within his brown locks. And its hard to place what he’s thinking. It’s a subtle contrast to how he always is— A sign to another person deeper than the surface level Akechi offers. And yet, as quick as it comes, it disappears, gone in a blink of an eye.**For Akechi dislikes that middle ground of vulnerability, finds it pathetic in a sense. His nose twitching up at the smell of coffee brewing, a reality check. His brows furrow, gloved hand coming up to rest against his temples because there it is again—the pain, a reminder. And he fucking despises himself like this.**Akechi didn’t die that night when the gun shot through his head. But it feels like it sometimes.*
Locked Content
NSFW