#angst kinda

[thedawgest]

This is my country.

[fadedrosesofmyheart]

adopting a cat with nanami!

barely proofread🥟

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you’d been begging kento to get a cat for MONTHS.

and finally, after you got on his last nerve by listing off thousands of reasons why, (and saving money) he gave in.

because how could he ever say no to you?

you happily got dressed while nanami watched. he admired the way your style complimented your personality. he payed attention to the small things. the way you’d pucker your lips when you admired yourself in the mirror, the look of satisfaction on your face when your hair turned out just right. he especially loved that sweet smile that’d cross your face when he’d compliment you. the way still blush a little and get a bit shy even after years of being together. he could never get tired of that. of this. for as long as he lived.

once done, you slipped on your jacket and shoes, making your way out to the car with nanami, and off you went to the animal shelter.

he looked over at you, making sure you were buckled in, before turning on the car. he waited a few seconds for the car to warm up, and pulled out of the driveway with a grounding and comforting hand on your thigh—thumb rubbing gentle, soothing circles, driving through the calm road. on the ride there, you scrolled through the animal shelter’s website, occasionally throwing an “awhhh” and “kento, lookkkk”, with a pout.

to which nanami would give a small smile and a “that’s cute” because, honestly? he lost track of how many cats you showed him.

finally, after you showed nanami basically every animal at the shelter, he pulled into the parking lot of the shelter. he got out of the car, opening your door for you because for some reason he really like doing that.

he kept a hand around your waist as he opened the door and guided you in to the front desk.

you spoke with the employee working at the front desk, the employee typing your information into the computer and handed you a fill out sheet. once done, the worker led you into the back, where you could hear a couple cats and kitties meowing. you were buzzing with excitement, that bright, pure, sweet smile that made nanami feel like a weak, weak man.

god, he was whipped. he was mesmerized by everything about you. the way your eyes glinted with adoration, the way you were practically smiling with all thirty-two teeth. the little crinkles at the outer corners of your eyes, the slight squint, and oh—don’t even get him started on your expressions.

the way you gasped, mouth parted when you saw an orange kitty-cat, your bottom lip jutting out a bit—forming a small pout on your lips. your expression completely and utterly tender, ethereal, beautiful, mesmerizing, gorgeous—god. words could never describe how he thought about you.

nanami trailed behind you as you walked down the room of kitties. each one having their own bunked crate.

and obviously, you stopped to see every single kitty. because, why not?

you crouched down to take a look at the bottom kitties, seeing a grey little kitty, a black one, a spotted one, a white one, and a little siamese one.

you stopped to look at every single kitty, until you’ve seen each and every last one there was.

you stuck your finger through the little bars of the crates to pet the little kitties, eating a playful paw, a nuzzle, or even a little bite. they were all so fluffy and cute you could probably die of cuteness aggression.

nanami was half brain dead at this point. all the cats looked the same to him, well, some of them looked the same to him. though he wasn’t much annoyed, more so, just…in love. like always.

when you pet the last kitty, you stood up, turning on your heel and walking back to one of the kitties you first saw. a light, blonde little kitty.

“ken, c’mere” you said, your soft voice full of adoration and absolute fondness for the little kitty.

it looked exactly like nanami in your opinion. his blonde hair, stoic expression, chocolate brown eyes. it was practically him in cat form.

nanami padded across the room to you. he stood behind you, leaning down a bit to get a good look at the kitty.

“that one?” he muttered, tilting and turning his head to look at you.

“yeah” you murmured. sure. with a nod.

he watched for a moment, as you pet the little kitty with your index finger, the kitty nuzzling into you finger and practically purring already.

“we have to, ken, look at her.” you almost whined, looking up at nanami with puppy eyes.

he let out a soft huff, looking down at you. his heart clenching at the sight. he looked at the cat, and back at you.

“you sure? you don’t wanna take one last look?”

he asked, sporting his hands in his pockets.

“i’m sure.” you replied, looking up at him still.

he was silent for a moment, taking in your expression. you really wanted this cat, didn’t you? you looked so entranced by the kitty. like your soul was attached to it or something. the glint in your eyes made nanami feel like he was fallling in love with you all over again.

“alright, let’s get’r”

you smiled brightly, springing to your feet and turning to the worker.

after filling out even more paperwork and paying the adoption fee, the worker finally gave a nod. “okay, wait here, i’ll bring her right out for you.”

then disappeared into the back.

in the meanwhile, nanami had gone to the car to fetch the crate in the trunk of his car. it’s been sitting there for months, ever since you first asked. but he was a bit stubborn, so he wasn’t going to give in right away.

after you carefully got the kitty into the crate, you two made your way back to the car. you got into the backseat with the kitty, not wanting to leave the poor little kitty alone. she was absolutely adorable. pupils blown wide, little paws, pawing at your wiggling finger through the door bars. you could probably cry from the sight of the little kitty.

through the rearview mirror, nanami stole a fee glances at you. he caught sight of your adoring smile, so amused by the kitten, the little giggles-god, the little giggles you let out. they were everything to nanami. everything.

────────────────────────

after going to petsmart and fetching a few necessities for the kitty, even some little toys to keep her entertained, you went back home.

stepping into the house, you toe off your shoes, hang your jacket and gently set the crate down on the floor, careful not to startle the kitty.

nanami watched as you crouched down next to the crate, carefully opening the little door to the crate. the kitten hesitated, paw hovering for a step forward, then retreating, and back to back it went.

after a long trial and error of trying to get the kitty out, you were able to bribe her out with a little bite of chicken. she was so shy, and playful, she was absolutely everything.

you set a little bed up for her in you and kento’s shared bedroom, setting it at the foot of your bed, so she’ll sleep close to you, or even jump onto the bed and sleep with you if she wanted.

you fed her some kibble, while nanami watched and admired the way you gently stroked the cat with your knuckle. the kitty was one of those that trembled, so it was pretty cute to him—seeing the way your brows furrowed in slight concern when you saw how the kitty was trembling like it was just threatened.

and lastly, after a long, long day of looking at adorable kitties—what better thing to do than watch a movie!

kento lied on the couch, back reclined against the armrest of the couch. you were settled between his legs, back against his chest, the kitty laying on your stomach, loafing, already purring softly, her eyes slowly squinting more and more as she got sleepy—a comfy, soft blanket pulled over you and kento, kento’s big, warm, calloused hands, soothingly roving over your body. your arms, shoulders, hands, waist, especially your little tummy pudge—anywhere he could reach. he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, then your temple, before one of his hands found it’s home in your hair, carding through the soft locks, blunt fingernails massaging your scalp in that specific way you loved—the one that had you immediately melting.

there was a subtle look of admiration in his ephemeral eyes. god, he loved you; with his heart and soul. he could stay like this forever. right here, fingers carding through your hair, the weight of you on his chest, the adorable sight of you and the kitty. this was more than enough. this was what he needed all along. you. just you. always and forever.

he reached a hand to the kitty, lightly scratching at the back of the cat’s ear. he then tilted his head down to look at you—eyes locking. his eyes speaking for him, with all the love and affection he didn’t even know he could hold in his heart. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hands warm, soothing. gently cradling your cheek in his hand. “take care of her for me.”

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that’s when you woke up. you immediately sat up with a gasp, breathing unevenly as you buried your face in your hands.

you lifted your head, eyes drifting to the empty space next to you, the space where your loving husband once was. where kento would always be. right there, to pull you into his arms after a bad dream.

but he wasn’t there; he wasn’t going to be. not anymore.

just your cat. nana. curled into a ball, sleeping soundly. and you, in nanami’s shirt, sleeping planted at your side of the bed.

because every day, you hope to wake up from this torturing, gut wrenching, hair pulling nightmare; and see him there, admiring you as you slept. eyes droopy from tiredness but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.

he never wanted to. he’d always stay up late. laying on his side, propped up on one elbow, the other hand gently carding through your hair. grounding. watching your eyes droop more and more, until you couldn’t keep them open any longer, your breathing falling into a rhythm and steadying.

he couldnt look away, even if he tried. he’d just lay there, staring like he still couldn’t believe you were his. eyes glinting with adoration and pure love. the little lamp in the corner emitting a pale, gold hue through the room, the hazy lighting making you look like an ethereal, half-remembered dream.

you sat there, tangled in the sheets that once held late night reassurances, confessions, dumb whispers, giggles, tears. love.

remembering how he smiled that one time during winter; when he saw snowflakes falling onto your eyelashes. you could still hear him dying of laughter—practically crying at the way you were standing there utterly confused, repeating “what’s so funny?” while he just flicked the snowflakes off your eyelashes; in the moment also accidentally flicking your eye, which earned him a slap to his bicep, and then turned into a snowball fight that you—obviously won.

(nanami actually won, but he didn’t have the heart to let himself win)

how you’d stay up late with him sometimes and try to talk while you were half asleep, mumbling barely coherent words that didn’t make sense. and that made him all the more, fall head over heels for you.

but something that makes you nauseous every time without fail, is that one late night talk you had with him.

he held you in his chest, the covers pulled securely over both of you; tucked into every corner like a monster would pop out from under the bed and tickle your feet.

his hand rested on your cheek, thumb grazing your cheekbone lightly. your head tilted up to look at him.

“you’re going to look breathtaking in white, someday.” he muttered, voice smooth, laced with sleepiness.

you smiled lazily, blinking at him through your sleep-drooped eyes. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he nodded firmly.

you giggled softly. “i bet you’re gonna cry when you see me walking down the isle.”

he smirked softly, a soft huff escaping his nose; more of a small laugh. eyes glinting with fondness and desire. “mm. with that smile of yours and that little face—shit, i might as well be sobbing, sweet girl.”

he suddenly got hit with a wave of cuteness regression, pulling you into him before you could even react, earning a strained ‘oof!-‘ from you, as he practically crushed you with his hug.

“kento!” you strained out, giggling—well, kinda wheezing from the air being knocked out of your lungs.

“i’m sorry, darling. you’re just too cute, i can’t help it.”

how you wish he hadn’t slipped away into death’s arms.

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my first post, AHHH!!! any advice or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, i hope you guys enjoy this!!

missing nanami like hell, so no one’s getting a happy ending🤍

please don’t repost or copy, comments and advice/constructive criticism and requests are greatly appreciated!!

[adhd-cepheus]

Im struggling to imagine a Starstruck au that doesn't end with me sad in some way cause I want:

Starstruck that involves actual feelings & communication

Grace & Rocky not leaving each other

Colt to be with his twin & Jody

Rocky to be with Adrian on Erid

Not to mention if it's Coltland Gentry so more has to be added on so Court gets a perfect happy ending too

[mxnixcxx]

How would your life be after that heart wretching break-up with Piers?

One singular word.

Miserable.

Very much so, to nobody's surprise.

You've vanished off of the face of the earth like in an instant. The one thing you were good at actually.

Days bled into weeks and weeks morphed into months.

Now think about Piers breaking it to Chris that you've left and went rogue again.

They had a long talk about what happened. About what Piers had said to you before slamming the door in your face and Chris couldn't help but acknowledge some part of his soul felt bad for you.

I mean, you made your choice. That's on you to keep living that life.

But he knew how down bad you were for his lieutenant. He knew how much you loved Piers.

Yet to know that you've chosen the life over love was something that was just so...you. Chris was aware that you wouldn't change. He had hopes, yes, but he knew.

Piers couldn't save you.

Not the way he might've wanted to.

And now you're gone. Vanished without a single trace. Nowhere near anything that might be associated with the BSAA.

◇

Something changed. Some part of him was missing.

He tried to drown himself in work, taking up more than he should be able to chew — field work, intructing the newest generation, the likes.

Piers just couldn't get rid of this void in his chest.

Like a part of his soul was ripped out.

He tried to deny it. Tell himself otherwise and try to convince these bad thoughts swarming through his head.

Still he knew it deep down. He missed you. A lot.

He missed your presence. Your voice. Those outrageous comments only you managed to come up with. Your laugh.

He missed it all.

This emptiness left behind was a spot you used to fill.

He hated it. That you've managed to affect him this way despite being gone.

And it was noticeable.

Piers has never been more agitated for a longer period of time than a few days. The team caught wind of it immediately. It was like walking on eggshells with him.

The sniper would blow up at the tiniest things. Cursing and complaining before he stormed out of the room to cool off somewhere.

And it was something far too out of character for him to the point Chris had dragged him aside for a chat.

◇

"Maybe you should take a few days to yourself, Piers."

Even just the voice of his captain was driving Piers up the wall.

His jaw clenched at the mere prospect of being sent home yet again for something as stupid as this.

Piers was aware that his outbursts were unreasonable. That he was in the wrong here. But some part of him just denied the justice of it all.

"I'm fine, Chris."

He sounded anything but fine. Chris could hear every ounce of anger bubbling just beneath the operative's skin.

"No, you're not. You're emotional. Too volatile. The team's avoiding you like a live grenade. That's not healthy."

Chris was reasonable. He was right. Piers was overreacting.

And he hated every single fucking second of it.

Piers hated a lot of things and this conversation had to be pretty high up on the list at the moment.

"I'm not emotional, Captain. I'm just having a bad day. Everybody has those."

"You've been having a 'bad day' for weeks now, Piers. You either get yourself together or you'll be suspended from any further operation."

Oh, crap.

"Suspended? For what?! I said I'm fine!"

The tension practically started to boil at the moment. Chris picked up on it immediately and he leveled his lieutenant with the according glare.

Piers was fuming.

"If this is about [Your Name], you should consider a therapist. [He's/She's/They've] been gone for basically half a year now. Keeping emotions bottled up isn't going to help you, Piers. And it most definitely won't help the team."

Now that seemed to put a stop to his tyranny. The anger simmered down to simple irritation, he despised that Chris was right. Again. As always.

He wanted to stay angry. He wanted to stay horrendously mad at something he decided on months ago. He wanted to be mad at you for choosing the criminal life over the love you felt for him. He wanted to hate you for it.

But the respect he had for Captain Redfield reluctantly helped ease some of the irritations. He was right, Piers was in the wrong for dwelling on feelings to the point they interfered with his work. He couldn't exactly afford that as a BSAA operative.

"I don't need a therapist, Captain. I'll deal with this on my own."

He gruffed in reluctance, keeping his glare off to the side until he forced himself to look at Chris.

"Good. Talk to me if you need those days off. I'll get them through."

Piers literally saw how his Captain softened up at the prospect of having his right hand man concede and follow his advice.

◇

Your tounge darted over the split skin of your lips. The iron taste of your own blood spreading over your tastebuds as an ever present reminder. A reminder to the life you've chosen to lead.

One filled with violence.

With death.

With temporary happiness.

Your eyes were trained on the corpse of your latest inconvenience. Those empty eyes stared into your very soul while you pondered with the burner phone in your hand.

You've brushed hands with death so often, the prospect of causing or suffering through it had been desensitised to you years ago.

Blood was the least of your worries. Corpses were simple obstacles. The idea of taking a life was an option you've always considered.

Maybe Piers was right. Maybe you should be put behind bars.

The more you thought about it, the more—

Your lips pursed gently while your gaze darted to the reflective screen of the device. The less than savory blade of your knife twirled and swung in your opposite hand as you weighed out your options.

Call or leave it be.

Hear that voice or heed your own promises.

Your thumb moved before your brain had the actual time to consider what you should be doing.

Soon the rhythmic buzzing errupted from the device, trying to connect the call from across the world. You've raised the phone to your ear, waiting and watching to be picked up at last.

You nudged the body before you with your foot. The arm flailed weakly before it hit the ground again with a less than satisfying thud.

Poor bastard.

You really did him dirty with those injuries.

Maybe hitman work isn't your type of thing after all—

"Hello?"

Your breath hitched as the voice filtered through the line and reverberated through your ear.

That timber. The slight roughness getting caught in the back of his throat.

You didn't know how much you missed it until now.

"You were right."

Your voice was quiet but it was steady. Like you didn't want to disturb anybody around despite everybody else in the room with you being dead.

"Took you a while to figure that out. Almost seven months, really? You couldn't have called sooner?"

The smile curling on your lips was anything if not an ounce bashful. He's always been like this. Complaining about the tiniest things.

"Oh, I apologise, your majesty. How dare I take some time for myself to figure things out and get over this whole love drama."

"Yeah, you should be sorry. Grovel on your hands and knees and beg for my forgiveness at this point. You really hurt my feelings disappearing like that. I thought we had something special."

There it was.

The sarcasm you had almost forgotten.

Was he always this likeable? Must be the lack of contact. Had to be.

But you couldn't suppress the smile threatening to grow into a grin either.

So you occupied yourself. Your form lowered into a crouch to wipe the bloodied steel of your knife on your victim's shirt. The once crisp white fabric now drenched in red from the initial injuries and now your repurpose for a napkin.

"Want me to kiss your boots while I'm at it?"

"Ew, no. I don't know where that mouth's been."

You couldn't help but laugh. It was a sound you hadn't heard from yourself in a while, that's how much it surprised you.

You stood back upright and opted to stroll over to the lounge sported in the middle of the spacious office.

The dull thud of your butt hitting the cushion was an odd sound among the carnage around you.

The dead body of a guard slumped further into the side of the couch's frame on the opposite end. Great company, you had to admit.

"So what's the glorious reason you've decided to grace me with your virtual presence then? After months of radio silence."

The question came after a solid moment of silence. As if the fact that you were continents apart had nothing on the bond the two of you still shared.

It was good to know that at least someone still liked you.

"Been taking up a few jobs. You know, the usual. Drank my liver almost into a coma. Twice. And I've been feeling kinda lonely lately."

You droned on as your gaze caught the glint of your knife. The blade spun in your grip, executing a few tricks before you just started to throw it into the air and catch it again.

"Are you objectifying me, asking for a booty call at this hour?"

He sounded almost offended if it wasn't for this inconspicuous lilt of his smile bleeding through.

You swear, every time you talk with this man, you just knew when he was smiling and when he wasn't. You could hear it in his voice.

"Not a booty call, Jake. Just wanted to hear a familiar voice."

"Oh, you're sentimental. That's even worse."

"You are a horrible person, do you know that?"

Yeah, being exasperated wasn't even beginning to describe how you felt talking with him.

"Please, I'm the most charming guy around. You just can't handle a little teasing."

"Your idea of teasing is just blatant insulting, Muller. The only thing anybody could count as charming about you is the fact that your mug isn't completely atrocious."

"You love my not-completely-atrocious mug. Otherwise you wouldn't be staring at it every time we talk."

If there was an invisible camera around, you'd be staring into it with the most blank expression you could muster.

Of course he'd brag about his looks.

Goddamn idiot.

"Where else am I supposed to look at when we talk? Your left tit?"

"Objectifying me again. What's the matter with you, buttercup? My right one looks better and you know it."

The chuckle puffing from your lungs again reminded you just how much you missed these interactions. Having gone solo for months now wasn't the best for your health.

Calling Jake was the only good idea you had these past few weeks.

And it seems that the sound of your amusement managed to put a smirk on his own face. Not that you could ever see it.

"Still considering going federal?"

You asked after a short moment of silence. Your voice was quiet. Gentle almost in its approach, like you tried not to scare an animal off.

"Nah. That's not my style. Supergirl tried to convince me though, as much as she could. But I think I'm good on my own."

"That's..good to know."

....

"You want me to come around, don't you?"

"Don't get any ideas, Muller."

Your tone was warning but it lacked any kind of heat you normally would've carried.

"Wouldn't dream of anything, [Your Last Name]. Give me a time and a location, then I'll consider visiting your sorry ass."

"You love my ass."

"Would you stop treating me like I only care about sex?"

"HOW DOES THAT EVEN—"

You put a stop to that sentence before it was even fully out. That sudden outburst caught you off guard but it amused Jake enough to pull a huff of laughter from him.

You took the second to calm yourself and take a deep breath. The knife was clutched in your curled up palm, using it as a useless stress ball before you sheathed the blade and finally pushed yourself off the sofa.

"I'll just figure something out. Text you when I can. I need to go."

"I'll make sure to bring flowers."

The call ended with a beep and you immediately pinched the bridge of your nose.

Jesus Christ, you almost forgot how much this man loved to ragebait people.

You looked around the place again, viewing your less than savoury masterpiece of death and blood and decided – now was the time to get out of here.

Cops would come soon and you'd rather be gone by then.

So you made sure you left nothing behind, got rid of any evidence or clue before making your way out of there like Houdini but if he stole a wallet and didn't want to be registered for theft.

◇

As shitty as you felt and as much as you mourned the loss of love, you tried to make due with whatever you could.

If that 'whatever' had the form of an old friend of yours, then that's fine aswell.

You just needed something to get your head out of your ass and think clear for once.

[motherkiwidear]

“You’re not listening!”

“No ____, you’re not listening!” He exclaimed, and I followed him into the area where they air their own radio show.

“Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I’m hearing myself perfectly fine right now, in fact. It’s never been clearer, that you’re trying to get yourself killled.”

“That’s literally not why I want to go on the crawl tonight.”

“Oh? Then what is the reason?”

“I want to help, I’m sick and tired of you wrapping my ass in bubble wrap and duct tape. I can handle myself.

“Well, you wouldn’t exactly be of use to us if you get killed or taken, now would you?”

“Steve…” I said, feeling extremely hurt. “You think I can’t do this, do you?”

“Sure, sure. If that’s what you want to believe.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly deny it.” I watch as he fumbled with the prerecorded tapes of sound effects. “It’s true then, isn’t it?”

“You.. You know what I think?” Steve started and looked me dead in the eyes. “I think you need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, you need all hands on deck for this one.”

“Go.. home, ____.” I was going to open my mouth and fight back, but.. “Please.”

He was adamant and refused to let me stay so I ‘left,’ and by that, I pretended to close the door and hid behind the wall.

“Trouble in paradise?” Robin said, as Steve walked over to her.

“They doesn’t understand I’m trying to protect them.” He said, and sat on the couch.

“And you don’t understand that they aren’t a baby anymore.”

“Wow, gee thanks. I didn’t know that Robin, you’re.. soo smart.”

“If you want them to know then, I don’t know… Maybe tell them?”

“They wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me, Harrington.” I said and walked over to him, standing on the side of couch.

He sighed, annoyance lightly draped over his face, but relieved nonetheless.

notes: he just wants to keep you safe in the craziness that is hawkins 🥺✋🏽

border from @cafekitsune ! <3

[creativityisamess]

Bald bull is angry. That's his whole thing. It may be funny to see as his boxing persona, but it does seep in his personal life.

He's the type of person to push others away because he's afraid of hurting those he loves. He knows one day that he'll mess up and his partner or friend will catch him on the wrong day and he'll explode on them. He never once laid a hand on the people he cares for, but the words he says always stings afterwards. If anyone were to ever form a relationship with him, friend or lover, it's important to know that he never truly means what he says when he gets mad.

He means well. He really does. He just has a few issues to go work through.

[thetiredartist101]

[✨ Swapfell Gold + Red x Bloodmoon Twins! ✨]

Got inspired by @ solarpuppet_7112 on YouTube! and wanted to go back into an old hyperfixation of drawing Undertale alternate universes!

I originally wanted to draw Frank fused with Nightmare but I really felt like drawing Bloodmoon so - yeah! I hope it looks decent! I’ma head off to nap or something now, good day! ✨

+ yes I struggled a lot with Swapfell Red Bloodmoon thanks for asking :’] *sheds a non existent tear*

[npookie0]

Hi!! Ik this ask isnt really interesting but are u fine with doing hcs of the kc li's where reader suddenly disappears without a trace? There's no evidence of their existence, their apartment is completely empty, and every single message they ever sent was gone.

Gone Without a Trace

(bro throws the most interesting idea at me and calls it boring OKAY POOKIE SLAY)

Headcanons for Killer Chat! love interests when they're partner suddenly disappears from existence almost like they were never real

goreboy :

He would think that he went absolutely insane. That you were only a projection of his sick mind and that maybe it's just a consequence of is murders.

But the more he missed you and the realer you would feel to his mind after a whole the worse it would be for him. He'd be obsessed with tracking you down, finding you and at least asking why.

He wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that he let you slip away so easily, be gone from his life like he was nothing to you.

It would affect his kills, he'd me more ruthless as a way to cope. He would laugh, insane, then that would turn into sobbing.

He'd be hurt, in the same way Lucifer was when God took his wings.

Angelic :

It would be shocking to her, break her whole world. She'd feel like someone tore a part of her that she didn't even know could be torn away.

Angel is fast with mourning, or at least showing it to others, so to those who knew both you and her she'd look perfectly fine as always. But inside her mind it'd be a true hell on earth happening.

She would spend nights crying, trying to find even a small piece of you in her house or your old house, trying to hold onto that small piece even if it wasn't even completely yours.

She'd try to look for you, use any means necessary other than her channel. She can't look insane in the eyes of her eyes no matter what, but she will find you at any cost. Or she hopes she will.

You've truly made her heartsick. Broke her heart and tore it apart.

hitmeuppp :

They'd freak out. Ask the other killers if they know anything and when the answer is negative, they'd break completely.

Misaki would think that maybe you were a project of her dreams, that she saw you in a dream and it was so realistic it mixed with her normal life.

They'd ask V to help them, they'd use their own means to find you too. They would be hopeful. Hopeful to find you and learn the truth.

Misaki would lose weight and sleep. Trying to find you and cope with losing you were too heavy for one assassin to deal with at once.

And suddenly they really wished that it was all a dream.

K9 :

V would be devastated. He would feel like a disappointment. There has to be something, a hint. anything to explain your sudden disappearance. You couldn't be gone without a reason.

He'd try to find you by all means necessary, even if it meant that he'd have to bend his morals a bit. It didn't matter when it had to do with you.

He would go silent in the server, not interacting with anyone, especially when they mentioned your name. He has to find you. No one will go through to him, especially if they suggest giving up.

He would be a mess. Obsess on finding you, sleep or charity events could wait, you on the other way wouldn't wait, as you already proven to him by vanishing completely.

His world crumbled. Now he needs to find the one to rebuild it.

I could make better ones but I hope they're somewhat good

I love u all

Nate <3