#Ronin x Misaki x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elysiaheaven · 3 months ago

Note

Killer Chat main cast in the bedroom? 🫣

This was so fun to write thank you for the request!

RONIN - The DEVIL'S BUTCHER

Ronin may act nonchalant, but the moment you’re in bed, he drapes himself over you like a heavy blanket. Whether it’s his arm slung lazily across your waist or his whole body practically pinning you down, he needs the contact. If you try to move? Forget it—he’ll grumble, “Where d’you think you’re going?” and pull you back tighter.

No matter the situation, Ronin is a sucker for forehead kisses. If you're curled up against him, he’ll drop lazy kisses on the top of your head without even thinking about it. He finds it hilarious how quickly they make you blush and always teases you, whispering, “Blushy already, huh? How cute.”

Ronin sleeps like a tangled mess. His legs are always draped over yours, and sometimes you wake up to find his arm tucked under your neck or his head buried in your shoulder. Even if it gets too warm, he’ll stubbornly cling to you like a koala, mumbling, "You’re not escaping me."

Running his fingers through your hair is one of his favorite things—whether you're awake or asleep. He claims it’s "just to keep his hands busy," but really, it's soothing for him. Sometimes, he’ll absentmindedly braid tiny sections or twirl strands around his finger while lost in thought.

As much as Ronin plays up his confident, devil-may-care persona, he’s occasionally struck by waves of doubt, especially when dysphoria hits. He might hold you a little tighter on those nights, wordlessly seeking reassurance.

If you run your hands down his chest and kiss him gently where his scars are, it’s the kind of tenderness that undoes him. He’ll try to cover it with a half-sarcastic, “Don’t get all sappy on me,” but the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

Sometimes, he’ll ask if you’re sure you’re okay with the way he looks, in a voice that’s so quiet it breaks your heart. Your answer always matters to him—more than he’d admit.

Ronin’s not much of a spooner in the traditional sense—he likes to wrap himself around you, snake-like, or tangle his legs with yours in the messiest, most chaotic way possible. He has a habit of lazily tossing an arm or leg over you, murmuring, “You’re not leaving, right?” as he buries his face in your neck. If you try to move, he’ll just pull you closer with an annoying little grin.

Ronin’s intimacy is all about control, not in an aggressive way, but in how he carefully chooses when and how he gives himself to you. Knowing that you love him as he is—without expectations—eases his fears, but it’s still a process.

On nights where he lets you touch the parts of him he’s most insecure about, it feels like he’s handing you a piece of his soul. He needs the reassurance that you see him fully and still love every bit.

He likes playing mind games even in the bedroom, leaning into teasing and tension just to make things more interesting. He’ll smirk against your lips, murmuring, “Think you can handle me?” knowing full well you’ve already won.

Ronin isn’t big on over-the-top dominance, but there’s always an edge to the way he kisses you—like he’s trying to claim you, even in the softest moments. It’s not about control; it’s about wanting you to feel how much you matter to him, in every breathless second.

After everything—after the teasing, kisses, and playful jabs—he’ll lie there in the quiet, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounde

He’ll never say it outright, but you can hear the unspoken words in the way he presses his lips to your hair: I love you. I love you. I love you.

Ronin wakes up before you sometimes, and instead of getting up like a normal person, he decides to mess with you. He’ll tickle your nose with his hair or blow gently on your face, waiting for you to groggily swat at him. When you finally wake up annoyed, he’ll grin, kiss your forehead, and say, “Rise and shine, sweetheart. Couldn’t sleep without annoying you first.”

While Ronin enjoys having control, he gets a thrill out of moments when you try to take charge. He’ll let you straddle him or pin his hands—just to see how far you’ll take it before he flips you over, smirking, “Cute. Now it’s my turn.”

He’ll pull things like lightly slapping your thigh or teasing you when you try to resist, smirking the whole time. If you ask him to stop being such a tease, he’ll drag it out even more, murmuring, “What’s the rush? I want to enjoy every second of this.”

In his twisted way, everything he does is an expression of love. Ronin is about pushing boundaries, breaking down walls, and molding you into someone who matches his chaotic, unhinged energy. “You’re mine,” he’ll whisper, not just as a promise but a warning—he won’t ever let you go, not truly.

After everything, he’ll drape an arm over you, pull you close, and nuzzle his face into your neck. But don’t expect sweet pillow talk—he’ll mutter something like, “Can’t believe you’re stuck with me,” or “How’d I get so lucky to ruin you, huh?” He shows affection in the strangest, most chaotic ways—sometimes by stealing kisses, sometimes by pinching your nose just to annoy you.

Ronin isn’t clingy, but he’s possessive in subtle ways. He loves when you wear his clothes after, especially when they’re oversized on you. Seeing you wrapped in something of his, especially after being tangled in bed, scratches an itch deep inside him. “That’s mine now,” he’ll joke, tugging at the collar.

He enjoys pushing your limits—whether it’s with teasing or something more intense. But the moment you hit your threshold, he’ll stop instantly. He doesn’t just listen to your boundaries; he respects them, taking pride in knowing exactly how far to push without breaking you.

V- For Vigilante- Batman

V isn’t someone who’s big on words or grand romantic gestures, especially in the bedroom. He shows care in the subtleties—like making sure you’re comfortable, leaving space for you to adjust, and observing how you react to him.

He’s slow to pick up on flirting, so if you make playful remarks or compliments, you might be met with a blank stare or a simple, “What are you trying to say?” But when he does catch on, he’ll become flustered, a rare softness peeking through his cool demeanor.

Touch isn’t second nature to V—he treats it like an unspoken contract, something intimate and earned. It takes time for him to initiate contact, but once he’s comfortable, you’ll notice small, deliberate gestures.

He has a habit of resting his hand on your back, just below your shoulder blades, or brushing his fingers along your arm. When you reach for him first, there’s always a flicker of hesitation before he lets himself lean into it.

In the bedroom, V’s energy is steady and composed—he isn’t someone who rushes into things. Every touch feels purposeful, as if he’s assessing your reaction and adjusting his actions accordingly. He might not say much, but his intensity speaks louder than words.

Though he’s naturally aloof, he likes when you take charge at times, especially if you lean into your nurturing but domineering side. When you pin him down playfully or grab his chin to make him look at you, a subtle smirk plays on his lips, amused by your boldness.

If you have pets, V will subtly encourage them to join you two on the bed—whether it's a cat curling up at your feet or a dog lying across the covers. He finds their presence grounding, though he’ll never admit it aloud.

You catch him more than once stroking an animal absentmindedly during conversations, and there’s a tenderness to the way he interacts with them—soft and careful, like they’re the only beings who understand him.

V may seem detached, but he’s hyper-aware of your moods. If you’re having a bad day, he won’t say much; instead, he’ll just pull you into bed and let you rest against him in silence, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

If someone has hurt you or crossed your boundaries, V shifts into a dangerous kind of calm. “Do you want me to handle it?” he’ll ask in a neutral tone, fully prepared to make that person regret ever breathing near you.

On nights when sleep feels distant, V doesn’t mind spending time with you tending to plants in your room—watering them, pruning leaves, or simply sitting in comfortable silence while the scent of soil fills the air.

He loves the way you care for living things. When he watches you tend to plants with gentle hands but turns around and sees that same kindness transform into brutal protectiveness for those you love, it intrigues him deeply.

V’s way of being intimate is subtle but commanding—he won’t rush things, preferring to explore you at his own pace. He takes time to memorize every part of you, his cool fingers trailing across your skin like a silent promise.

When things get heated, he’s not one to vocalize much. Instead, you’ll catch the way his breathing hitches or how his fingers tighten on your hips ever so slightly. If you tease him for being quiet, you might get a deadpan, “Is this supposed to be a conversation?”—but the rare flash of amusement in his eyes gives him away.

V might not be outwardly affectionate, but when he does express it, it’s in ways that feel uniquely him—like pulling you into his side while reading a book together or casually draping an arm across your waist as you sleep.

If you ever catch him in a rare moment of vulnerability—like if he’s half-asleep and mumbles something soft about how much you mean to him—it’ll be a fleeting moment, and he’ll act like it never happened. But you’ll know.

He admires how you can be nurturing to animals and plants but unforgiving toward people who cross the line. When he sees you switch from soft to sharp in a heartbeat, it stirs something in him—a quiet respect and attraction.

He knows you could easily handle yourself, but there’s still a part of him that feels responsible for your safety. If things ever go wrong, V’s loyalty is absolute, and anyone who threatens you becomes a problem he’s more than willing to solve.

In the stillness of the night, when it’s just the two of you curled up together, V’s voice becomes a little softer. He might murmur simple things—how the stars looked that night, or a quiet compliment like, “You smell nice.”

And when he’s finally on the edge of sleep, with his head resting against yours and his hand resting lazily on your hip, he’ll let slip the rarest kind of confession: “You’re the only one I trust.”

Misaki- Chaos gremlin

The bedroom isn’t just for sleeping—it’s for chaos. Misaki loves randomly initiating pillow fights or wrestling you onto the mattress with no warning. “Bet you can’t take me down!” they’ll challenge, even when they’re the one getting pinned two seconds later.If you play along and banter with them during these moments, they’ll grin like you’ve just made their day. Bonus points if you act dramatic when they win—“Noooo, I’ve been defeated!”—because it feeds their need for praise.

Misaki lives for your compliments, especially in casual moments. “Look at you, my little badass,” you say offhandedly, and they melt. You’ll catch them trying to hide a smile, only to respond with something like, “Heh, I know I’m amazing—but say it again.”They also adore teasing praise—“Wow, you really managed not to break anything today, proud of you”—but if you really hype them up when they’re struggling emotionally, it grounds them more than they’ll ever admit.

Misaki hates being alone and will cling to you like Velcro the moment you’re available. They’ll drag you into bed and sprawl out across you, often grumbling things like, “You’re not going anywhere, right"

They’re the type to demand cuddles but wiggle around so much it turns into a playful wrestling match. Eventually, they’ll flop dramatically on top of you, sigh, and say, “I’m staying right here. Deal with it.”

Misaki loves calling you during missions or jobs, not just because they’re bored but because it makes them feel connected. “You’re my lifeline,” they’ll joke, even though they’re dead serious about how much those calls mean to them.

Misaki is the master of cracking jokes during vulnerable moments. They’ll deflect emotional conversations with humor, brushing off their feelings like, “Eh, emotions are overrated, right?” But deep down, they’re craving someone who can see past that.

If you gently call them out—

“You’re deflecting, babe”—they’ll groan dramatically and act like you’ve caught them red-handed, but the fact that you noticed? It means the world to them.

If you’re a good cook, Misaki adores you—praising you like a culinary god and demanding home-cooked meals at every opportunity. But fair warning: they love joining you in the kitchen, often causing delightful chaos.

Picture them trying to flip pancakes a little too high or sneaking bites from every pot while yelling, “Quality control!” They might make a mess, but they’ll be having the time of their life doing it with you.

One minute you’re cuddling in bed, and the next, Misaki’s throwing blankets and pillows everywhere to build a fort. “C’mon, no fort is complete without snacks—grab some!” they’ll say as they bury themself in the pillows like a gremlin.

The two of you end up snuggled inside, eating snacks and watching movies—until they inevitably fall asleep on you, snoring softly with their head on your chest.

Intimacy with Misaki is playful but deeply affectionate. They’ll joke mid-kiss—“Wow, are you trying to knock me out with that kiss?”—but the way they look at you, like you’re their whole world, is no joke.

Even when things get spicy, they mix teasing with genuine tenderness, making you feel cherished in their own chaotic way. And afterward? They’re all about aftercare

If anyone messes with you, Misaki’s inner chaos gremlins activate. They’ll laugh it off in the moment, but rest assured—they’ll come back with just enough payback to leave the offender wondering what hit them. “Nobody messes with my partner,” they’ll say, grinning.

And if you joke about them being your personal protector, they’ll puff their chest dramatically and declare, “You better believe it. I’ll traumatize them right back.”

At the end of the day, Misaki is a ride-or-die partner. They’ll love you to the ends of the earth, sticking by your side through every mess and adventure. Whether you’re making pancakes at midnight or just lying in bed watching TV,

they’re happiest when they’re with you.And every night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, they’ll murmur something sweet, like, “I’m really glad you’re here, y’know?” It’s their way of saying, in their chaotic but sincere way, that they wouldn’t trade this—or you—for anything.

Angel- Heartsick Angel

Angel’s optimism often comes with a tinge of self-doubt, and you’ve learned to recognize when her mind starts to spiral. She might smile through it, masking the anxiety, saying, "Everything’s fine!"—but the way she grips your hand a little too tight tells you otherwise.

You ground her gently, pulling her into your arms and resting your chin on her head. “It’s okay to not be fine, y’know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb along her back. Her shoulders relax slightly as she sighs against you, grateful that she doesn’t have to pretend.

When Angel’s having a manic episode or feeling overwhelmed, she needs time to herself. You’ve learned to respect those boundaries without taking it personally. Instead of pushing, you leave her a glass of water and a small snack nearby—a quiet reminder that you’re always there, even if she needs space.

On tough days, she’ll eventually crawl into bed with you after hours of isolation, curling up against your side. You say nothing, just pull the blanket over both of you, and let her rest with her head on your chest. "Thanks for waiting," she whispers into the darkness.

Being a model and YouTuber, Angel’s life can be exhausting—early photoshoots, constant editing, and keeping up with trends. But on her rare days off, she craves nothing more than lazy mornings in bed with you.

She’ll snuggle close under the covers, still half-asleep, and mumble, “Stay five more minutes,” even though she’s been saying that for the past hour. You stroke her hair, brushing stray strands away from her face, and she hums happily. “Okay…maybe ten more.”

Angel is big on little kisses—forehead pecks, kisses on the nose, or brushing her lips against your shoulder just because she feels like it. She thrives on those small moments of affection, each one grounding her a little more.

If you surprise her with a kiss mid-conversation, her face lights up with the sweetest smile. “Hey! No fair!” she laughs, though she’s already leaning in for another one.

Angel hides her sadness behind smiles, but in the quiet of night, when her mind finally slows, she feels safe enough to let the tears come. She won’t say much—just clings to you like a lifeline, shaking slightly as she lets out quiet sobs.

You hold her close, fingers running soothing patterns along her back, whispering soft reassurances. “You’re not alone, Angel. I’ve got you.” And for the first time in a while, she believes it.

When she spirals, her mind becomes a tangle of doubts and insecurities. She might lash out—not in anger but in frustration at herself. “Why do you even stay?” she asks in a voice that’s too quiet, too broken.

Your answer is simple and steady: “Because I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.” That reminder, spoken without hesitation, pulls her back from the edge every time.

Angel’s approach to intimacy is both playful and passionate. She likes to tease—trailing soft kisses along your skin, then giggling at your reactions. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little teasing?” she’ll say with a mischievous grin.

But underneath the playfulness is a need for closeness. When things get more intense, her giggles turn to breathless whispers, and she clings to you as if letting go would shatter her. In those moments, it’s not just about the physical connection—it’s about the emotional safety she finds in your arms.

Angel isn’t afraid to reach out when she needs you—whether she’s having a rough night or just wants to hear your voice. “I know it’s late, but… can we talk for a bit?” she’ll ask softly, voice tinged with vulnerability.

You stay on the line as long as she needs, reassuring her with every word. “I’m always here, Angel. No matter what.” And that promise means the world to her.

Even mundane moments with you feel intimate to her—like brushing your teeth together in the morning, or lying in bed scrolling through your phones, feet tangled under the blankets.

Sometimes, she’ll sit in your lap while editing her videos, needing the comfort of your presence even as she works. “You’re my good luck charm,” she says, kissing your cheek before diving back into her tasks.

Cooking with you is one of Angel’s favorite ways to unwind. She loves standing side-by-side in the kitchen, playfully stealing bites of food from your hands and swaying to the music playing in the background.

“If you burn the toast, I’ll still love you,” she jokes, though you both know she’s the one who always forgets the timer. When the meal is finally done, she’ll cuddle into you on the couch, whispering, “This is perfect.” And in that moment, it really is.

Angel sometimes struggles with sleep, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once. On those restless nights, she’ll crawl into your lap, nestling close, and murmur, “Can’t sleep… can you talk to me?”

You wrap your arms around her, holding her until the rhythm of your heartbeat starts to calm her down. Sometimes, you talk about anything—nonsense stories, funny memories, or what you’ll have for breakfast. Other times, you just hum softly, running your fingers through her hair.

“Stay like this forever,” she whispers drowsily, and though she falls asleep soon after, you keep holding her, content in the quiet intimacy.

After long filming days or stressful shoots, Angel tends to collapse into bed, drained and emotionally spent. She craves your touch most during these moments, melting into your embrace like she belongs there.

“Mmm… you’re my reward for surviving today,” she mumbles, cheek pressed to your chest. Her exhaustion shows in the way she clings to you, a silent request for comfort.

You stroke her back, pressing soft kisses into her hair, and promise, “I’m always here, Angel. No matter how tough it gets.” Her contented sigh tells you that’s exactly what she needed to hear.

Angel isn’t the jealous type—she trusts you completely—but that doesn’t mean the little pangs don’t sneak in sometimes, especially when work takes you away from her for too long.

“You know… you’ve been spending a lot of time with other people lately,” she’ll say with a teasing smile, though the underlying insecurity is evident.

You pull her close, kissing her forehead. “They’re not you. They could never be you.” Her smile turns real, and she presses herself tighter against you, content with the reassurance.

Mornings with Angel can be quiet and raw, especially after a rough night. She wakes up groggy, with her guard lowered, snuggling closer to you with a sleepy whimper.

On mornings like this, she doesn’t say much—just holds you as if anchoring herself. “Stay with me a little longer,” she whispers, her breath warm against your neck. You’re happy to oblige, brushing lazy kisses against her hair as the world outside waits.

Intimacy with Angel is equal parts playful and passionate. She likes to tease and challenge you, enjoying the push and pull. “Oh, think you’ve got me figured out?” she taunts, lips brushing against yours.

But there’s always tenderness beneath her teasing—a desire to be close, to connect on a level that feels safe. In those quieter moments, she melts against you, breath hitching as your touches become slower, more deliberate. “You feel so good,” she whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

She loves when things slow down, when it’s not just about the physical but the emotional closeness. You can tell from the way her fingers linger on your skin, like she’s savoring every second.

Angel tries to mask her sadness with jokes, but in the sanctuary of the bedroom, she knows she doesn’t have to pretend. Some nights, she’ll vent about the pressures of her work, her insecurities, or how overwhelming life feels.

“Sometimes I just… don’t feel good enough,” she admits softly, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. It’s not easy for her to be this open, but with you, she feels safe enough to try.

You cup her face gently, brushing away the stray tears. “You’re more than enough, Angel. I see you, and I love you for exactly who you are.” The look she gives you—full of gratitude and love—makes every tough moment worth it.

Angel doesn’t always need grand gestures—what she values most is your time and presence. Even just lying in bed with you, scrolling on your phones or watching random videos, feels special to her.

“You being here means everything,” she’ll say quietly, her hand resting on your chest as if to anchor herself. The way she smiles when you squeeze her hand makes it clear she means it.

During her worst splits, Angel sometimes pushes you away—not because she wants to but because she’s afraid of being a burden.

“You don’t have to stay,” she mumbles, curling into herself. But you do stay. You sit with her in the silence, gently running your fingers along her arm until she relaxes.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” you remind her softly. And when she finally looks up, her eyes are full of gratitude—and maybe a little hope.

Pillow talk with Angel is full of random, sleepy conversations—she’ll talk about her dream YouTube ideas, the weirdest trends she’s seen, or the cutest animal videos she found.

But sometimes, in the dead of night, her words turn softer, more vulnerable. “Do you think I’ll be okay?” she asks quietly, her fingers laced with yours.

“You’re already okay, Angel,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

For Angel, love is found in the quiet moments—the way you hold her when words aren’t enough, the way your fingers brush hers absentmindedly, the way you stay even when things get hard.

And as she drifts off to sleep in your arms, she knows she’s exactly where she belongs.

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melodyy-mel · 15 days ago

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Killer chat - Ronin,Misaki,Angel, and V Icons

These icons are based on / are characters from Killer Chat it's a really interesting game you should check out on itch.io !! And a little Birdy told me there might be a Christmas dlc soon !!!

The art is by a_sakanya please correct me if I'm wrong

And I wish you all a happy new year !!!

(I wanted to do banners but I'm tired and lazy ... )

#graphics #rentry graphics #rentry #rentry stuff #pfp icons #icons #killer chat #killer chat ronin #killer chat misaki #killer chat angel #killer chat vn #killer chat v x reader #ronin killer chat #ronin beaufort #maria de la rosa #misaki killer chat #angel killer chat #v killer chat

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killerelysia · 2 months ago

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Before the Midnight bell (part1)- Ronin x G.N Reader (Birthday special)

The world may never understand his love—may never see the beauty in the brokenness he had created—

Happy Birthday, Ronin!

I don’t know where to even begin, but here it goes.

I’ve never met anyone quite like you., and that’s what makes you so special. You’ve made me see the world in ways I didn’t think were possible—through the chaos, the darkness, and the little moments of strange beauty. You make everything feel… more intense. More alive.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for just being you—for your twisted way of caring, your brutal honesty, and the way you make me feel like the world is ours to twist and shape. You’ve always been my protector, even when it doesn’t look like it. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Today’s your day, and I want it to be as crazy and unforgettable as you are. Here’s to more madness, more chaos, and more love (in our own twisted way).

I’m lucky to share this ride with you, Ronin. I’ll always be here—through every bloody, beautiful moment.

Happy Birthday.

With all my weird little love, Y/N..

Hey, I hope this is real..?

Ronin x G.N Reader (It's a fallen angel reader from my fanfic for Ronin! I didn't finish it but Hehe Hehe!)

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 15k!

TW: Blood etc

How long!?

Ronin’s birthday was coming up, and for the first time, you felt both excitement and a hint of nervousness bubbling inside you. It wasn’t just any birthday this time—it was his first as your boyfriend. Your actual boyfriend. No manipulative games or quasi-relationship joke hiding behind twisted titles. This time, it was real.

The thought made your cheeks flush with warmth as you absentmindedly plucked at your sweater sleeve. What could you even do for him? Ronin wasn’t exactly the type to go all soft for traditional romantic gestures, but at the same time, he deserved something thoughtful. Something special.

When you couldn’t figure it out yourself, you turned to Angel for help.

The phone call had started simple—just asking her what kinds of things Ronin liked—but within minutes, it spiraled into giggles and brainstorming.

“Well,” Angel began, her voice teasing through the speaker. “For one, apple crumble ice cream. He’s obsessed. I swear, it’s like his one soft spot.”

You tilted your head, the corner of your lip tugging upward. “Ice cream?”

“Yes, and it has to be apple crumble. No substitutes.” She laughed lightly. “Also, anything horror-related. "You could probably scare him with some creepy prank and he’d still be grinning like an idiot. Oh! And vinyl records. He used to collect them like crazy. We’d spend hours in those little secondhand record stores."

“Wait, you guys used to date, huh?” you asked, more curious than anything else.

“Uh-huh.” Angel didn’t even try to sugarcoat it, her tone light and nonchalant. “But don’t worry, it’s ancient history. Besides, you’re better for him than I ever was.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “...Really?”

“Absolutely,” she said, warmth lacing her words. “Ronin’s a hard one to figure out, you know? But you... you don’t try to fix him. You’re just there. Healing him in your own way, piece by piece.”

The words settled in your chest, bringing a small, shy smile to your lips. You didn’t know about healing, but you did care about him—enough that jealousy didn’t even cross your mind when it came to his past. It was part of who he was, just like his sharp smirks and terrible habit of leaving his dirty boots on your couch.

“Well,” you said after a beat, grinning despite yourself. “I still need to figure out how to surprise him.”

Angel hummed thoughtfully before chiming in, “Okay, hear me out. What if you made the apple crumble ice cream? It’d mean way more than just buying it.”

Your eyes widened. “You think I could do that?”

“Absolutely. It’s easy! I’ll even send you the recipe. Trust me, he’ll love it.”

The idea lodged itself in your head, and before long, the two of you were laughing together, imagining Ronin’s surprise. It felt strange and wonderful—planning something sweet and thoughtful instead of just surviving the chaos of your usual lives.

“I can’t believe how cute you two have gotten,” Angel teased before the call ended. “You’re like this innocent little ray of sunshine, even after, y’know... the whole fallen angel thing.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, cheeks burning as you said goodbye and ended the call.

With the recipe saved on your phone and your determination set, you leaned back on the couch, mind swirling with ideas. This birthday was going to be perfect.

You were so lost in thought, though, that you didn’t notice the faint sound of footsteps creeping closer.

Suddenly, a voice whispered in your ear, low and playful. “Peekaboo.”

You yelped, jumping nearly a foot in the air, arms flailing as you landed unceremoniously on your butt.

Ronin doubled over with laughter, his crowbar leaning against the wall as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, my god, the way you jumped—” He barely got the words out between fits of cackling.

“Ronin!” you whined, pouting as you rubbed your sore tailbone. “That’s not funny!”

“It’s hilarious,” he countered, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You did the full Mickey Mouse jump and everything. You should’ve seen your face.”

You crossed your arms, trying to glare at him, but the laughter bubbling beneath his grin was contagious. Before you knew it, you were laughing too, the sound light and unguarded.

Ronin plopped down beside you on the floor, still smirking. “So, what were you sitting here looking so serious about? You looked like you were trying to solve a math problem or something.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the recipe still glowing on your phone screen. Panicking, you quickly locked the screen and tucked the phone behind you. “N-nothing!” you stammered. “Just... thinking!”

He raised a brow, clearly skeptical but not pushing it. “Mm-hmm. Sure.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the quiet filling the space between his teasing and your flustered silence. His presence was warm beside you, grounding in a way that made your racing thoughts slow just a little.

“You’re weird, y’know that?” he said suddenly, his tone lighter.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Most people would’ve run for the hills by now. But you? You’re still here. Still all...” He gestured vaguely at you, his lips quirking into an almost affectionate smirk. “...you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you glanced away, hugging your knees to your chest. “Well... I guess I just like being around you.”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced back, you caught a flicker of something soft in his expression before he covered it up with his usual bravado.

“Whatever, angel,” he muttered, ruffling your hair as he stood up. “Don’t go breaking anything while I’m gone.”

You huffed, smoothing your hair back down as he sauntered off, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

This birthday was going to be perfect. He might tease you for being so earnest, but you knew deep down he’d appreciate it. Because underneath all the posturing, Ronin cared—maybe even more than he let on.

And you? You cared too. Enough to try, to surprise him, to make this the best birthday he’d ever had.

Ronin extended his hand to you, still grinning from ear to ear, his laughter tapering off into soft chuckles. You took his hand, and he effortlessly pulled you to your feet, the smirk on his face never faltering.

“You good?” he asked, tilting his head, clearly still amused by your earlier reaction.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, brushing yourself off and trying to recover what little dignity you had left. “And for the record, you’re terrible for scaring me like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst,” he teased, his voice dripping with faux arrogance. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile betrayed you. “Anyway,” you said, trying to steer the conversation, “I actually... prepared something for you.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow quirked, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Prepared something? What, like food?”

“Yes, like food.” You placed your hands on your hips, trying to act exasperated. “I thought maybe you’d like a decent meal for once, instead of... I don’t know, whatever you scrape together while you’re out doing... whatever it is you do.”

His grin widened, and he stepped closer, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You cooked for me?”

You nodded, cheeks warming as you looked away. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I do this every day.”

“Well, color me impressed,” he said, leaning back with a lazy smirk. “Guess I’ll have to see if it’s edible first.”

“Ronin!” you huffed, playfully smacking his arm.

He laughed, stepping aside and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Lead the way, chef.”

The two of you moved to the kitchen, where you’d already plated the food you made. Ronin eyed the spread, his expression unreadable as he took it all in.

“Looks good,” he admitted, surprising you. But as he leaned forward to inspect it, he added, “Though I didn’t get any blood on my mouth today, so I’m not sure if it’ll hit the spot.”

You froze for a second, his casual tone catching you off guard. “Uh... you mean...”

“Killing,” he said nonchalantly, grabbing a fork and poking at the food. “Been doing a lot of it lately. Guess you noticed, huh?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. “Well... yeah. I mean, you’ve been, uh, busy. Is there... a reason for it?”

Ronin’s hand paused, his fork hovering just above his plate. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, his usual playful demeanor seemed to dim.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said finally, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

“Okay,” you said softly, nodding like the obedient little toy he seemed to think you were.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re cute when you do that, y’know. All wide-eyed and nodding like that. Like you’re afraid to push me too far.”

“I just...” You trailed off, unsure how to respond.

He smirked again, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. “Relax, angel. I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask me to.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly changed the subject. “You must be tired. Why don’t we do something fun instead? Take your mind off... whatever it is.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Fun, huh? What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something. Anything. Just... not work. You deserve a break.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Alright, how about this—are you free tomorrow?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Good,” he said, his smirk growing. “Then clear your schedule. I’ve got plans for us

After dinner, the night began to wind down. You stretched your arms over your head, stifling a yawn as you cleared the plates and tucked them into the sink for tomorrow’s version of you to handle. Ronin was already on his way to the bedroom, casually stripping off his hoodie as he went. You didn’t miss the way his muscles moved under the dim light, but you quickly turned away, trying not to overthink it.

As you tidied up a few last-minute things, the thought of sleep became more and more appealing. But not before you indulged in one of your newfound comforts: stealing Ronin’s clothes.

You grabbed one of his oversized hoodies from the back of a chair and slipped into it, the fabric smelling faintly of motor oil, leather, and something distinctly him. It hung loosely on your frame, swallowing you in its warmth. Pairing it with a pair of shorts, you shuffled toward the bedroom, relishing the small joys that came with being close to him.

When you entered, Ronin was already sprawled on the bed, scrolling lazily through his phone. His legs were crossed, and he looked like the epitome of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, before a familiar urge bubbled up.

“Alright,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “Bedtime.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sound like my mom. What’s next, tucking me in?”

You grinned, already making your way to his side of the bed. “Exactly that.”

He groaned, exaggerated and dramatic, but didn’t stop you as you grabbed the blankets and started fussing over him.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.

“And yet, you’re letting me do this,” you teased, tucking the blanket snugly around him like he was some kind of overgrown child.

He rolled his eyes but stayed still, indulging you with a resigned sigh. “Happy now?”

“Very,” you replied, stepping back to admire your handiwork.

You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “Good night, Ronin.”

Turning toward the couch on the far side of the room, you started to make your way over, already mentally preparing for the uneven cushions.

But before you could settle in, you felt a tug on your wrist. You looked down to see Ronin’s hand gripping yours, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

“Going to sleep?” you replied, a little confused by the question.

“On the couch?” He tugged again, gently this time. “You’re my partner now. Why are you still sleeping over there?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to address it so directly. “I... I didn’t think you’d mind,” you said softly. “I just—”

“You just what?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was a weight to it, an insistence that you answer honestly.

You hesitated, your free hand fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I thought... maybe you’d prefer it that way. Because of... you know.”

Ronin’s expression darkened slightly, but his grip on your wrist didn’t falter. “Because of Ther?” he asked bluntly, cutting through your hesitation.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to make you feel like I was... trying to replace them. I know I can’t. And I wouldn’t want to. I just... I thought maybe it’d be easier for you if I kept some distance.”

He let out a long breath, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. “What do you think of me?”

“What?”

“I’m asking what you think,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re the one who’s scared I’m hung up on someone else. Do you think I’m the type to do that to you?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I don’t think you’d ever see Ther in someone else. You’re... you’re not like that. You care too much, even if you don’t like showing it.”

He smirked faintly at that, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade.

“I just...” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I know you loved them. And I know I’m not them. But that’s okay. I don’t need to be. I’m just happy I get to be part of your life, even if it’s not the same.”

For a moment, Ronin didn’t say anything. His eyes searched yours, his usual post-ironic mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw underneath.

Then, slowly, a grin broke across his face, though it was softer than usual. “You’re something else,” he said, shaking his head.

You smiled back at him, feeling a little lighter. “So... we’re okay?”

“More than okay,” he said. “But if you think I’m letting you sleep on that couch again, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Before you could protest, he tugged on your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. You stumbled slightly, but he caught you, his hands firm yet gentle as they guided you onto the mattress.

“Ronin—”

“Nope,” he said, cutting you off. “No arguments. You’re staying here.”

You looked at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “Unless you’ve got a problem with it.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “No problem.”

“Good.” He shifted to make room for you, pulling the blankets over the both of you. “Now get some sleep, angel.

The quiet settled in as you nestled closer against Ronin’s chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security. For all his sharp edges, Ronin had a warmth to him, one that you craved more than you liked to admit. His arm draped loosely around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, and you could feel the slight tension in his hold, like he wasn’t entirely sure how much was too much.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of his hoodie. “Ronin?”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled, his eyes half-lidded, but you could tell he was still awake.

“Can I ask you something?”

He groaned softly, cracking one eye open. “You’re not about to get all serious on me right before bed, are you?”

“No,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “It’s just... something I’ve been thinking about.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push you away. “Alright, spit it out.”

You hesitated, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “You’re really... um, touchy, sometimes. Like, not in a bad way! I mean, I like it.” You tripped over your words, your face heating up as you tried to explain. “I just... you seem like you need it. A lot.”

Ronin let out a low, dramatic groan, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not seriously analyzing my cuddle habits, are you?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed but also determined to ask. “I’m not analyzing! I’m just curious. Is it... a thing for you? Being touchy, I mean.”

His eyes flicked back to you, and for a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual sarcastic comments. But instead, he sighed, his hand running through his plum-colored hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Guess you could say I’m a bit touch-starved. Always have been.”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. “Touch-starved?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what it means,” he said, smirking slightly. “I’m not gonna spell it out for you.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I know what it means! I just... I didn’t think you’d say it like that. You’re so... you.”

He snorted, his fingers tapping lightly against your hip. “Yeah, well, even I’ve got my shit, alright? Not exactly a lot of hugs going around in my past. So, sue me if I’m a little touchy right now."

He stiffened for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t start with me.”

“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“You’re not teasing,” he said flatly. “You think you’re teasing, but you’re not.”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I totally am!”

He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Kid, you don’t have a teasing bone in your body. It’s cute, though. Like watching a puppy try to bark for the first time.”

You frowned, trying to think of something witty to say back, but your mind drew a blank. Instead, you settled for sticking your tongue out at him, which only made him laugh harder.

“See? Case in point,” he said, his smirk widening.

You huffed, turning away from him, but his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual sarcasm. “I’m not complaining. You being... you? That’s what makes it good. So don’t go trying to change it, alright?”

You turned back to him, your cheeks warm as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, resting his chin on top of your head. “Now go to sleep before you make me say more sappy shit.”

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. “Good night, Ronin.”

“Night, angel.”

Ronin stretched out on the bed, his body heavy with the kind of groggy satisfaction that came from sleeping far longer than he usually allowed himself. He blinked a few times, his gaze shifting to the empty space beside him. You were gone.

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and he rubbed at his face. Fresh air, maybe? he thought, letting his arm flop onto the bed. He wasn’t the clingy type, a mantra he didn’t quite believe but stubbornly repeated anyway. Touch-starved, not needy EVEN NOT THAT!, he muttered internally, rolling out of bed.

Still, the quiet absence in the room felt louder than it should have. As he threw on his hoodie and padded down the hall, he shook his head.

Shut it, Ronin

His own voice in his mind was sharp, scolding. They’re not your lifeline, and you don’t need someone to hold your damn hand through every second of the day.

He paused at the door to the garage, his gaze drifting over the tools hanging neatly on the walls. Ironic, wasn’t it? How someone like him, who prided himself on rejecting everything Christianity had tried to hammer into his skull, found solace in someone like you. A figure who seemed to embody everything he’d hated about faith: hope, forgiveness, devotion. Yet, here he was, falling into step with you without ever realizing it. You weren’t an answer to a prayer—Ronin didn’t pray anymore. But somehow, you’d become something he couldn’t deny. Something he hadn’t planned. You left everything for him too. He knows it was for your own good according to him.

But-----

He scoffed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned toward the basement. A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he followed it, his boots creaking against the wooden stairs as he descended.

There you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor with your phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. You were so focused you didn’t even hear him approach until his voice broke the silence.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

You flinched so hard your phone nearly flew out of your hands. “Jeez, Ronin!” you said, clutching your chest. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?”

His smirk spread slowly, a smug, lopsided thing. “I wasn’t sneaking. You’re just jumpy. Seriously, though. The basement? What’re you doing?”

You scrambled to your feet, your cheeks flushing as you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Nothing! I just… needed some fresh air.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more stupidly amused. “Fresh air? In the basement? Yeah, sure. Makes perfect sense.”

You huffed, brushing past him and heading for the stairs. “I needed to think, okay? That’s all. Now go shower or something. I’ll make breakfast.”

He followed you up the stairs, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, his grin never fading. “You speed-walkin’ away like that doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’ What were you really doing, huh? Secretly plotting my downfall? Finding new ways to make me eat actual vegetables?”

You whirled around at the top of the stairs, pointing a finger at him. “Ronin, I swear, if you don’t go take a shower right now, I’m not making you breakfast.”

He leaned against the wall, tilting his head as he looked at you with a mock pout. “A threat? Really? That’s what we’re doing now?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “Because you’re being insufferable, and I have important things to do.”

“Important things,” he echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like what? Let me guess, you’re planning to—”

“Go. Shower,” you interrupted, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You probably smell like… like murder or something.”

He laughed at that, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Murder smells better than you’d think, angel.”

“Ronin!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m going. But this breakfast better be worth it, or you’re never living this down.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he finally turned toward the bathroom. As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a sigh of relief. He was impossible, but… he was also Ronin. And that was enough to make you smile as you headed for the kitchen.

Ronin leaned back in his chair, his plate of food mostly untouched as he watched you. You were fidgeting with your phone, tapping your fingers against the floor, your knee bouncing with a restless energy he didn’t usually see in you. You were distracted, anxious—he could tell. The corner of his mouth twitched downward.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, like he was fishing for something.

You froze, your eyes snapping to his like you’d been caught red-handed. “Nothing,” you blurted, clutching your phone to your chest. “Just… nothing important.”

His brow arched. “Yeah? ‘Cause you look like you’re planning a jailbreak or something. Come on, show me.”

You shook your head so quickly it was almost comical. “No, please don’t ask,” you said softly, your voice almost pleading.

That stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure if it was the tone or the look in your eyes, but something about it made him back off. “Alright, fine. Keep your secrets,” he said, grabbing his fork and focusing on his plate instead.

The tension eased slightly as you took a breath, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there. But then, you stood abruptly, brushing your hands on your pants like you were gearing up for something.

“I’m going out,” you said, your voice a little too chipper.

Ronin’s fork clattered against his plate as he stared at you. “You’re what?”

“I’m going somewhere. It’s… important,” you said, heading toward the door before he could ask more questions.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “The hell do you mean ‘important’? Since when do you have places to be? All you know is this house. What’s so important you’re just up and leaving now?”

You hesitated, your hand on the doorframe, and then turned back to him with a nervous smile. “It’s something I saw online, and I’ve wanted to check it out in person for a while. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Ronin squinted at you, his confusion evident. You weren’t making any sense, and that only made him more suspicious. But the way you smiled at him—genuine, if not a little nervous—made him hold his tongue.

“Fine,” he said after a long pause. “Go do… whatever. Just don’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t!” you chirped, practically skipping toward your room to get dressed.

Ronin stayed at the table, staring at your empty seat with a frown. He’d told himself over and over that he wasn’t the clingy type, but your sudden departure left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn’t like you to leave like this, especially not after you’d been so jittery all morning. And after the fall? You barely left the house unless it was with him.

He drummed his fingers against the table, muttering under his breath. “The hell is this about?”

The thought of following you crossed his mind for a split second, but he dismissed it just as quickly. He wasn’t that petty. Besides, you weren’t the type to run off and… see someone else. No, this was something different.

Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. His birthday was tomorrow, and while he’d never been the kind of guy to care much about celebrating, he’d been looking forward to spending the day with you. It wasn’t about the gifts or the attention—it was about having someone who actually gave a damn.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe you really had found something online and decided to check it out. But that didn’t explain why you’d been acting so weird.

he sat there, his thoughts swirling, he couldn’t help but feel a little… disappointed. For someone who claimed they didn’t care about birthdays, he sure was hoping this one would be different.

Meanwhile, in your room, you were frantically changing into something casual but nice, your heart racing as you double-checked everything you needed. You weren’t great at lying to Ronin—he could read you like an open book—but you’d managed to keep your plan under wraps.

Tomorrow was his birthday, and you wanted to make it special. Not just for him, but for you, too. It was the first birthday you’d get to celebrate with him as his partner, and you were determined to make it memorable.

As you slipped out of the house, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for leaving without telling him the truth. But if you could pull this off, it would all be worth it.

Ronin, meanwhile, stayed seated at the table, his thoughts gnawing at him. What the hell is going on? he thought, rubbing at the back of his neck. You weren’t one to keep secrets, and the fact that you had one now was driving him insane.

He didn’t know where you were going, but he wasn’t about to follow. He wasn’t that guy. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to—and why it felt like it had something to do with him.

After you left, Ronin found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, staring at nothing in particular. He muttered to himself as he finally picked up his plate and tossed the leftovers into the trash.

“Off doing some secret mission,” he grumbled. “You’re getting soft, Ronin. Too soft.”

Shaking his head, he decided to push the thoughts aside. There was work to do, after all. His garage was already buzzing by the time he headed out, and he quickly threw himself into fixing up bikes and cars, his usual clientele trickling in.

For the first couple of hours, he let his mind go blank, focusing only on the familiar rhythm of the tools in his hands. But as time went on, a different kind of restlessness crept in. Every time a customer walked through the door, he’d scan them, sizing them up, seeing if there was something interesting about them. Someone who deserved to end up on the wrong end of his crowbar.

Unfortunately, the day was as dull as they came. No one stood out—not even the cocky guy with a busted muffler who tried to haggle the price down.

Ronin sighed as he wiped the grease from his hands, watching the man leave. “Boring,” he muttered under his breath. “Pathetic. You’re all safe today, losers.”

After a few moments of silence, Ronin’s phone buzzed. His face lit up with a smirk as he saw the notification—his server chat, where he and his lovely crew always kept things lively. He opened it, and the first thing he saw was Luca’s message.

Luca (username: Luca): "So, how's your dear Angel from the sky?

Ronin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped him. Luca never changed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Pathetic, Well, your opinion doesn’t matter, now does it?"

Feli (username: Felicite): "I hope they're fine? "

Ronin scrolled down, his phone lighting up with Angel's message right after.

Angel (username: Angelicc): "Hey, where’s Y/N? I thought you two were together today?"

Ronin paused for a moment, thinking about how to answer. He didn’t want to mention anything about you leaving; he didn’t want them to see that as a crack in the perfect image he liked to keep up. Not yet.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "They left. Said something about seeing something online. You know how they get."

Misaki responded almost immediately, and Ronin’s lips curled up into a smirk as he read her message.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Better not be some man/woman thing. You know Y/N’s too innocent for that, right? Can barely handle an app without getting confused."

Ronin snorted in amusement, knowing it was true. You were still getting the hang of apps, and there were so many times he’d had to explain things to you in the past. But he loved that about you, how... innocent you still were in that regard. He felt protective, even though he didn’t always show it.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "You’re giving them too much credit. They’re too dumb to even deal with that. They’re clueless about half the apps on their phone. But sure, let’s pretend it’s some big mystery."

Misaki shot back quickly.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Not really dumb. Pretty cute, actually. Wouldn’t you agree, Ronin?"

Ronin rolled his eyes. Misaki never could resist teasing him.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, they’re cute. That’s about it, though."

The messages from the server continued to pour in as he scrolled, his attention flicking between his phone and the work he had to finish. That’s when V’s message appeared in his inbox.

V (username: K9): Why do you sound so gloomy? Everything alright, Ronin?

Ronin’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he stared at the message, unsure if he should respond. V had always been quiet, and his sudden concern felt out of place. Why would V care?

He typed back quickly, trying to brush it off.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, I’m fine. Just dealing with some shit, nothing new. No need to worry about it."

But V didn’t let it go. Instead, he sent a follow-up message that immediately caught Ronin off guard.

V (username: K9): Seriously, though. You ever thought about what Misaki said? About Y/N?

Ronin stopped in his tracks, staring at the screen. What the hell did Misaki say? He hadn’t even processed it fully. Was V really pulling this line of questioning?

He smirked, typing his reply with his usual post-ironic attitude.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Since when did my angel start caring about Y/N?"

V (username: K9): It’s not about that. Just wondering if you’ve really thought about it. You’re kind of in deep with them, huh?

Ronin couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. He quickly typed out his response, brushing it off as he always did.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "No, I haven’t thought about it. Even if it’s true, I don’t care. Doesn’t change anything. Just a person, right?"

There was a brief silence on V’s end, but before Ronin could move on, Misaki’s message came flooding in.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Even if you think so, Ronin, you’re way too defensive. And don’t get me started on how cute Y/N is. No one else would look at them like you do, and you know it!"

Ronin’s smirk twisted into something more genuine. He didn’t mind their teasing—it was part of the game. But Misaki was right about one thing: you were special. He just didn’t have the words to explain it. Hell, even he didn’t fully get it.

He paused for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard again. Then, with a shrug, he typed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Alright, alright, sure. But you all know what I’m about. Y/N can be anyone. They’re not the only one in my world."

There was a brief pause before Luca decided to chime in.

Luca (username: Luca): "Is that the case? Because I’m not so sure, man. I think you’re just mad because they left to go check something out. Don’t tell me it’s all part of some big plan to be ‘post-ironic’ again."

Misaki, though, immediately defended you, even if they hadn’t met you in person.

Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Don’t be an asshole, Luca. You know nothing about Y/N. You don’t get to say shit. Even if I haven’t met them, I can tell that Ronin wouldn’t be the way he is if they weren’t worth it."

The chat immediately went quiet after that, all eyes seemingly on Ronin to respond.

Ronin just sat there, his phone in his hand, considering his words carefully. Did they really think he didn’t know? But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t just a game like the others. You were his own twisted, confusing connection—and that was something no one in this chat could ever truly understand. He finally typed.

Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, maybe you’re right. Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it. We’re good."

And with that, he leaned back, the phone buzzing with more messages from the others, but his mind was elsewhere. Even if he acted like he didn’t care—hell, even if he convinced himself he didn’t—there was something different about you, something that made him want to keep this mess going. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing… or the worst thing to ever happen to him.

The air in the mall buzzed with a mix of soft music and distant chatter. You hadn’t expected to spend the day shopping, but something inside you knew you needed to find the perfect gift for Ronin. The kind of gift that wasn’t just about the usual routine, but something that spoke of your own emotions—something personal. It felt strange, this need to get him something that would signify the bond between you two, but you couldn’t shake the thought. After all, he was unpredictable, dark, and elusive in a way that made you want to prove your place in his chaotic world.

You walked into the store, the doors chiming softly as you entered. It was a gothic-themed boutique, filled with black velvet, chains, silver jewelry, and intricate designs that seemed to speak to a part of you that mirrored Ronin's own twisted love for all things dark and bizarre. A shopkeeper, a young woman in her mid-20s with sharp eyeliner and a soft, almost mischievous smile, greeted you immediately.

"Hello there! You’ve come to the right place," she said brightly, clasping her hands together. "We’ve got all sorts of goth accessories. Are you looking for something special today?" She leaned in closer, her excitement almost contagious.

You hesitated, but her enthusiasm made you smile. "I’m looking for something for someone," you replied, trying not to give away too much. "Maybe something… meaningful?"

"Oh, I love that," she gushed, nodding enthusiastically. "We have so many things that could symbolize, like, special connections!" She started leading you to the display, her eyes practically gleaming with the knowledge of all the dark, romantic pieces the store had.

The first thing she showed you was a set of chokers, each one adorned with gothic symbols and sharp, silver spikes. There was a particularly striking one that had Devil May God Forgive You engraved on it in intricate cursive. The leather strap seemed almost too harsh, too forward. You almost smiled, wondering if Ronin would appreciate it—or if he’d mock you for it.

"That one’s a classic," the girl said, catching your eye. "But maybe you want something a bit more, uh, subtle? We’ve got the sorry Christ one, if you’re feeling more... repentant." She winked at you as she pulled a smooth, black velvet choker from the shelf, adorned with a small silver cross, almost like a twisted apology.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. "Maybe not that one." The thought of Ronin wearing something like that made you feel both embarrassed and amused.

She didn’t seem deterred and moved on to the next set, showing you a row of necklaces with heavy silver chains, pendants shaped like daggers, skulls, and moons, each one glinting under the soft lighting of the shop. But nothing seemed right.

You continued browsing, feeling the weight of several bags already hanging from your arms. You had picked up a few things along the way—nothing for Ronin, but a few trinkets that spoke to your own taste, like a black mesh top that would look stunning on you and some more accessories for yourself. As you walked past rows of velvet jackets, platform boots, and studded gloves, your eyes landed on a small glass case in the back.

Inside, nestled on a bed of black satin, was a set of earrings—one pair stood out above the rest. They were elegant, simple, but undeniably gothic. Two ruby stones set in dark silver, their deep red hues striking against the cool tones of the metal. The moment your eyes fell on them, you felt a tug in your chest. That’s it.

The shopkeeper, noticing your gaze, practically floated over to you. "Ah, I see you’ve found them! Those are our best sellers." She gave you a knowing look. "Ruby stones symbolize pure love and passion, you know. I think that’s exactly what you’re looking for, right? Something that shows just how deep that connection is." She smiled sweetly, her voice softer now, almost as if she were reading you.

You blinked, a little startled by her insight. "Yeah, I think so," you replied, reaching for the case. The cool metal of the earrings felt smooth between your fingers, and you could almost feel them calling to you.

"Those are beautiful," the girl said, eyes sparkling with excitement. "And trust me, the stones are very meaningful. It’s like a declaration of something deep, something eternal. I think your person will absolutely love them." She grinned at you, her smile wide and warm, but her eyes seemed to be probing a little more than necessary, reading the situation in a way you couldn’t fully place.

"I’ll take them," you said quickly, not wanting to waste another second.

"Perfect choice!" she replied, practically bouncing as she wrapped the earrings carefully in black tissue paper, placing them into a sleek, black gift bag with a silver ribbon.

You grinned at her, almost feeling the weight of the gift in your hand before it was even given. There was something about the way she treated you like a kindred spirit that made the whole experience feel oddly... intimate.

After she handed you the bag, you spent the next few moments gathering the other bags you had collected during your impromptu shopping spree. But your attention kept flickering back to the earrings, the symbolism of the ruby stones, and how Ronin would react. It felt almost like you were giving him a piece of your own heart, a little piece of something that, no matter how dark, still burned with passion and meaning.

Once you had everything packed, you gave the shopkeeper a smile, and she waved goodbye with a kindhearted "Good luck!"

You wandered deeper into the mall, the weight of your shopping bags growing heavier with each store you visited. The bags clinked softly with various treasures you’d collected—everything from clothes with edgy prints to accessories that screamed emo-geek chic. Mesh tops, studded belts, and fingerless gloves found their way into your collection, along with some black denim and a hoodie that looked like it belonged in a gothic fairytale.

Every piece you picked out reminded you of Ronin in some way, as though each item was a part of a puzzle that would make him smirk or—if you were lucky—maybe even smile.

Then, you stumbled upon a quaint, old-fashioned sewing-on-the-spot shop tucked away in a quiet corner of the mall. The sign was hand-painted, the letters slightly faded, and the interior smelled faintly of lavender and aged thread. Curious, you stepped inside, the bell above the door jingling softly.

Behind the counter, an older woman with sharp eyes and nimble fingers sat, stitching something intricate onto a fabric square. Her gaze flickered up at you, assessing, before she offered a small nod of approval.

"Well, well," she said, her voice raspy but kind. "Haven’t seen one of your kind here in a while. What can I do for you, youngster?"

You hesitated, looking around the shop. "I was wondering... could you help me make something? A, um, beanie?" Your voice wavered slightly, but the old woman raised an eyebrow and set down her needle.

"Beanie, eh? What kind of beanie are we talking about? Don’t tell me it’s one of those devilish ones," she said, half-joking, though her tone carried a touch of judgment.

You blushed, feeling heat creep up your neck. "Actually, yes," you admitted sheepishly, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of one of your bags. "With little horns, maybe?"

The woman let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Kids these days," she muttered, but there was no malice in her voice. She motioned for you to come closer. "All right, let’s see what we can do. Pick a fabric."

You chose a soft, black material, perfect for a cozy yet rebellious look. As the woman worked, she couldn’t resist making little comments.

"Back in my day, we didn’t need to wear things with horns to stand out," she said, her hands moving expertly as she sewed. "Just a good attitude and a strong heart. Not like these flimsy trends now."

You couldn’t help but smile nervously, nodding along. "Yeah, I guess things are different now." You hesitated before adding, "It’s actually for my... boyfriend." The word felt strange on your tongue, almost foreign, but at the same time, it warmed your chest. Boyfriend. Was that what Ronin was?

The old woman paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Boyfriend, huh?" she echoed, her voice teasing. "Well, aren’t you the sweetest? Making something by hand, no less. That’s rare these days. He better appreciate it."

You blushed harder, feeling the weight of her words. The thought of giving Ronin the beanie, seeing him wear it, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I hope he likes it," you said softly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the counter.

As the woman finished sewing, your ring finger caught on a stray needle, and you winced as a sharp sting jolted through your hand. A single drop of blood welled up on the tip of your finger. The pain was fleeting, but the odd thing was the spot it hit—right where a ring might go.

"Careful," the woman scolded gently, handing you a tissue. "Don’t want to ruin that pretty finger of yours."

You nodded, murmuring a quiet thanks as you dabbed at the small wound. For a moment, you stared at your finger, an odd ache blooming in your chest. It was as if the sting wasn’t just physical. Maybe it was the weight of all these emotions, or the fact that you were human now, no longer the celestial being you once were. It felt heavy, strange, but also... right.

"All done," the woman said, holding up the finished beanie. It was perfect—soft, black, with two small devil horns stitched on top. You smiled, your heart swelling with pride and gratitude.

"Thank you," you said, taking the beanie and carefully placing it in one of your bags.

Your next stop was the hardware store. The clean, metallic smell of tools and equipment greeted you as you stepped inside. You immediately made a beeline for the mechanics section, knowing exactly what you were looking for.

You grabbed a brand-new set of tools—everything from wrenches to screwdrivers—then spotted something that made you pause: a crowbar. It was sleek, black, and looked like it was practically made for Ronin.

He’d love this, you thought, picking it up. As you turned it over in your hands, you couldn’t help but imagine him holding it, smirking that cocky grin of his as he teased you about your thoughtfulness.

By the time you left the store, your arms were weighed down with even more bags, but your heart felt light. Between the beanie, the earrings, and now the tools and crowbar, you felt like you were putting together pieces of a puzzle that only Ronin would fully understand.

You entered the cake shop, the sweet, sugary scent of fresh-baked goods wafting through the air and immediately making your stomach growl. The shop was warm and inviting, with a cozy little kitchen at the back where customers could make cakes from scratch on the spot. It had a rustic charm, with wooden counters and old-fashioned decorations that made it feel like a place where magic could happen—where you could create something special with your own hands.

As you approached the counter, one of the ladies behind it looked up and smiled warmly at you. "Oh, how cute! You're going to make a cake? And for your boyfriend, you say?" Her voice was sweet and almost teasing, but there was genuine warmth in her eyes as she looked at you.

"Yeah... it's his birthday tomorrow," you replied softly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. It felt a little strange saying it out loud, but the words "my boyfriend" felt more real every time you said them. You smiled at the thought of Ronin, his dark eyes, his sarcastic smirk... and that weird, almost tender side of him that you knew was there.

"Well, aren't you sweet? A special cake for a special guy. What are you making?" she asked, clearly eager to see your creation.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. "I think... an apple crumble cake. I found a recipe from someone... she’s really good at baking. It’s a surprise."

The lady's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Apple crumble cake, huh? That sounds delicious! Well, we'll make sure you do a fantastic job. Just follow the steps and take your time."

You nodded, feeling reassured. This was your chance to make something perfect for Ronin. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him enjoying something you made just for him.

With a deep breath, you rolled up your sleeves and began.

Apple Crumble Cake Recipe Steps:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). You carefully adjusted the oven, feeling a slight excitement building in your chest. It was the first step to making the cake come to life.

2. Prepare the crumble topping. You took a bowl and combined the dry ingredients for the crumble. You mixed together 1 cup of flour, 1/2 cup of sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon. Then you added 1/2 cup of cold butter, cutting it into chunks before using your fingers to rub the butter into the dry ingredients until it formed a crumbly texture. The buttery scent filled the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

"Looking good!" the lady behind the counter said, noticing your progress. "You're doing great!"

You smiled shyly and continued, feeling a little more confident. You set the crumble aside, ready for the next step.

3. Prepare the apple filling. Next, you peeled and sliced 3 medium apples, cutting them into thin pieces. You sprinkled 1 tablespoon of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon over them, tossing them together in a bowl to coat the apples evenly. The sweet aroma of the apples mixed with the cinnamon made you feel cozy, almost nostalgic.

4. Mix the cake batter. In another bowl, you combined 1 1/2 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, and a pinch of salt. In a separate bowl, you whisked 1/2 cup of sugar and 1/4 cup of softened butter until creamy. You added in 2 eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Then, you alternated adding the dry ingredients and 1/2 cup of milk, mixing until the batter was smooth and thick.

5. Assemble the cake. You greased the cake pan and poured the batter into the bottom, smoothing it out evenly. Then, you carefully arranged the apple slices on top, creating a beautiful layer of apples. Finally, you sprinkled the crumble mixture over the apples, making sure every bit of the cake had a sweet, crunchy topping.

"You've got this!" the lady cheered as you placed the pan in the oven. "Just bake it for about 45 minutes, or until the top is golden and the cake is cooked through."

You set the timer, your excitement building as you imagined Ronin's reaction. The cake was still baking, but you could already picture him, leaning against the counter, that smirk tugging at his lips as he took the first bite.

As the cake baked, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon filled the shop, making your stomach rumble again. The lady at the counter was busy helping other customers, but she occasionally glanced over at you, giving you encouraging smiles.

When the timer finally went off, you carefully pulled the apple crumble cake from the oven. The golden topping and the caramelized apples glistened in the soft light of the bakery, and you couldn't help but feel proud. It looked perfect—just like the surprise you wanted to give Ronin.

"Wow, that looks amazing!" one of the other ladies exclaimed as she came over to inspect. "You're a natural!"

You blushed, feeling shy again. "I hope he likes it."

They all gathered around, admiring the cake with smiles, their eyes twinkling with warmth. "He’s going to love it," the first lady said, "and it’s so sweet of you to make it for him yourself."

You grinned, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. Despite all the nerves and the uncertainty about Ronin's feelings, you knew one thing for sure: this cake, this surprise, was your way of showing him just how much you cared.

"Thank you so much for your help," you said, handing over the empty bowls and utensils. "This really means a lot to me."

"No problem at all, sweetie!" the lady said, her voice full of affection. "You come back anytime if you need any more help."

With a cake box in hand, filled with your creation, you left the shop, feeling more confident than ever. You had the perfect gift for Ronin, and you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see his reaction.

It was going to be a birthday he would never forget.

You were struggling to carry all the bags, your hands full of everything from gothic jewelry to new mechanics equipment and the ingredients for the cake you’d just made. The weight of it all made your arms ache, and you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as you tried to juggle everything. You were so focused on keeping everything from falling that you didn’t hear your phone ring at first.

When you finally glanced at the screen, you saw Angel’s name flashing in bold letters.

"Hey," you answered, trying to sound casual as you shifted the bags in your arms, feeling your fingers beginning to cramp. "What's up?"

"How are you?" Angel’s voice came through, light and cheerful, but there was a slight teasing undertone. "Seems like you left Ronin’s early this morning, huh?"

You bit your lip, trying to focus on walking straight without tripping over your own feet. "Yeah, just bought stuff... a lot of stuff," you said, a sigh slipping from your lips. "I don’t even know how I’m gonna carry all this back."

Angel laughed lightly. "Sounds like you’ve been busy," she teased. "You know, if you want, I can get a taxi for you. Just send me your address, and I’ll make sure you’re all set."

You glanced around, the thought of navigating the rest of the trip home with all this in hand was making you more exhausted by the second. "It’s fine, really. I can manage," you said, though your voice had a slight tinge of defeat. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate her offer, but you didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle it.

"Okay, but seriously, let me know if you change your mind. Don’t be stubborn," she replied with a chuckle, then her tone shifted slightly. "So, um… do you think it’s okay if the server keeps Ronin tomorrow for a while? I mean, just to give you some space, you know? It’s his birthday, and… well, I was thinking it might be nice if he gets a little time with the others."

You paused for a moment, contemplating her question. It was a small thing, but it was also a little strange to think about. "Yeah, that’s fine," you replied, your voice a little softer now. "Ronin’s not the type to care about stuff like that. He probably won’t even notice."

Angel’s voice was warm, a little teasing but understanding. "Well, I’m sure you’ll make up for it later," she said with a wink in her tone. "You’ve got all that cool stuff, right? And that cake—he’s gonna love it."

You smiled at the thought, the cake was a simple thing, but you were so proud of it. "I hope so," you replied. "I just... wanted to do something nice for him."

Angel's voice softened. "I know you do. And I think he’ll really appreciate it. But hey, if you’re ever overwhelmed, you know you can always reach out, okay? I’ve got your back."

"Thanks, Angel," you said quietly, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I appreciate it."

you were walking, your thoughts still scattered between the bags, the cake, and tomorrow’s plans, you suddenly felt a jolt—someone bumped into you, knocking into your arms. The bags in your hands swayed dangerously, and for a second, you thought everything was going to fall, the cake included. You gasped, eyes wide as you fumbled, barely managing to catch everything in time.

“Woah, sorry,” a deep voice rumbled from behind you. You froze. That voice. You knew it all too well.

You slowly turned, looking up to find a man standing before you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat in confusion and wariness. V.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, before speaking in that familiar gravelly tone that always sent shivers down your spine, “I’ve seen you before, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

Your mind raced. V? The same V who hated Ronin? The one who had crossed paths with him multiple times, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface, full of unspoken tension? Your instinct told you to be cautious, to step back, but you tried to keep your composure.

“It must be a coincidence,” you muttered quickly, trying to brush past him. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. Ronin’s strange behavior, the looming sense of tension you’d been feeling—it was all enough without running into V at this exact moment.

But V’s next words stopped you in your tracks. “Stop,” he said, his voice low, almost commanding, like Batman on a bad day. There was a certain weight to it, something that made you freeze even though you didn’t want to.

His intense gaze stayed locked on you as he stepped forward, taking some of the bags from your hands. You hesitated, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—it was just… unsettling. The tension between him and Ronin was something you could never ignore. You didn’t want to get caught in the middle of whatever that was.

“You’re carrying a lot,” he said, his tone still dark, but strangely softer now. “Let me help you.”

For a moment, you considered refusing, but there was something about the way he said it, his presence overwhelming in that strange way, that made it difficult to refuse. Reluctantly, you handed over a few more bags. As he adjusted the weight, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried them, his strength almost unnerving. The silence between you both felt thick, oppressive.

You looked away, trying to dismiss the unsettling feeling growing inside you. "Thanks... I guess," you muttered, trying to move on. “I’ve got it from here.”

V didn’t say anything for a moment, but then his eyes flickered toward you, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Something about the way he observed you made your skin crawl a little. It wasn’t malicious, exactly, but it felt like he was studying you—like there was something about you he was trying to figure out.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his voice softening just a little. “You look... a little off. I’ve seen that look before. You don’t have to hide it.”

You blinked, startled. “What look?” You hadn’t realized you’d been so transparent, but there was something about his presence, something in the air, that made you uneasy.

He seemed to smile, though it wasn’t one you could read. “It’s nothing.” He stepped back, giving you space as you adjusted the bags, your heart racing slightly. “But be careful. Not everyone is who they seem to be.” His voice had taken on a warning tone now.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you nodded, unsure of what to say. Was he warning you about Ronin? Was he talking about the things that had been on your mind all day?

“Thanks for helping,” you said, your voice uncertain but polite as you tried to turn away, ready to get back to your task and leave this strange encounter behind you.

V didn’t follow you, but his eyes stayed on you for a beat longer than you’d expected. You walked away quickly, feeling that unsettling gaze on your back, and for a moment, you thought you could still feel it—the weight of someone’s eyes, watching, tracking you.

It was almost as if it reminded you of Ronin, of how he would sometimes seem to observe you while you slept, even though you knew he was just close, close enough to keep you safe in his twisted way.

But you shook that thought away. That was probably just your mind playing tricks on you, wasn’t it? Ronin wouldn’t do anything weird. Right?

You fumbled with the bags, feeling the weight of them pulling on your arms as you approached the house. The familiar sight of Ronin's garage was there, quiet and dim. But as you approached the front door, something caught your attention—there was an unusual silence. The door was locked. You frowned, pulling out your keys, only to realize you had forgotten them inside.

A brief pang of frustration hit, but you dismissed it quickly. No big deal, you could sneak in through the basement. The back door wasn’t locked, after all.

You shuffled toward the side, carefully placing the bags down so they wouldn’t spill open, the cake still nestled in its box, precariously balanced between them. It wasn’t easy carrying all this, but the thought of making Ronin happy, especially with his birthday right around the corner, kept you motivated.

You crouched and entered through the basement door, the cool air immediately wrapping around you like a cloak. It was a little darker down here than you expected, but you didn’t mind; you were used to the shadows. The basement felt like a safe haven to you, hidden from the rest of the world.

But as you moved deeper into the cluttered space, your foot caught on something. Tires. They were placed in a rough pattern, almost like they were meant to trip someone up. Before you could stop yourself, your foot slipped, and you stumbled forward, bags flying out of your grip.

The cake box hit the ground with a dull thud. You gasped, feeling the tears rise at the thought of the cake being ruined, all your hard work for nothing. You quickly knelt, fumbling to check on the condition of the cake. You hadn't realized the position it had fallen into yet, but you couldn't think about that too much. You needed to make sure it was still in one piece.

"Dear Maria!" you muttered under your breath, but before you could stand up, a pair of hands wrapped around your neck from behind, fingers tightening in an almost suffocating grip. Your breath hitched, panic flooding you instantly. You didn’t have to see who it was to know. You’d felt his presence before.

Ronin Beaufort.

“Where the hell were you?” His voice was low, demanding, the usual mix of frustration and something darker. “What were you doing with V?”

You froze, the air squeezing from your lungs. You hadn’t expected him to catch you here, not like this. You felt your heart race, and your thoughts scrambled, trying to find the right words. You hadn’t even known V was following you, or why he was even there. “I—I don’t know,” you stammered, the words tumbling out. “It’s nothing. I didn’t even know it was V until I saw him in person. He just bumped into me. I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

Ronin’s grip tightened for a second, as if to gauge the sincerity of your words. The tension in the air between you both was suffocating, his presence so overpowering it was almost like he could feel every little movement you made.

But then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed you, his fingers loosened, and he pulled away. You gasped for air, blinking rapidly, the relief short-lived as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

Ronin stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes unreadable, before he spoke again. “Sit.” His voice was flat, but the command still rang in your ears. “Sit in the chair.”

You glanced up, your eyes still a little wide from the shock. The chair in the corner was always a spot he used for moments like this, though you didn’t exactly know what to expect. You hesitated for a second, then slowly shuffled toward it, feeling like a puppet on strings, your body moving of its own accord.

You lowered yourself onto the chair, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. The bags were scattered, and the cake—it had fallen. You didn’t dare to look at it fully yet, too scared of what you might find.

Ronin didn’t sit; instead, he remained standing, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes flickered toward the box that had once held the cake. “What the hell is going on with you?” he asked again, his voice softer, but no less piercing. "You’ve been acting weird."

You felt your stomach twist at his question, not sure how to answer. You wanted to explain that it was just a moment of panic, a slip of the mind, but the truth was, the feeling had been building for a while now—this strange tension, this overwhelming sense that you weren’t sure of anything anymore. You didn’t know how to explain that to him, or if he would even understand.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. But deep down, you weren’t sure if you were lying to him or to yourself.

Ronin stood there, arms crossed, his usual detached expression masking whatever turmoil was swirling beneath the surface. The basement was dim, and the faint light from the overhead bulb cast harsh shadows across his features. His posture was slack, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp, always watching, always searching for the tiniest crack to slip his hand into.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of your apology settle in your chest. The tension between you both felt like a thick fog, pressing down on everything you wanted to say, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

"Ronin… I’m sorry for what happened the other day. Brushing you off like that… I know it was wrong. But there was a reason behind everything. It might sound like an excuse, but… will you listen?"

He raised an eyebrow, the typical edge in his voice softening, if only slightly. His usual demeanor was more guarded, but you saw a flicker of curiosity beneath the hardness. Still, his reply came with a bite.

"What is it, darlin’? Better not be some bullshit reason. I won’t forgive you if it’s bullshit."

Your heart pounded. You could almost feel the weight of his eyes, scrutinizing you, as if he could see through every single hesitation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Tomorrow’s your birthday, right?"

His gaze hardened instantly, but the surprise in his eyes was unmistakable. You could feel the weight of his surprise hanging in the air. It was the first time in a while you had seen him at a loss for words, and for a moment, you thought he might break that post-ironic façade of his.

You continued, not letting the sudden shift in his expression distract you. "That’s why I wanted to celebrate. So I’ve been preparing this whole time. I was talking to Angel, looking through shops that could maybe help with the cake… I was debating what would make for a good present. I… I really wanted it to be a surprise."

He was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, as though he was running over your words, trying to understand the meaning behind them. His eyes softened just a fraction, and for a moment, you thought maybe you were getting through to him. But then, his voice cut through the silence—laced with confusion and that familiar edge of sarcasm.

"Then why didn’t you tell me?" His tone held an odd mix of frustration and disbelief, as though the concept of you keeping something from him didn’t quite sit right. "What the hell do you mean 'you wanted to surprise me'? You didn’t think I’d want to know?"

You bit your lip, guilt gnawing at you. "Because I wanted it to be a surprise, so I figured it would be better if you didn’t know," you admitted quietly. "I’m sorry."

He let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. "God," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face with his hand. "So you’re saying because of that, I got the wrong idea and got mad without a reason? Shit… I was completely thrown by Misaki's stupidity." The confession seemed to deflate him a little. His usual bitterness faded as he took a step back, arms uncrossing as if some of the tension in his body was finally being released. You didn’t know what to say at first, but you knew you had to push through it.

"I truly am sorry," you murmured, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Ronin smirked, though it wasn’t one of his usual mocking grins. "By the way, don’t you see? I’m your average pretty anti-Christ devil Family friendly serial killer, you know?" He said it with the same post-ironic tone he always used, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounded, but that was exactly why he said it. For the rise it would get from you. "Did you really think I’d celebrate every single birthday still?" You blinked, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sharpness of his words. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the underlying vulnerability in the way he said it, like he was testing you, poking at the idea to see how you'd react.

"No," you replied softly, your voice just above a whisper. "Even if you are one… even if you are someone else, it’s still your birthday. And I… I think it’s important." You hesitated for a moment, your fingers twitching slightly. "It’s the day you were born into this world, after all. I’m happy to be with you. That’s what matters to me."

His eyes flicked to you, their depth now unreadable. The room was silent for a few moments, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge in the corner. For a split second, you thought maybe he would brush it all off, that usual detachment settling back in.

But then, a small, almost imperceptible shift happened. Ronin’s eyes softened, the sarcastic edge fading. "Don’t go acting all sweet on me, alright?" he muttered, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if it was admiration or something darker, but you saw a trace of something real in his words. His expression didn’t soften entirely, but you could feel the walls he’d put up around himself, crumbling just a little.

Ronin’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. The tension in the air shifted, becoming thick with something unspoken as his eyes drifted down to your hand, where your ring finger had a faint bruise from earlier.

Without saying a word, Ronin reached out, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently held your hand. You blinked in surprise, not expecting him to do anything about the injury, but when he leaned down and pressed a soft, almost hesitant kiss to the spot where you’d hurt yourself, a shiver ran up your spine.

“What…?” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, heart fluttering at his sudden gentleness.

He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he gently licked the spot where the wound had been, as if trying to soothe it, his eyes never leaving yours. The act was unexpected, but his usual edge of sarcasm was replaced by something almost tender.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Put a small bandage on it. You don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "It’s a small wound," you said, trying to downplay it, but his gaze hardened slightly as he pulled back.

“Shut up,” Ronin snapped, though his words were softer than usual. There was no malice in them, just a kind of raw affection that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. He then let out a small sigh, his lips curving into a smile that was rare but real. “You’re lucky I’m even treating you like this, darling.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his gruffness, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Okay…” you replied innocently, your voice almost teasing despite the situation.

Just as you were about to say something else, a loud alarm suddenly blared from your phone. The sound sliced through the moment, making you jump in surprise. You glanced at the screen, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the notification.

Midnight Bell. It’s his birthday.

You froze for a moment, eyes wide in realization. Your breath caught in your throat, and a burst of excitement rushed through you. It was finally his birthday. The moment you had been preparing for had arrived.

Ronin, for once, didn’t seem irritated by the sound. Instead, his eyes darkened slightly, as if he had been expecting this moment too. “Well, well,” he said, his voice low, a dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “It’s about time, huh?”

"Ah… the midnight bell…" you muttered, your hands trembling slightly as you glanced at the time.

Ronin's voice was a drawl, almost bored as he stared at you, but you could hear the subtle amusement beneath it. “...The date changed.”

You laughed nervously, fumbling for words. “It’s your birthday! Congratulations, Ronin!"

"Yeah..." he replied, voice quiet, almost indifferent, but you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips. The sort of smile that made your heart skip a beat, despite yourself.

Your thoughts quickly turned to the cake. Present? You thought. Oh no... I forgot the cake... The panic surged within you as you realized what you’d done. “Aahーー!!”

Ronin’s eyebrows raised slightly at your sudden outburst. " What’s your problem!? Suddenly shouting like that..."

You tried to steady your breath. "The cake... I forgot I dropped it..."

Ronin's gaze shifted to the side where the box lay carelessly on the counter. "Cake? ... could it be that box laying over there...?"

You winced. "Y-Yeah... When I tried to come sneakily but you.. I accidentally..."

"God..." he muttered, shaking his head but not with anger, more like exasperation. It was almost endearing in a twisted way.

You lowered your head, feeling embarrassed. "S-Sorry!!"

Ronin gave you a look that could’ve been a warning, but then his lips curled into a smirk. "Pfft! You're making a funny face. ...There we go."

He effortlessly walked over to the box, picking it up with a casual motion. You couldn’t help but watch him. The cake had obviously been ruined by the fall—cream spilling out from the sides, a far cry from the masterpiece you’d envisioned—but Ronin seemed unfazed.

He tilted the box toward his face, his gaze flicking between you and the cake. The squirt of cream against his finger was almost… intimate. He tasted it with a smirk, licking the finger clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Well... it’s a little ruined, but it’s not bad, you know?" Ronin said, his voice dark and laced with amusement.

You stood there, unsure how to respond, staring at the disaster of a cake. "I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to..."

He leaned in, his expression sharpening into something more dangerous, more teasing. "Tch. Don’t apologize so much. It’s not the end of the world, darling. But now..."

The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional chuckle that escaped Ronin’s lips as he leaned back against the headboard. The cake—though squashed and imperfect—lay between you both, a symbol of the night’s chaotic charm. You’d tried to make everything perfect, but it seemed you were always a step behind with Ronin, always stumbling, always flustered.

It was his birthday now, and you still couldn’t shake off the worry that you hadn’t quite done enough.

You sat across from him, hands shaking slightly as you tried to prepare the cake. "Ah... Well, here it is," you said, the corners of your mouth curling up nervously as you presented the nearly ruined cake. "I—I’m sorry it’s not perfect..."

Ronin, with that same signature smirk of his, peered at the cake before his eyes flicked to you. "Tch, you’re making that face again. No need to apologize." He let out a chuckle, leaning over and inspecting the cake as if it were something strange he’d never encountered before. "It’s fine. I’m gonna eat this one."

You blinked, taken aback. "You will?"

"Why not? It’s your hard work, right?" Ronin teased, then grabbed the box from the table. "Let’s see what you made for me."

You tried to suppress your smile as he leaned back on the bed, unceremoniously digging into the cake, licking the spilled cream from his fingers with a casualness that both startled and excited you.

"See? Not so bad after all," he muttered, flicking his eyes toward you. His eyes softened a bit—just a bit. "Don’t sweat it."

You nodded, relieved, though there was still a sense of nervousness running through your veins. "Actually... I have a present for you, too," you murmured, feeling the rush of embarrassment flush your face. You hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable tonight, but Ronin had a way of making everything feel... amplified.

"A present?" Ronin arched a brow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I’m listening."

You took a deep breath before reaching over and pulling out a small, carefully wrapped box. The ruby earrings inside glimmered softly under the dim light. "I... I noticed you always wear one in your right ear, so I thought this color would suit you."

Ronin’s gaze flicked over the gift, his expression unreadable at first. Then, with a brief chuckle, he responded, "Fitting for me... Hah. This gemstone’s bright red, just like your blood, after all."

You paused, stunned for a second. "W-What?"

He waved it off, his smirk never fading. "Kidding. It’s fine. The color... it’s fitting."

The words hit harder than you expected. "It’s passion," you added softly, your fingers brushing against the delicate box. "And pure love... something like that."

Ronin’s eyes softened, just a fraction, as he looked down at the earrings. "Passion, huh... Pure love..." He chuckled lightly, the sound soft but carrying that familiar edge. "Thanks."

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest as the conversation shifted.

"Let’s just eat the cake already," Ronin muttered, clearly not in the mood for any more speeches. "I’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but tonight’s special."

You smiled as you picked up a fork, cutting a piece of the cake. "Alright, alright, let me just get you a piece."

As you handed him the piece of cake, Ronin leaned back and gave you an almost bored look, his eyes half-lidded. "Hmph. No offense, but eating it like this would be boring."

Your brow furrowed, confused for a second. "What do you mean?"

"Feed me," Ronin said, his voice almost mocking, though there was an unmistakable demand to it.

You blinked, your stomach flipping. "Eh!? No way!"

"Why not?" he said with a raised eyebrow, not even bothering to look at you directly. "You’ve been going on about listening to me, right? Well, now it’s time to put that into action. Don’t make me repeat myself."

You felt heat flood your cheeks, but before you could protest further, Ronin was already leaning forward, cutting a fresh piece of the cake for you.

"Here," he said, holding the cake up to your lips. "Open up."

You blinked, feeling your heart race as you stared at the piece of cake hovering just in front of your mouth. It was absurdly intimate, and yet, in some twisted way, it felt... natural. You could already feel the edge of Ronin's gaze on you, and there was no escaping that look.

You sighed, giving in. "Fine," you murmured, opening your mouth just enough for him to feed you.

As you took the bite, your heart pounded even faster. Ronin’s eyes never left you, his smirk returning in full force as you chewed the cake slowly.

"Good, huh?" he teased, his voice low and almost dangerous.

You nodded quickly, trying to suppress the nerves threatening to spill over. "Y-Yeah. It’s good."

Ronin watched you for a moment, amused by your flustered state. "Now it’s your turn," he said, his eyes glinting. "Feed me."

Your eyes widened. "No way! That’s—"

"Do it," he growled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. "You said you’d listen, didn’t you?"

The command in his voice was unshakable, and despite your reluctance, you found yourself leaning forward, holding the cake between your fingers and lifting it to his lips.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, your face flushed with heat. "Ahn."

Ronin’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in, accepting the cake, his gaze sharp and possessive as he chewed slowly, savoring the moment. "There we go," he murmured. "Now we’re even."

You swallowed, trying to control your racing heart. It wasn’t the cake or even the birthday celebration anymore—it was something else entirely.

Ronin leaned back on the bed, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand after finishing the last bite of the cake. A grin stretched across his face, almost too smug. "Heh. Is that all?" he teased, the tone in his voice making it clear he was enjoying every second of your flustered state.

You, however, had a different idea. Your smile widened with something darker, more playful. "Not quite," you said, standing up and brushing crumbs off your lap as you moved toward the door. "You see, I may have something else for you... something more... interesting."

Ronin’s eyebrows arched, clearly intrigued, though he didn’t rise from the bed just yet. "More?" he asked with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

You only gave him a sly grin before disappearing out the door, reappearing moments later with bags—bags upon bags, the weight of them evident as you dragged them behind you.

Ronin’s expression shifted. "What the hell is all this?" His voice held a note of both amusement and disbelief as you began pulling the bags one by one into the room. "You’ve got more of this stuff hidden in your basement?"

You nodded, smiling sweetly as you placed the first bag next to him. "Oh, there’s a lot more downstairs," you said casually. "I figured you’d like them."

Ronin’s eyes widened, his interest piqued. "A whole damn basement full of... what, presents?"

You shrugged, not bothering to give away all your secrets. "You can say that. I figured I should really get something special for you. You know, for all the things you’ve done."

Ronin just stared at you as you unloaded the contents of the first bag, his gaze narrowing as he saw the items in front of him. First, there was a beanie—black, perfectly styled, just like the one he always wore. He couldn’t help but smirk, though there was a slight confusion in his eyes.

"Nice," he muttered, running his fingers through it. "But, uh, I’m starting to wonder... how many damn bags do you have?"

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you continued pulling out more bags, each one filled with more extravagant, bizarre items: dark, emo clothes, studded jackets, chains, ripped jeans, and layers upon layers of black fabric that screamed both punk and chaos. Ronin looked at them, then back at you, eyes flicking with disbelief. "What... is all this?"

"And..." you said with a dramatic pause, pulling out something else, "your crowbar." You placed it next to him with a flourish, like it was the final piece of a grand display. "A new crowbar separately for your work, the one you’d want."

Ronin blinked, his gaze switching from the crowbar back to you. He was visibly taken aback, mouth slightly agape. "How the hell did you get all of this stuff, Y/N?"

You sat down beside him on the bed, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you gave him a sly, confident look. "Well... let’s just say I saved up all the tips you gave me."

His eyes widened further. "You—what? How long has this been going on?" He let out a low whistle, his disbelief turning into a mix of admiration and something close to shock. "I didn’t realize I was such a great tipper."

You shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Hey, it’s fine. ." You leaned forward, your voice lowering as you added, "It’s just... the least I could do."

Ronin’s expression softened, though there was a tinge of something else in his eyes—something like warmth mixed with the confusion of being overwhelmed by your unexpected generosity.

He looked down at the piles of presents in front of him, the crowbar, the clothes, the beanie, everything carefully picked out and perfectly fitting for his twisted sense of style. After a long pause, his voice finally came, gruff but sincere. "Thank you," he muttered, meeting your eyes. "This... this is a lot. I didn’t expect... all this."

You smiled, your hand resting gently in his as you gave a soft squeeze. "It’s nothing, really. You’ve given me so much... I just wanted to give back." Your voice softened as you added, "I’ll always find a way, even if it means saving every penny for months."

Ronin took a deep breath, trying to suppress the emotions welling up in him. He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual smug facade. "You’re insane,"

Ronin smirked, leaning back against the counter as you nervously brought the slice of cake closer. His plum-colored hair framed his face, and those sharp eyes of his glinted mischievously as he leaned in.

Now, He wants to shut up!

"Good, just like that, transfer it to my mouth…" he murmured, voice dripping with playful mockery.

Your cheeks flamed as you complied, but before you could even think of pulling back, Ronin’s lips grazed the fork—and your fingers, on purpose, of course.

"Mmm… Nn…" he mused exaggeratedly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as you fidgeted.

"Ronin! Seriously—!" you protested, pulling your hand back.

He leaned in closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What? You’re blushing like crazy, darling. Was it that good?" He chuckled darkly. "Gotta say though… it was delicious."

You turned your head, already flustered, but his gaze pinned you in place.

"Wait, darling," he said casually, his voice dropping. "You’ve got some cream stuck on your mouth. Sit still. I’ll get it for you."

Before you could react, his thumb brushed over your lips, but instead of wiping it away, Ronin leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness from your skin.

"Nn… Sweet," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Ronin! " you gasped, trying to squirm away, only for him to suddenly push you back against the counter.

"Ah—!"

"Damn…" he muttered, pinning you beneath him, his breath hot against your ear. "It’s your fault for moving, darling. You know better than to disobey me."

"Let me up—!" you stammered, your heartbeat thundering as he hovered over you.

"Not a chance." His voice was low and teasing, laced with a hint of danger. His eyes burned into yours, and his smirk widened. "Now that you’ve got me all riled up… how about I skip the cake and gobble you up instead, hmm?"

Before you could even muster a reply, he leaned in, sinking his teeth gently into the crook of your neck.

"Ah—!"

Ronin groaned softly against your skin, savoring every moment. "Damn, darling… The cake was good, but this…" He licked his lips as he pulled back slightly, his breath hitching. "Your sweetness puts that lovely apple crumble to shame."

You tried to catch your breath, your fingers gripping his arms weakly. "R-Ronin… the cake… your presents—"

He silenced you with a low chuckle, his face impossibly close. "I don’t care about the cake. And the gifts? Yeah, those are nice too, but they don’t compare to you, darling. You’re the best damn thing anyone could’ve given me."

"R-Ronin…"

He pressed another kiss to your neck, humming softly. "Never thought I’d give a damn about my birthday, but if this is what it’s like… I could get used to it."

You felt your resolve wavering, his words melting into you like honey. "T-Thank you for being born, Ronin…" you whispered. "I love you."

His movements stilled for a moment, his gaze locking with yours. "Say that again, I love you too." he demanded softly.

"I love you," you repeated, your voice trembling.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "Good." He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. "Now, darling…" His tone dropped dangerously. "Don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you leave my side. You’re mine. Forever. Got it?"

His hand clasped yours tightly as he murmured against your lips, "I’ll treasure you, darling—always."

Forever, indeed.

A dream, A shame, the last thing you remember is being.....hit by the same man, you found peace out.

Hey why..?

Was I that painful to you? Did I become boring to you?

Or Did you give me the peace I wanted..?

#ronin beaufort #ronin killer chat #ronin x reader #killer chat ronin #killer chat #killer chat x reader #killer chat ronin x reader #killer chat ronin x you #ronin beaufort x reader #kc ronin #visual novel #fanfic #killer chat angel #killer chat V #Misaki #Killer chat Misaki

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riverintheunderworld · 1 month ago

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🌻💫 intro post 💫🌻

hi! im river (he/she), a fan of several visual novels. some of which, i'm looking to write for!

currently, my requests are: open

look for the rules here!

i write fics under #river's writing for any characters from these fandoms:

a date with death

error143

killer chat

mushroom oasis

so, don't be shy! send a request, if that's something that appeals to you.

if you want me to get into a certain VN, I'll likely check it out if you suggest it to me! the only thing I require is that the game does not have a fem!MC by default!

anyways, happy scrolling <3

#intro post #a date with death #adwd #casper adwd #casper x reader #error143 #micah yujin #micah yujin x reader #killer chat #killer chat v #killer chat angel #killer chat misaki #killer chat ronin #killer chat x reader #mushroom oasis #mushroom oasis vn #mychael x reader

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elysiaheaven2 · 1 day ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ /) /) (｡•ㅅ•｡)〝₎₎ . .╭∪─∪────────── ✦ ⁺. . .┊ ◟﹫ Name: Ellie . .┊﹒𐐪 Age: Timeless . .┊ꜝꜝ﹒Pronouns: she/her . .┊ ⨳゛Sexuality: Demisexual . .┊ ◟ヾ I once soared as @elysiaheaven for killer chat: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/elysiaheaven . .┊﹒𐐪 Now, I write on https://www.tumblr.com/elysiaheaven2 ╰───────────── ✦ ⁺. ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚ 𓂃★ ⸝⸝ ⧣₊˚﹒✦₊ ⧣₊˚

Both! Old acc fics and new!!

My old fics are cringe, I didn't have a good understanding of Ronin- That time.

⟡ masterlist for

killer chat

Ronin - The Devil's Butcher fics! old accounts!

1. Pure Insatiability (Discontinued)

Ronin x Yan! Reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

2. Devotion-Ronin x G.N reader

Ronin x jirai kei/landmine reader

3. Ronin & Far beyond help user - (Angst)

Obsessed reader

4. Dear Darling

Ronin x Trans!fem

5. "Bon Appétit"

Ronin x Cannibal Reader

6. Bone Lily

Ronin x Yan! Reader

7. Song for him

Ronin x Yoisaki Kanade reader!

8. Simping

Ronin x Trans! Male Reader

9. Safety first

Ronin x g.n reader

10. Even the devils are tired of you! Part 1, Future!

Ronin x Devil Reader

Future us! (Same reader!)

11. Before the Midnight bell (part1)- Ronin x G.N Reader (Birthday special) (Fallen angel reader)

Ronin x Fallen Angel Reader (Future)

12. Eclipse of Wings

Ronin x Fallen Angel G.N Reader

13. 𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘

𝗥𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻 𝘅 Red room 𝗚.𝗡 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 part 1

Part 2

14.A poem to my childhood fort

part 1

Angel- The Heartsick Angel

1.BLESS

Angel x KANGEL/AME READER

𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧!

𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 PART 1

part 2

ALL THE KILLER CHAT AS LOVE INTERESTS/HEADCANONS!!

KC cast with a streamer reader!- who's a serial killer like them!

2. KC BAND AU

3. KC head canons, When they break up

4. KC Cast in bedroom

5. Ronin with a person who has little care for their safety?

EXTRA!- KC SHIPS! (NEW YEAR SPECIAL)

To the new year with each other

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #ronin beaufort #ronin killer chat #killer chat ronin x reader #killer chat vn #killer chat x reader #ronin beaufort x reader #ronin x reader #kc angel #kc misaki #kc V #kc ronin

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dumjokes · 1 month ago

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SEND ME FIC PROMPTS AND THE CHARACTER YOU WANT (out of the 4 love interests) PLEASEEE IM BEGGING!! SEND THE REQUESTS!!!

Forgot to add what I refuse to write!

°smut just smut won't do it

Another thing I wouldn't do is mental disorders I don't know much about for obvious reasons! Sorry!

#ronin beaufort x reader #ronin x reader #killer chat x reader #killer chat #v killer chat #angel killer chat #misaki killer chat #ronin killer chat #Valentin Viljoen x reader #misaki x reader #angel x reader

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gmr-gigi · 5 months ago

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Hi Hi! Im taking writing requests for the following fandoms just put your request in my asks!

If you have any questions

Fandoms:

~ Killer Chat!

~ A Date with Death

If there's other fandoms you want me to write for put it in my asks and ill see if i can do it

Things i wont write:

~ Smut (Not comfortable)

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npookie0 · 2 months ago

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can you do kc x a silly reader?? like one that is overall very unhinged and out of pocket and filled to the brim with the silly :3

Sure :3

Silly reader x KC

Tw. Very silly and goofy reader ><

Ever since you joined the server, you proved yourself to be quite the silly goof. In voice calls you would drop some unhinged lines or ideas.

"What if someone were to mix glitter in spilled blood? Like imagine a massacred head and glitter spilling from it with blood and brain." You said suddenly after Ronin dropped his usual cocky remark towards Angel.

At first there was silence, something you experienced many times, the killers have to register your words before they can answer.

Next thing you know, Misaki is bursting out, laughing and trying to catch their breath. "Oh fuck, you're so stupid MC." They almost choked while they were laughing.

"Your ideas are certainly... Something ." V said and sighed. "Hitmeup please drink some water." He said to Misaki who was still coughing.

"Woah darlin', the more things you say the more interesting your ideas become. Maybe I should test it out for you?" Ronin chuckled darkly. "Or maybe you could do that Angel? Glitter is your thing after all."

"Oh, fuck off Ronin." Angel sighed and you could swear that she rolled her eyes even if you didn't see her. "That's a very creative idea MC, can't wait to hear more." She chuckled warmly, her voice as sweet as ever.

Sometimes the server members just wake up to a spam of memes in the media channel from you just because you felt like it.

One time you even sent a stick man drawing of Ronin as JD from Heathers the Musical. Everyone, excluding Ronin, was cracking up at the drawing.

<@Angelic>: OMG I love you @MC please this is perfect

<@goreboy>: do you Want Me to use my Crowbar on Ya @MC? you too Angel.

<@MC>: Ronin, accept it. You're him and he's you.

Another time you decided to start the "hear me out cake" with the killers... Your answers were something.

"What do you mean by 'the letter A' dude?!" Luca asked after you sent a picture of said letter under the picture of a random cake.

"What do you mean? It gives off hot vibes, like a hot popular girl, tell me you get it Misaki." You replied and moved the question to Misaki.

"I have zero fucking idea, but hey it's still better than what you sent in the previous round."

"What do you mean? The lizard guy from Star Butterfly was HOT!" You exclaimed. "You bunch have no taste."

The killers couldn't say that their time with you wasn't interesting. You were unhinged and blunt. You never thought about your words, you just said whatever you wanted even in the most inappropriate moments.

<@MC>: Guys I think that kids should be locked up like animals in zoo and experienced on, if they want to act like wild beasts.

<@_LUCA_IS_COOL_>: What the hell dude? We were talking about our plans for the holidays.

<@h1tneuppp>: Shhh, this is about to get interesting.

Ronin:

Your silly nature was interesting for him. You sometimes dropped random traumatic experiences from your life, or just said something very unhinged.

Ronin can't complain about being bored with you around. If he's not persuading you into killing, you will drag him around the town or take him for random expeditions because you can't sit in one place for longer than five seconds.

Sometimes Ronin will just stand next to you in silence while you're doing something crazy, examples:

"MC, darlin', what the fuck are you doing?" Ronin asked, his eyes showed just how confused he was. Well, who wouldn't be confused if they saw their partner chasing after leafs in a park.

"I'm trying to catch the prettiest one." You replied like it was the most normal and obvious answer. Ronin just nodded. He was in awe about how little care you showed whenever someone gave you the side eye.

Ronin left you alone in his house for twenty minutes, apparently there was a very special asshole going around town and Ronin just had to deal with him. When he returned home he knew that you would do something crazy (at least in your way), but he would never imagine walking in on you while you were trying to dress up his rat BlackJack in a mini version of his clothes.

"Baby, would you mind telling me, why the hell is my rat dressed like me?" Ronin leaned on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Huh?" You turned around to look at him, the rat curled up in your hands. "Well, you're like a rat, and BlackJack is a smol version of Ronin." You giggled with a sinister glimmer in your eyes. Ronin shook his head and approached you, he placed a kiss to your forehead and took the animal from your hands. "You're so fuckin' adorable sometimes."

Whenever you actually killed someone, you sent a picture to the #killer_shit channel, your murders were especially peculiar. The bodies were mostly untouched, expect the corpse having either an extremely bloody wound so you could draw a hello kitty head around the body or some silly doodles curved into them.

<@goreboy>: Woah baby, your art skills are getting better.

You smiled at Ronin's response and then scoffed when he sent a picture of his new kill with a satanic symbol curved into it.

<@goreboy>: Not as good as mine tho.

Headcanons >w<

- Ronin loves listening to your ramblings, even if you're talking about the most stupid stuff ever. He usually plays with your hair and looking through his phone while you just yap his ear off.

- Sometimes when you two decide to do some romantic homicide, you're the most silly killer Ronin has ever seen, you're literally gluing sequins around the curvings that Ronin leaves on the body, once you ever did a whole glamour make up look on a guy who according to Ronin abused his trans daughter.

- You doodle Ronin as JD and yourself as Veronica Sawyer, you even told him that you two will cosplay them for the next Halloween and if he dares to disagree, he will wake up with a sea of glitter in his bed.

- "You're like a more hygienic raccoon babe." Ronin said after he caught you looking for a late night snack around his kitchen in the clothes you stole from him.

- "Ronin, let's kidnap a snake from the zoo." You said, it was the middle of the night, you and Ronin were relaxing after some intimate time. Ronin looked at you and laughed. "Wow babe, you really pick the best times for these things." His laugh deep and long, arm over his face as he brushed his hair back. "I fuckin' love it about you."

V was dumbfounded by every single unhinged idea you shared with him. He didn't know if having any expectations had a point anymore. Whenever he thought that your ideas couldn't get even more unique, you came up with an even more creative ideas.

"V." You called as you ran towards him and ran in circles around him. You almost tripped, but V managed to catch you. He sighed and helped you stand.

"My love, please be more careful. He pinched his nose bridge for which you only giggled.

"Aw, it's fine V! You'll always catch me. Anyway-" And for the next ten minutes you were rambling about a new idea, V couldn't even follow your voice. He was just too amazed by how many things your mind could think of at once.

Even if he couldn't wrap his mind around your way of thinking, V was happy knowing that your soul was pure, you wouldn't kill people ruthlessly, you didn't even think about that. But sometimes he tends to question your innocence, whenever he tells you about a new bastard he has to eliminate, you turn around with a wide smile and in the sweetest voice known to man you were giving him an idea of how he should get rid of that pest.

"My love, your ideas are positively terrifying. Maybe i should try it out for you on that rotten beast." He placed a kiss to your knuckles with a proud smile and a warm look in his eyes.

Headcanons X3

- V enjoys it when you're playing with his hair, putting it up or just twisting it around your fingers, while you're just talking about the silly ideas.

- "V, let's go and buy some cute outfits for your animals." You said while you were watching the bird V named after you. "Love, I want to remind you that most of my animals are dangerous and feed on humans." He replied with a slight hint of a smile. "But they also deserve something cute to wear." You exclaimed, it earned you a chuckle from him and a kiss on the lips. "Fine, fine. We can try finding something cute for them."

- V has to carry the first aid kit with himself whenever the two of you are outside. You have a tendency to run around carelessly, climb treat when you see something stuck on one. Most of these adventures end up with a scraped knee or a small injury that V has to clean up. "Please, be more careful." He says, knowing that you will do the same thing again.

- Sometimes when V wakes up and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day, he sees how his hair magically happened to have a lot of colorful and cute hair-clips in them. And you just so happen to be right next to the bathroom door and trying your hardest to hold back the giggle. For V that start of a day is just perfect, with his partner in a good mood and right next to him.

Misaki:

Misaki fucks with your silly and unhinged nature. They adore it, and the way your eyes light up when you see jut how invested she is.

You take their hand and drag them around Tokio, you're totally lost and she just chooses to let you try and find your way. When you give up with a big sad pout on your face, they kiss you and take you for a piggyback.

"Don't worry pookie bear, I know my way around town." They say with a confident smirk and you just chuckle.

"Wow, you're my hero Misaki."

When Misaki spams your DMs with how panicked they are about the next assassination, you will send your selfie with you pointing on your lips.

<@MC>: Is this motivating enough?

<@h1tmeupp>: Babe omw to be done with this shit and kiss that stupidly sweet lips of yours.

<@MC>: Waiting ;p

Misaki loves it when you're stealing their clothes and return them with a small new added mark - a painted flower here, a sewed in patch of an anime character that you like there. They will wear that piece of clothing like it's something given by gods and will make sure to brag about you to the server and their parents.

Headcanons >:D

- You will call Misaki in the middle of the night because you just came up with a new theory about your favourite media and she just ha to listen to your yap session.

- Your nicknames for Misaki are just chef's kiss, some of their favourites: Cutie patootie, lil sniper mask, alpha sigma, babyperson.

- When Misaki doesn't reply because they're asleep or buy you will flood their dms with memes or sad cat pictures,

- You will join in on Misaki's weak tries to rizz up V, you know that it's a joke and you find it extremely funny.

- When you're about to return to your country from visiting Misaki, you will steal their clothes and find a perfume matching their scent, and she will take your clothes and your perfume.

Angel:

Angel is fascinated by you, and your ways of making fun of Ronin but still not sounding like a total asshole. You will always make sure to keep your remarks lighthearted and keep the relationship between you and Angel's ex boyfriend and currently closest friend chill.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Angel asks, you were standing in front of her and applying some make up on her.

"Nooo, I'm not done yet." You reply and move the lipstick on her lips. "Ta! Dah!" You said and held the mirror in front of her face. Angel opened her eyes and gasped, then she laughed and looked at you with a loving warmth in her gaze.

"You wanted to make me look like Jennifer?" She asked.

"Yeah! You called her hot, and I wanted to check if my skills are as good as think they are." You say with a proud smirk. Angel stands up and kissed you.

"I love it, but we do need to work on your skills cariño."

When Angel found a new manager, you and Ronin were ready to throw hands. Well you took action in your own hands and left them a small note in their bag "Hurt Maria and I will break your spine." It would be very threatening. if you didn't use a colorful pencil with glitter in it.

Headcanons <3

- Angel enjoys laying in bed with you, snuggled up to you as you discuss her new video or some of your interests. She feels so close to you, these moments are perfect.

- Whenever Angel has a taught day at work you will go and basically kidnap her, you carry her bridal style to the nearest cafe and keep her away from watching her phone. Sometimes she may seem irritated with it, but you will kiss her or hold her close and this irritation disappears.

- One day Angel found her pink gun in the living room with some doodles and sweet messages all over it. You came into the room and snatched the gun from her.

"I'm not done yet." You exclaimed and hid the gun behind your back.

"Awh, but I want to see it." She gave you a pout and you just gave in.

- For Halloween you dressed up as Ronin and gave Angel a full of one-person-show imitation of him. Angel can't hold back her laughter and holds her aching stomach.

"Oh, I love you." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "You're so amazing love."

#v killer chat #killer chat ronin #killer chat #fluff #gender neutral reader #misaki killer chat #ronin beaufort #ronin killer chat #killer chat angel #fanfic

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l0verclown · 2 months ago

Text

From pressured to driven Part 1

What happens when you feel pressured to do something you never thought you'd do?

Especially if 4 serial killers are the ones pressuring you.

Slight Ronin x Reader

| spoilers for Killer chat!!! not proofread, probably OoC and this idea randomly came up in my mind at night so you'll probably find mistakes

Part 2:

Never thought you'd be hanging out with serial killers- heck, even date one.

Well here you are, in a difficult situation that might make you regret that you even agreed on staying in that server. But lets rewind a bit, shall we?

After Misaki's successful assassination, she figured she'd stay a bit longer in the country before heading home. Which also led her to the great idea of hanging out with the whole group! (Which only You, Ronin, Angel and V could attend)

Ofcourse, Ronin couldn't miss out, no? After all, being the person who brought the group together, can't be excluded. And, it gives him another reason to go outside aside from work and going on a killing spree.

At first, Angel was a bit skeptical, after all she is the Maria-de-la-Rosa, so hanging out, especially in public, would be a little bit tricky. But after a whole lot of convincing and begging, it worked out and she managed to come.

V was confused on why Misaki wanted to hang out, likewise because 1. He wasn't intrigued on the idea of hanging out, 2. He's not online very often, so he doesn't know the group that good as everyone else. But in the end he figured that it that it could benefit him eventually.

@Angelic: Wait Misaki

where are we meeting up again

@Hitmeuppp: Uhh

what was it called again..

Hage centre???

@K9: Hague Centre.

@Hitmeuppp: YES

THANK YOU

@Goreboy: be there around 2

before i drag you there myself

@Hitmeuppp: Edgy much

@SerialMC: I'll be leaving now

See y'all then!

Just when you typed the last message, you sighed and closed your device.

You wanted to come, they're your friends after all. But they're also serial killers.

Serial killers.

Fuck.

You were so up in the act, that you forgot that you weren't actually a serial killer.

You're a reporter and writer, and the only one who knows is the devils reincarnate himself.

What if they ask you how your recent murder went? Or what if they want you to do something you have no experience in?

There's one way to find out, and that is to go to that hangout.

"Yooo Reader is that you..!?" Misaki screamed from the distance, waving at you with excitement while you walked up to her.

"Wow- You're like 10x cooler than online! And- And-"

Misaki exclaimed with excitement, before V interupted them.

"Misaki, calm down before you scare them away"

"Whaaaat, can't i be happy for seeing my friends before i head home? Are you the funpolice now?"

"Not the fun one"

"Are you allergic to fun or something wtf"

After a few minutes of Misaki just complaining about V, Ronin and Angel eventually showed up.

"Met Angel on the way to here. Figured on walking here together"

"Yeah me and ro-"

"YOU'RE THE MARIA-DE-LA-ROSA!?"

"Wait Sshh!-"

"Yep, The Maria-de-la-Rosa life in the flesh. Or would ya like her to eat your flesh?"

"What is up with you associating me with Cannibalism, Ronin!?"

After A small fight between the two, you guys decided to walk around, grab some food and hang around, talking about just the casual, work, Hobby's and murder. Well only when there were no people around, obviously.

How long has it been? 4 hours? Ignoring the fact that time exists, you spent way longer than you expected to be outside. Didn't expect serial killers to be that fun.

"Guys, i have this good fucking idea" Ronin said before stopping, having a mischievous look om his face and crossing his arms. "Every Idea that you have is a bad idea ronin." Angel sighed out before shaking her head, knowing he had a bad idea. "Ooh Ooh, let me guess- Murder spree? Let the city know our names before i leave?" Misaki said before Ronin pulled out a crowbar from his bag. "Exactly fucking that."

You're fucked.

A murder spree? When you thought you couldn't get any unluckier, this happens. I mean- you could pretend to kill anyone, but that wouldn't work. Not when you're with four other people.

"So, What ya think about it Darlin'? Cruel, fun and informative. Show us some of those killer moves of yours"

"Yeah, You actually never told us about it. I would like to see a reader killing in live 3D!"

"Uh- As much as i wanna see them do it, we shouldn't pressure them."

"Lets hope for you this one does not show up on the news."

"I would love to guys, but i don't have my weapons on me right now. No weapons, no murder"

"C'monnnn Darlin', Such a killjoy are ya? Scared to dig out some guts with ya bare hands? Or do you really want a weapon?"

"Cause if you do, We just gotta head on to the purgatory, There's a fuck ton of guns and knifes there to even satisfy your wildest fantasies"

You were too scared to chicken out, so you just hoped that there was a dead body nearby so you could've pretended you killed it. Hopefully.

"What's the matter? Too fuckin' scared? This isn't your first time killing, no?"

"Yeah, C'monn, i wanna see you in action!"

"Let's not rush them, or we might drive them that crazy that they hunt us"

Misaki picked up a random gun, carefully checking if it is loaded or not. She inspected it, and when she found out it was loaded, she sparked with joy and aimed it to a random alleyway. And Boom- she shot someone. Maybe it was because she is a literal assassin, or maybe she was really lucky.

"Damn, Headshot."

"I can tell that that person has no respect to the fauna of this land."

"First, what does fauna mean, second, you're probably right."

"Fauna means the animal respective to the area"

"The only ones that dare come here are assholes, weirdo's or people that were dared here."

"Wow a free tour by ronin? Count me in"

"Wow that's uh.. Impressive"

You wandered around for a bit before you picked up a random knife, all bloodied and dull, and stopped looking around. No people in sight, so no murders.. For now. You decide to walk into an alley, you said you were going to look for victims, but in reality, you were trying to find an escape.

But there were a few complications-

They would eventually find out that you were trying to leave, and then you'd have four actual serial killers after you.

You could pretend you killed someone, splash some blood on your clothes, grab some random corpse that was already there, and show them. But do you have the guts to do that?

And lastly, even if you did escape, the server would know, Ronin might expose you and then you could say goodbye to your little book.

What are you going to do?

#ronin killer chat #killer chat #angel #angel killer chat #misaki killer chat #v killer chat #my fic #night #tired #this is so bad

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6feathered6siren6 · 19 days ago

Note

ok but like hear me out any of the KC LIs x Doctor reader (idk why this came into my head at like 3 am)

Doctor, Doctor

Notes: I didn't know which one to choose, and couldn't make a full on story(Working on time loop reader rn, about half way done for the next update), so I wrote some hcs and a small snip bits of each one. But I hope it's enjoyable!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Trigger warning

Death/killing

Slight gore?

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ

Misaki

Your number 1 clutz, she works often to pay bills, so you always can expect her to get injured somehow. You always make sure they have a first aid kit in her house.

You always have cartoon band aids for her, you always see her with a smile seeing them on her. When she scraped her hand from jumping off a height, you were there with the most stupid cartoon band aid you guys were laughing at.

Misaki, at first, tried to hide injuries and scrapes after learning you were a doctor. They didn’t want to worry you or bother you. Especially, when you are dealing with other patients who need you more. Well, until you sat them down and had a very important conversation

Misaki supports your job, but on days where you lose a patient, the dark days, they pull you onto the couch and watch shows or movies until you feel better.

▄︻デ══━一

You were on vacation visiting your partner, you stayed at her place while she was at their job. You picked up some fast food for dinner tonight, an easy night for the both of you. To cuddle up on their bed and eat it while being together. You were at her table, just playing on your phone, when she came home. She was scraped up.

“Misaki? What happened?” Immediately rushing to her side. Nothing but scraps and bruises. Scratching the back of her head with a goofy smile, you know she was fine, just slightly injured.

You sighed as you shoved them onto a chair, pulling your first aid from your bag. “So… I kinda jumped from a height that I knew I wasn’t gonna die from but… still scraped myself… So I'm good, still?”

You laughed softly as they rambled, you were making sure she was bandaged correctly and that they wouldn’t scar. After you kissed her forehead. “Please be careful, I don’t want you as a full patient, then I wouldn’t be able to slip kisses on you.”

She gasped, “Then, I’ll make sure! I need those kiss taxes for each bandaid.”

❤︎

He thinks you're honorable for being able to help others, even ones who do not need it. You work long and hard for your job for the people who need to be fed to his animals.

When he does get injured, he either does it himself, at least not to worry you, or get you. You do talk as you patch him for simple injuries. He learns a lot about the health care you do. And he is very appreciative about this.

Sure, you are a doctor for only humans, but you do patch up the animals(At least, the ones who are calm around you). And if you don’t know something and he does, he will teach you. Afterall, you do like helping people.

After losing a patient or an animal from V’s care, V will make sure you are resting and taking your time to grief. You know you can’t always save them and he will say it as well. He makes sure you are eating and brings a hot drink for you(either tea or hot cocoa). If you need a day away from everything and just rest in bed, he would make sure you have some breakfast with juice next to it.

▬ι═ﺤ

You opened the door to V’s home, you got off of work, and V invited you into his home for dinner. After having a stressful day, you just wanted to relax, but V wasn’t home. It was quiet and dark, turning on the lights, you see some animals hungry and the plants need their water.

Grabbing the assorted food for each animal and giving the plants their water as well. You sit on his desk chair, stretching while you yawn. It seems V would be late to his own dinner invite, leaving you a smile, knowing this is a rare occurrence. Well, for a moment before seeing your lover walk in. He was holding his arm tightly.

Getting up and running towards him, immediately accessing his injuries. “Where did you put the first aid?”

Him, now noticing you were in his place, “Near my computer.” He sat on his bed when you were climbing his steps, removing his hand for you to fix it up for him. “Didn’t expect you here. I would have done it myself.”

“Well, a certain someone asked me to join him for dinner. I just didn’t expect to see you sliced up. Bad fight.” He nods. Placing that smile as you continue to patch him up. “Well, since I do not want to cook tonight, and I am gonna ban you from using your arm for a bit, let’s get takeout tonight. I’ll pay.”

He was gonna reject the offer but knowing how much you care about people, he just agrees. Allowing you to finish up and buy food that you both like. Enjoy a somewhat relaxed dinner date with your boyfriend.

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Angel

Even though both of you have very demanding jobs, you both share a calendar on each of your phones to track when you guys hang out. Before both of you moved in together, you guys would sleep call about each other's jobs.

When you notice she isn't taking care of herself, you try to make sure she does. Didn’t eat? You took your break early to make sure she eats. Tired? You pop up with a coffee with a note saying, ‘Sleep when you can love’. When she notices when you are also not taking care of yourself, she makes sure to take the next few days off with you to make sure you are on top health. She doesn’t want her favorite doctor to fall ill.

When you find out that she is a cannibal, you often sneak out human bits for her, sure it’s a joke. But you always notice they disappear sooner or later.

After losing a patient at your job, you would always take the next day off. And she would be at the ready. Holding you close as you cry into her arms, playing music in a playlist you both made. Just spending time with you until you feel better.

▄︻═════

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, you had a patient pass away from their illness. They were a nice kid who had dreams of becoming a doctor like you. Someone like… you. You felt like you disappointed the child and their parents. Everyone except the child knew they weren’t able to live as long, and kept this from everyone. It devastated you.

You heard your bedroom door open, looking over to see Angel with a steaming cup. She offered a small, comforting smile towards you. She sat closer to you as she shifted your head onto her lap.

“I’m here for you.” She plays with your hair as she places the cup on your nightstand with her other hand. She hums softly to fill the quiet air around the both of you.

She does make sure you eat and drink something, as you would do for her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Ronin

Ronin wants to be able to see you often, either calling during your job or just showing up for a ‘check up’. Just to annoy you(But it always leaves you a smile everytime he does.).

If you are a surgeon, he drags you out to his murders, you have to show him how to remove something. And he can, he wants you to, seeing you covered in blood reminds him that you aren’t some saving grace.

If he’s injured, he just shows up to your place, bloody and bruised. Leaving you to patch him up, after all you are the doctor. Luckily, you always carry first aid. Though, you do reprimand him while you do, heck when he gets sassy, you knock the back of his head. But he will laugh at you when you do, knowing he pissed you off.

On the unlucky days, losing a patient, Ronin was there. His twisted words always make you feel better somehow. Pulling you into his arms as he talked about his own job, distracting you from your own horrible reality at the moment. Or brings up the server, talking about how V isn’t getting any closer while pulling in jokes to see you smile.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Ronin dragged you out of your place, you just finished a 11 hour shift, so of course being tired was a understandment. Luckily, he brought you your favorite caffeine drink, a compromise in his eyes. Taking sips as he dragged you into his alleyway. He was out dragging poor souls that he would slaughter.

He always brought you to so he can also learn about your job, using the dead boys to explain. Surgeon? You have to cut open the body to show how you do it at work. Check ups? You would have to use scraps nearby that could get the job done. If the victim was unknown to both of you, you would evaluate the body. The dead man was an alcoholic, and abused his lover for little details. You knew him as well. He treated you poorly. Maybe, Ronin did poison your brain for smiling at the male being dead.

You were unbothered by the scene now, sipping your drink as you see Ronin stepping closer. “You have time tomorrow?” You shook your head. “Good, I need my favorite health care person tomorrow. I need to see how knowledgeable you are.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, but you know you would be there with your boyfriend. No matter the mess you would see.

“Now let's go, you seem like you are about to drop dead.”

“Says the man who dragged me out of bed to see them kill someone.”

“What can I say, I need my partner to see the bad man dead.”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Hope you enjoyed it again! Anyway, happy holidays!

#killer chat #killerchat #fanfic #gender neutral reader #killer chat ronin #x reader #ronin beaufort #ronin killer chat #canon x reader #killer chat vn #v x reader #killer chat v #misaki killer chat #misaki x reader #angel killer chat #killer chat game #killer chat angel #killer chat misaki #killer chat x reader

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elysiaheaven · 3 months ago

Text

"Pure Insatiablity"-[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓-𝟏] 𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐆.𝐍 (Yandere) 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓)

Words:6078

Genre: Yandere

Summary: It’s been almost eight months now, hasn’t it? Eight months of being wrapped in this obsession, this love that’s taken root so deep inside you. Eight months of loving him—so much it hurts, so much it feels like you're suffocating under the weight of it.

And when you stare at the screen, when you think about that character—the one your fans can’t get enough of—what you really see is him. Your love. Your darling. The one you’d do anything for.

( Reader is a g.n!)

TW: Obsessive behaviour, Lovesick, Blood, Violence, Crazy! Your daily dose of cringe! (He's crazy ><), (Reader is obsessive in love with him) Mentions of disturbing poetic lines?

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named Killer chat! Please play it! It's so good! I think I need to do more research on him, If what I wrote doesn't really scream him! I'm sorry! I'm still learning abt him! I KNOW IT'S BAD I'M SORRYY!!

I think you’re getting a little too in love...

C'mon! Tell me what you want. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Are you going to kill me? I've got a knife right here. Or are you kissing me, darling? How much do you feel?

Oh, you're so pretty when you're rotten and mine. I think you're divine.

Oh, Writer… How’s your relationship with the infamous butcher?

"Bad," you whisper under your breath, eyes glued to the blank page in front of you. The clock ticks, the hours pass, and nothing. Not a single word for days. And it stings, doesn’t it? Because your book—it’s your baby, your obsession—your masterpiece. It was an instant hit, loved, adored, and devoured by everyone who touched it. Fans left comments, raving about how perfect it was. Especially… him.

The e-emo killer. Your devil, wrapped in leather and shadows, blood-stained hands that still look so gentle. They called him cruel, twisted—yet oh, how they love him. Adored him. Fawned over him. The simps flooded your inbox, begging for more of him. That beautiful, wicked boy who haunted their dreams.

And let’s be honest—you love him too, don’t you?

After all, isn’t he just a reflection of someone else? Someone you know all too well?

Didn’t you mold the character from your darling’s essence? That man you can’t stop thinking about, the one who holds your heart in one hand and your throat in the other? The one you’d bleed for, die for—kill for?

Ah… you’re getting a little lovesick, aren’t you?

It’s been almost eight months now, hasn’t it? Eight months of being wrapped in this obsession, this love that’s taken root so deep inside you. Eight months of loving him—so much it hurts, so much it feels like you're suffocating under the weight of it.

And when you stare at the screen, when you think about that character—the one your fans can’t get enough of—what you really see is him. Your love. Your darling. The one you’d do anything for.

Isn’t that the truth? Isn’t that why your heart races, your fingers tremble when you write about the killer’s knife, the way it gleams in the dark? Because you imagine him—your love—doing the same to you, don’t you?

After all, isn't that why you can’t look away, can’t stop thinking, can’t breathe without feeling like you need him more than air?

Ah, calm yourself, love.

Eight months in, and look at you…

You want him. God, you want him so much it hurts. It’s like a sickness, spreading through your veins, consuming every inch of your soul. It’s the kind of need that claws at your heart, gnaws at your bones, turns your very breath into poison if he’s not near.

How did it get this bad? How did it go from quiet glances to full-blown obsession?

It started small, didn’t it? Little things—his voice in your ear, the calls, the games, the way his fingers brushed against your skin. The way he’d laugh, low and dark, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He’s always known, hasn’t he? How to bend you, break you, make you his.

But it’s more than that now. It’s an ache, deep in your chest, that never goes away. You crave him. You crave the way he looks at you like he sees every part of you—every ugly, twisted piece of your soul—and he loves it. You crave the way he owns you, how his presence alone makes you tremble, how just the thought of him drives you mad.

You can’t stop thinking about him. He’s there in every corner of your mind, lingering, waiting, watching. And you want him to watch. You want him to see every broken, desperate part of you. You want to lay yourself bare before him, beg for his touch, for his gaze, for his breath on your skin.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it? But oh, you’d fall to your knees for him. You’d give him everything. You already have.

You think about him late at night, when the world is quiet, and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding, heavy and relentless. You imagine him with you, his hands on your neck, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You’d let him take you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but his name carved into your bones, his scent burned into your skin.

You want him like fire. Like a storm. You want him with the kind of madness that doesn’t make sense, that drowns you, suffocates you in its wake. Every breath you take without him feels empty, incomplete.

He’s in your blood now, a part of you, and nothing will ever be enough. No touch, no kiss, no word will ever fill that void.

And the worst part? You love it. You love this sickness, this hunger, this desperate, gnawing ache. Because it’s him. Because it’s all for him.

He could ruin you, break you, destroy everything you are, and you’d thank him for it.

Isn’t that what you want? To be his? To be consumed by him, devoured until there’s nothing left of you but the pieces he chooses to keep?

It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? This love, this madness, this obsession. You, the writer, trying to put words to something that can’t be explained. Trying to capture this wild, violent need that swells inside you every time you think of him.

But how can you? How do you describe something so raw, so feral? How do you put into words the way your heart skips a beat every time you hear his name? The way your entire world tilts on its axis when he’s near?

You want him. Need him. More than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.

And you wonder… Does he know? Does he know how deep this goes? Does he understand that you’d do anything—everything—for him?

You think he does. You think he knows exactly how far you’ve fallen. And that’s what makes it so beautiful.

Because you’re not afraid of falling.

You understood him so much! Yet, you still...wanted him..?

The thing about Ronin is that his love is a poison wrapped in sugar, sweet to taste but deadly beneath the surface. He treats the same, as if they’re fragile toys in his hands, waiting to be bent, broken, and reshaped into something more. They’re not people to him—they’re puzzles to solve, games to play, and he plays them masterfully. Not out of cruelty, though. No, Ronin’s twisted mind justifies it as something deeper, something almost… noble.

He believes, with every fiber of his being, that he’s doing what’s best for them. That through the trials, the manipulation, the pain, they’ll emerge better—stronger. In his distorted way of thinking, he’s saving them, guiding them through the fire so they can burn away their weaknesses and be reborn into something new, something better. It’s not just a game to him—it’s a transformation. A test of endurance, of strength, of who they really are underneath it all.

This is how he shows his love. Not with tenderness, but with torment. He pulls at the strings of their souls, slowly unraveling them, watching them fall apart, believing—hoping—that by the time he’s done, they’ll thank him for it. That they’ll see what he sees: a person made whole again, remade into something that can survive in his world.

he’s doing the same with you, thinking that they’ll understand in the end, that this suffering is love in its purest form. To Ronin, it's not just affection—it's salvation.

It’s not enough for him to possess them; he has to break them. Only then can he feel secure in his love, believing they’re exactly who they’re supposed to be. That’s the only way he knows how to love. By tearing them down, by forcing them through the darkness… he thinks he’s giving them a gift.

A gift wrapped in shadows.

It’s been six days.

Six agonizing days without him. No messages, no calls, not even a single “Hey.” He’s not replying. He’s not talking. He’s … online tho. Why? Why is he doing this to you? You want to see him, you need to hear his voice again, but there’s nothing. The silence is eating at you, clawing at your insides, making your mind spiral.

Control it. Control yourself, you keep telling yourself. They don’t need to see it. They don’t need to know how much this is wrecking you. But it’s getting harder to hide. Everyone’s worried. Even they’ve started to notice how quiet you’ve become. How different you are without him.

Except for Ronin. He doesn’t care. He never does. In fact, with that stupid ego of his, he’s been trying to make you jealous these past few days. And you can feel it—every little jab, every smug comment—it’s uncanny how well he knows how to hit your nerves. But no matter how much Ronin gets under your skin, it’s not him you care about.

It’s him.

And it’s not just Ronin. V and Angel have been suggesting things, too. Methods to… fix things. One of them even had the audacity to suggest separating from him. A clean break. “Maybe it’s for the best,” they said, as if they understood. As if they could possibly know how much you need him.

But you hate the idea. You despise it. The thought of being separated from him—it’s like a knife twisting in your gut. You thought he wouldn’t want that either. He wouldn’t, right?

But to your shock—right there, in the middle of the voice chat, without any hesitation, he said it.

“Yeah, I can stay away for six weeks. That’s fine.”

Six weeks. You could barely process it. Your heart stopped. The number felt like it was mocking you, taunting you. Of all numbers, six? It was so… him. The devil’s number, the one he always played with. You almost smiled, almost thought it was cute—almost. But there was nothing cute about this. No, this was pure torture.

How could he say that so casually? Like it didn’t even matter. Like he wasn’t tearing you apart inside.

Because you need him. You really need him. And you thought—no, you were certain—he needed you too.

But here he is, agreeing to stay away. Six long, suffocating weeks without him. How are you supposed to survive that? How are you supposed to breathe, to think, to function without him? He’s your everything, your entire world, and now he’s just… gone?

You hate it. You hate every second of it. Every second without him feels like a lifetime, a slow, agonizing descent into madness. And you can’t help but wonder—what if he doesn’t miss you like you miss him? What if this is easier for him than it is for you?

But no—no. You know he feels the same way. You have to believe that. He’s just playing his part, the devilish role he always slips into so easily. After all, isn’t that what he is? Just a stupid guy who roleplays as the devil. That’s all, right?

But then why does it hurt so much? Why do you feel like you’re unraveling, coming apart at the seams without him?

And without him, you feel like you’re losing a part of yourself.

Six days. Six weeks. Six months. It doesn’t matter. Time feels meaningless when he’s not around, when you can’t feel him, can’t hear him, can’t touch him.

You miss him.

To help you cope, the entire server of serial killers—now your closest group of buddies—created a separate group chat. One without Ronin. It was for your own good, they said. To keep you distracted, keep you sane, while you waited for him.

Angel didn’t want to include Luca or Feli, though. You knew why. They’d just gotten into a relationship, and seeing them happy together might upset you even more. The jealousy would gnaw at you, and Angel, despite her sharp edges, was too considerate to do that to you.

So now it’s just you, Angel, Misaki, and V—the four besties. Well, they’re worried, no doubt about that. You can feel it in every message, every forced joke. Everyone’s trying to keep things light, but the concern bleeds through.

Just like Vince said… it’s destructive and toxic, right? This obsession you have with Ronin. But then again, Feli said it best—it’s not just toxic. It’s all three. Passionate, chill, horrific—a twisted cocktail of emotions that you can’t escape from. It’s suffocating, it’s addictive, and you know it.

But it’s so you, isn’t it?

Angel—the elegant femme fatale.... Some even say she’s a cannibal just for fun, and she plays along. She’s the type that captivates hearts effortlessly, pulls you in with a glance. If you were with her, maybe you could’ve seen the light, stepped away from this madness. Maybe you’d be happier, calmer… safe.

But no. Your heart is too far gone. Your ideals have shifted, haven’t they? Now you’re lost in the darkness, enthralled by your own version of the seven deadly sins.

Misaki, the cute, chaotic mess. The drunken assassin for hire, always too hyper for her own good. She kills with a smile, pays her rent with blood money, and somehow makes it seem so… effortless. But beneath all that bubbly energy, you know she’s just trying to survive, like the rest of you.

Then there’s V. Rigid. Just. Moral, in his own twisted way. The boomerang uncle who believes in his heart that his justice comes through killing. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t flinch, and somehow, that moral code of his feels strangely comforting. Like if you were ever to lose yourself completely, he’d be there to rein you back in. Or at least try to.

They’re all on the call now—talking, laughing, trying to pull you into the conversation. But you’re not really there. Your heart isn’t. You nod, give half-hearted replies, but all you can think about is him.

You just want Ronin. Already.

Their voices blur together in the background, but your mind keeps drifting back to him. That silence. Six days. Six weeks. Whatever. It’s driving you insane. You need him, need his voice, his presence. No matter what distractions they throw at you, nothing fills that void he left behind.

You sigh deeply, staring at the screen. They don’t understand. They can’t.

Everyone is talking at once, their voices flooding the call, trying to drown out the quiet chaos in your mind. Misaki’s high-pitched laughter cuts through the noise first, followed by V’s calm, grounding voice, and then Angel’s teasing but kind remarks, all woven together in an attempt to cheer you up.

V, always trying to keep things steady, eventually turns the conversation towards your writing. “How’s that new book coming along?” he asks, the one he’d helped inspire, no less. “The story about that ‘good man who kills for justice.’ I thought you had a pretty solid start.”

You blink, snapping back to reality. The new book. Right. The one with the protagonist who’s supposed to be a "good man" who kills for justice, fighting against corruption with a moral code as rigid as V’s. You want to write it, you really do. But every time you sit down to start... your thoughts drift. To him.

But you can’t help it—your mind wanders back to Ronin. The story might be about someone else, a character of pure moral code, someone who kills for justice like V had imagined. But all you see, all you feel as you try to write, is him. Ronin, with his smirk, his chaotic energy, how he gets under your skin and stays there. He’s nothing like the character in your new book, and yet, he’s the only thing you can think about.

He’s your muse, your obsession—your devil incarnate. And you almost laugh at the thought. Isn’t that just who Ronin is? A creator of chaos, a devil in your head, inspiring you even when he doesn’t mean to. A part of you is frustrated—he doesn’t even fit this new story, but somehow, he’s taken over anyway.

But you sigh, leaning back in your chair. "I... I just don’t feel inspired right now." You don’t want to admit it, but everything you want to write seems to tie back to Ronin, no matter how hard you try to focus on something else. He’s in everything you do, like an ever-present shadow.

Angel’s voice cuts through. "Of course, you’re not inspired. You’re too clingy right now, and it’s all because of him. You’ve gotta let it go for a bit; otherwise, it’ll just boost Ronin’s ego, and you know he lives for that."

You can’t help but chuckle weakly at that. She’s right—Ronin would love knowing he’s got you wrapped around his little finger, knowing you’re craving his attention this much. But you don’t care. You want to be wrapped up in him, and the thought doesn’t bother you one bit. Still, you don’t say that out loud. You don’t want to admit to everyone how deep your feelings run for him.

Instead, you steer the conversation somewhere else, tossing around random comments and joking with them. Misaki pipes up, practically bouncing in her seat as she talks about her latest commission. “So, get this—I nailed the shot perfectly. One kill, clean. And with that, rent’s paid for this month!” She laughs, but you can hear the relief in her voice.

You can’t help but tease her. “Next month’s going to come around quicker than you think, though,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

She whines dramatically, clutching her head. “Noooo! Don’t remind me! I’ll need another commission soon or I’m doomed!” Her pout is cute, and you laugh despite yourself. Misaki’s a mess, but she’s your mess (friend!).

Angel snorts. “I feel that. Work’s been tight, but I’m okay for now. Barely.”

Then there’s V,. “I’ve been busy taking care of my birds lately. They’re a handful,” he says, the warmth in his voice clear. He pauses for a moment before adding, “Still... I respect you. Always have. You’ve got this pure heart. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Ronin mess that up for you. Him trying to make you feel like this—it pisses me off.”

You smile at that, appreciating his words. But deep down, you can’t help but think, Pure? Is that really what you are anymore? After everything with Ronin, after letting yourself fall so deep into this twisted, all-consuming love, are you still that pure-hearted person V thinks you are?

Because honestly... haven’t you already started slipping? Saving parts of yourself just for Ronin?

Angel’s voice breaks through the light banter, her usual teasing tone softened with concern. “I’m worried about you,” she says, her words pointed, cutting through the surface-level chat. “This thing with Ronin… it’s not good for you.”

You don’t respond, just sit there silently, staring at the screen, your mind lost somewhere far from the conversation. V, ever the protective one, comes to your defense as usual. “Come on, Angel. They wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he says with a sigh, glancing at you. “Right?”

You don’t say anything, and V’s expression darkens just slightly. The silence weighs heavier than your words could. “Look,” V adds, more serious now. “If you ever killed anyone for Ronin, if you ever did it for some guilty pleasure, it’d be your first and last. Because I would kill you myself.” His voice is firm but caring, like a friend! trying to protect you from something you might not even see coming.

You snap out of your daze for a moment, glancing at V. “I just won’t let you,” you reply quietly, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. There’s a defiance in your voice, but it’s laced with that lovesick longing. You’d do anything for Ronin. And V knows it.

Misaki, sensing the tension, tries to shift the conversation. “So! Uh, anyway, I’ve been thinking about getting a new place, but the rent’s—”

You cut her off, your mind too focused, too fixated on one thing. “What’s Ronin doing?”

Angel sighs heavily, her frustration barely hidden now. “He’s fine.”

But it’s V who answers. “He’s fine without you,” he says bluntly, though there’s a softness in his tone like he’s trying to prepare you for a blow. You flinch inwardly, but you manage to keep your face blank, pretending it doesn’t cut as deep as it does.

You sit there, frozen, but V doesn’t stop. “He’s… happy. I think he’s gone off to kill someone again.” His voice is cold, almost detached, like he’s telling you a fact that doesn’t matter. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s serious and clingy in this relationship.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you can feel your heart breaking, shattering into tiny, irreparable pieces. But you force a smile, the kind that barely reaches your eyes. “It’s fine,” you say, your voice trembling just a little. “It’s perfect. He’s perfect the way he is.”

But your eyes betray you. They’re wide, filled with that twisted, lovesick devotion, like you’re drowning in your feelings and don’t even care. In your head, all you can think about is sinking deeper into Ronin’s world, letting him consume you completely, until there’s nothing left of who you used to be. You want it. You want him. You want to lose yourself in him, no matter how much it destroys you.

You sit there after the call, the silence enveloping you, but your thoughts still swirling around Ronin like a storm you can't escape. You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you open your laptop, telling yourself you’ll work on your book, like they told you. But your fingers hover over the keys, your mind already somewhere else.

“I just feel… fuzzy about him,” you had told Angel earlier, trying to explain this maddening, obsessive feeling in the pit of your stomach. But she’d only laughed, though not unkindly.

“Even I wasn’t this bad,” she’d said, smirking like she was trying to make light of it. “Maybe your love is just too strong.” Her attempt to cheer you up had actually worked, even if just a little. You had smiled, a tiny flicker of warmth in your chest.

“Cheer up,” she’d added. “And get back to your story."

“Yeah,” you had murmured, not really listening, already thinking about Ronin. Already missing him.

Now, sitting alone with your laptop open, you try to follow her advice. You start typing, the title of your story staring back at you, but… it’s not the story you’re supposed to be writing, is it?

You start typing, but the words don’t match the character V had wanted—the noble killer with a rigid moral code. No, the character that comes alive under your fingers is someone else entirely.

He’s dark, dangerous, with a wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. His eyes are sharp, burning with mischief, and his laugh… God, his laugh. It’s him. It’s Ronin. You can’t stop yourself from writing him into the story, from turning him into the devilish figure you can’t tear your eyes away from.

And you? You slip into the story, too. Not as a secondary character. Not as an observer. No. You’re his love interest. The one who falls into his arms, who sinks into his darkness willingly. You let him consume you, wrap you up in his world of danger and chaos because you crave it. You crave him.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing at first. The words just flow out of you, like a love letter disguised as a story. A love note for Ronin. Each sentence is a confession, each scene a reflection of how deeply he’s burrowed into your mind, into your heart. It’s raw, it’s messy, it’s everything you feel but can’t say out loud.

You type and type, not caring that you’ve completely derailed from the plot you were supposed to follow. The good man who kills for justice? He doesn’t exist in your world right now. There’s only Ronin. The devil. The one who owns every corner of your heart, no matter how much he tries to push you away.

Hours pass, and by the time you stop typing, you realize you’ve written pages—an entire chapter, maybe more. But it’s not the story you were meant to write. It’s yours. It’s your obsession, your madness, poured out into words.

You sit back and stare at the screen, feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. You know you should be working on your real book, but part of you can’t help but smile at what you’ve created. It’s a mess, but it’s yours.

Angel sighed, pushing her hair back as she leaned over her phone, eyes narrowing. "V, why didn’t you tell them about how Ronin’s been acting? He’s not even talking to me, and you're just… brushing it off?"

V, sitting , didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smiled—actually smiled—something he rarely did, the corner of his lips curling in amusement. "I wanted to see how they were," he said with a shrug, his voice calm. "And you know what? They’re fine. I’ve been keeping an eye."

Angel didn’t seem convinced. She crossed her arms, a frown pulling at her features. "I’m worried, V. I mean… did you see them? They seemed slightly crazy—like, lovesick, obsessed. I’m telling you, I'm worried about them, I don't know...Suddenly I don't want to become whatever the hell we are."

V’s smile faded slightly, but his expression remained soft. "They’re not that type, Angel. You know them. Yeah, they’re obsessed with Ronin, but they haven’t done anything reckless yet." His tone grew more serious, though. "Ronin hasn’t corrupted them… at least, not completely."

Angel chewed her lip, her fingers fidgeting over her phone before she made a decision. "I’m just gonna text him, just to make sure he’s there," she muttered, quickly typing out a message to Ronin.

Moments passed before her phone buzzed, and Ronin’s reply popped up: Devil’s here!

She sighed in mild relief, rolling her eyes at his theatrics. "Of course… that’s typical Ronin."

But before she could relax, V picked up , sending a message to Ronin with a more pointed tone. "I’m not as patient as Angel," he said as he typed. "If you don’t start talking, there’s going to be consequences." He hit send, leaning back, expecting some sarcastic response.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed with the exact same reply: Devil’s here!

V blinked, his brow furrowing as he stared at the screen. Angel glanced over, her own phone vibrating with a second, identical message from Ronin. "Wait…" she muttered, frowning. "Isn’t that…?"

Misaki, who’d been quietly sipping a drink, glanced at her phone too and snickered. "Guys, that’s his automated reply prank! He’s done this before!"

For a brief moment, the group shared a collective groan and laughed it off, realizing they’d all fallen for one of Ronin’s infamous tricks. He had a habit of setting up automated responses, just to mess with them.

But then the laughter died down as the realization settled in.

Angel glanced at her phone again. "Wait… if it’s just an auto-reply…" Her voice trailed off as her stomach dropped.

Misaki, the first to speak, sounded nervous now. "Uh, so, where’s Ronin?"

V realized. "Well, I guess he's just as clingy as them. God, I'm gonna kill him."

Your thoughts too clouded by the constant, gnawing ache inside you. You can’t shake it, can’t stop thinking about him. Ronin. The only thing that occupies your mind as you walk out the door, moving through the streets like you're in a trance.

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself wandering Uptown, your steps naturally pulling you toward that one alley—the one they call Purgatory. It’s notorious, the kind of place everyone avoids, where even whispers of its name send shivers down spines. The Butcher’s territory. People have seen the aftermath here—limbs and pieces of flesh strewn like discarded trash, blood painting the graffiti-splattered walls. It’s grotesque, macabre.

But to you? It’s something else entirely.

You call it your love birth!

It’s twisted, isn’t it? You can’t help the smile creeping up on your face as you step into the dark, narrow space. This is where it all began. Where you had your first kiss with Ronin, right here in the heart of chaos. The same place where bodies had been ripped apart, left to rot. That’s where you became his fallen angel.

The memory washes over you like a wave—his hands on your face, his lips crushing against yours with that devilish intensity. You still remember the taste of copper in the air, the blood that stained his hands… and the way it didn’t matter. Not in the slightest. That was the moment you knew—there was no going back. You were his, no matter what.

Your heart races as you walk deeper into the alley, your eyes scanning the area with that lovesick expression. Every corner, every shadow, you search with a strange kind of yearning. Maybe he left something behind. Maybe some small trace of him remains, something he forgot—something you can cling to.

You know it’s irrational, but your mind can’t help it. You want him. You need him. Every thought, every breath, is consumed by him. You’ve become addicted to the way he makes you feel—alive, wild, free. And now, without him, you feel like you’re floating, untethered, falling further and further into the abyss.

You walk slowly, your fingers brushing against the walls as you pass by, half-hoping you’ll stumble across something—anything that could be a sign from him. A discarded cigarette, a drop of blood, some trace of his presence that would prove he’s been here.

But the alley is silent. Empty.

Still, you don’t stop. Your heart beats faster the further you go, your mind racing with the memory of him. His voice. His laugh. The way he pulls you into his world, his darkness, and makes it feel like home.

By the time you reach the far end of the alley, your eyes have glazed over, filled with that lovesick haze that you can’t shake. You’re lost in it, drowning in the feeling. You want to see him, to feel him again, to fall deeper into that sinful connection.

You pause, standing still for a moment, the weight of the emptiness settling in around you.

He’s not here.

But God, you wish he was.

You freeze when you hear it—a faint, metallic scraping sound echoing through the alley. The unmistakable drag of a crowbar. Your heart skips a beat, and a rush of adrenaline floods your veins.

It’s him.

Ronin.

The sound makes your pulse quicken, your body tensing in anticipation as you spin around, trying to catch a glimpse of him. You begin to move, searching the shadows, desperately scanning every dark corner of the alley for any sign of him. Your heart pounds as your breath catches in your throat. He’s here. He has to be.

But then, the sound stops. Dead silence.

Before you can react, a sudden force slams into you, pushing you hard against the cold, graffiti-stained wall. Your breath is knocked out of you for a moment, and you barely register what’s happening before a strong arm wraps around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground. You gasp, your heart racing, your body pinned between the rough brick and the figure in front of you.

And then… his lips crash into yours.

Ronin.

You melt instantly into the kiss, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The intensity of it, the hunger—it’s like he’s claiming you all over again, pulling you back into his orbit. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you up, his body pressing hard against yours.

When he finally pulls away, his breath hot against your skin, his voice is low, teasing. “Seems like you were pathetically sniffing around for clues, weren’t you? Like a lost little puppy darling?… so desperate to know if I was here.”

Your eyes flutter open, your head still spinning, trying to gather your thoughts, but they slip away in the haze of his presence. You can’t think straight, not when he’s this close, not when his scent fills your lungs, and his lips are still so dangerously close to yours.

You try to speak, to explain, to say something, but your voice catches in your throat. The words never come. He smirks, seeing your struggle, and presses a finger to your lips, silencing you before you can even attempt to respond.

“Shh,” he whispers, his tone dripping with amusement. “No need to talk, Darling. I know exactly what you want.”

Your body trembles, love-sick and overwhelmed. It’s like your whole world is centered around him, every fiber of your being drawn to him in a way you can’t control. You’re drowning in him, in this moment, and you can’t help but feel exactly what he’s accusing you of.

Desperate.

You don’t care about anything else. You just want him.

Your fingers clutch at his jacket, and your body leans closer, your lips parting as if to say his name, but no sound escapes. You don’t need to speak—he can already see the longing in your eyes, the way you’re losing yourself in him.

“Haha...” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear as his lips hover near your neck. “So love-sick…I did it all Didn't I?"

Ronin sighed, leaning his head back slightly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "That fucking V," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as a low laugh escaped his throat.

You blinked, still trying to catch up with the intensity of the moment. "What… what did V lie about?" you asked, your voice soft and shaky, still lost in the feeling of him so close, his presence overwhelming.

Ronin’s laughter deepened, the sound dark and teasing as he looked back down at you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "He told me you were completely normal," he said, the grin spreading across his face. "That you didn’t even miss me." His fingers grazed your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of exhilaration surging through you. "He told you that?!" you gasped, eyes wide. "He said the same thing to me! That you were fine without me, that you didn’t care!"

Ronin’s smirk grew more sinister, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "So much for his precious 'justice.' Lying straight to both our faces," he said, his tone laced with mockery. "Maybe V thinks it’s all for the 'greater good.'" He rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by the thought.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Maybe," you teased with a grin, "he thought he was saving us or something." But before you could continue, Ronin’s hand shot up, gently pressing over your mouth.

His voice dropped lower, the playfulness fading from his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Stop talking about another guy when you’re with me."

You froze, instantly obeying, your hand instinctively covering your mouth, the playful teasing evaporating as you felt his gaze burning into you. The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrilling, electric charge through your entire body.

He chuckled at your reaction, clearly satisfied by the way you instantly silenced yourself for him. His other hand gripped your waist, pinning you harder against the wall as his eyes trailed over you, dark and hungry. "Now," he said, his tone softening into a more sinister purr, "how much did you miss me?"

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. "A lot," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I missed you so much… I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. It even messed with my writing… I just kept thinking about you, obsessing over you—"

His grip tightened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Obsessing, huh? Sounds like you’ve been going full yandere on me." He chuckled, his fingers brushing through your hair as he leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours. "Say it," he commanded, his voice dropping into that dangerous, addictive tone. "Say that you love me."

Your heart pounded as you looked into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze swallowing you whole. "I love you," you whispered, breathless, the words slipping out like a confession. "I love you… I love you…"

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing as you kept repeating it like a broken record, your voice desperate, lovesick. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Ronin let out a low, mocking laugh. "Pathetic," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. "To think that I like this." He watched you, entertained, as you kept whispering the words over and over, your voice trembling with devotion.

He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. "Keep your attention on me… forever. Don’t even think about anyone else. It’s me you belong to. Got it? Darling?

Your heart felt like it might burst as you nodded, utterly consumed by the intensity of his words.

Ronin chuckled darkly, his lips finally crashing against yours once again, sealing you completely in his world. There was no escape. There never would be.

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #ronin x reader #ronin beaufort #killer chat x reader #dating sim #visual novel #ronin beaufort x reader #Angel #Misaki #V #killer chat vn

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cloudss-space · 19 days ago

Note

i humbly request misaki in the midst of all the ronin fics (lovely btw!) misaki x reader where misaki is coming back from a mission to them and reader’s shared home…. 🫶 thank you for all your hard work!!!

Baking gone... right?

( killer chat ) misaki x reader ... fluff ...

author's note: hello hello and merry christams ! tis the season and for this ask i did a bit of a holiday special, enjoy <3 I also ended up only using they/them for misaki as that is easier for me. trigger warning:

mention of guns / murder

The city is alive with an unnatural hum, its veins pulsing with desperation and betrayal. Misaki stands on the edge of a crumbling rooftop. The wind pulls at their dark hair like ghostly fingers. Their silhouette is sharp against the dull glow of distant neon. Their rifle feels like a cold weight in their hands, a grim reminder of the choice they've made. For their parents. For the debt that strangled their family like a noose. For survival.

The target is a shadow framed by the dim light of an office window. They move slowly and methodically, unaware of the unseen eyes that track them with the precision of a predator. Misaki's breath is steady, a practiced calm that belies the storm raging within. They do not think of morality or the life they are about to take; such thoughts are a luxury they cannot afford. Their thoughts are fixed on the faces of their loved ones, the fear etched into their parents' features when they spoke of collectors, threats and the possibility of losing everything.

The rifle's scope brings the world into unnerving clarity, the target's face suddenly too close, too human. Misaki's finger hovers over the trigger. Their body is tense with anticipation. They know this person is not innocent. They've built their fortune on the suffering of others, pulling strings that wrapped tighter around the necks of people like Misaki's family. It doesn't make the act easier, but it makes it bearable.

The city holds its breath as Misaki's finger finally presses down. The shot rings out, sharp and final, cutting through the night like a scream. The target crumples, a puppet whose strings have been severed, and the world exhales again, but this time it feels heavier. Misaki lowers the rifle, their hands trembling despite their resolve. The job is done. The debt, perhaps, will be erased. But at what cost?

They slip away into the shadows, their movements quick and silent, their heart pounding in their chest like a trapped bird. The streets blur around them as they navigate the labyrinthine alleyways. Their thoughts are a chaotic whirl of relief, guilt, and the aching need to see you. They need to feel your touch, your warmth, to remind themselves that they are still human despite the blood on their hands.

When they reach the apartment, their body is clearly tired from the night. The key feels foreign in their fingers as they unlock the door, stepping inside to the familiar warmth of your shared home. It smells faintly of lavender and rain, a stark contrast to the metallic tang of gunpowder clinging to their clothes.

They stand in the doorway, breathing shallowly, shoulders slumped, as though the very act of existing is too much. And then they see you—waiting, your face lighting up the moment you notice them. They don't feel they deserve this light, but it pulls them in like a lifeline.

When the door opens, you are immediately engulfed by their presence. Misaki's scent is unmistakable: gunpowder and rain, a heady mix that clings to their clothes and skin. Their breath is warm, their face flushed with the adrenaline of the hunt, their lips curling into a small, tired smile.

"Miss me?" they whisper, their voice low and roughened by the cold, yet soft in its affection. They don't wait for an answer; they never do. Their lips press against your cheek, your jaw, your neck—gentle, eager, frantic. Each kiss feels like a promise, like they're trying to erase the distance that the mission carved between you.

Their hands are firm yet careful, pulling you closer, grounding you in their touch. You melt into them, the tension in your body dissolving as they press their forehead against yours, their dark hair falling like silk against your skin. Their eyes—soft and tired but full of something that burns just for you—lock onto yours.

"I'm here," they say, their voice a quiet reassurance, a reminder that they always come back. Their lips meet yours in a slow, deep kiss, surrender and claim in one powerful move. Their hands find your back and the heat of their palms is felt through your shirt, igniting a warmth that spreads through your chest.

The world outside fades—the cold, the city, the weight of their mission—none of it matters anymore. There is only Misaki, their presence filling the room, their touch erasing every doubt, every fear. They pull back just enough to look at you, their gaze soft and steady, their expression laced with something raw and vulnerable.

"You're my safe place," they whisper, and there's a weight to their words that makes your heart ache. They have seen and done so much, but here, in your arms, they let it all fall away.

They guide you to the couch, their arms still wrapped around you, as if letting go would mean losing something precious. You sink into the cushions, and they follow, curling against you like a cat seeking warmth. Their kisses never stop, soft presses of their lips against your temple, your hairline, the tip of your nose. Each one is a declaration of love, an unspoken "I love you" in every touch.

Their fingers tangle in your hair, their thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. Their tension eases as their body releases the weight of the day. They nuzzle into the crook of your neck, their breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the faint tremor of their exhale, like they're finally letting themselves breathe.

"You're everything to me," they murmur, the words muffled against your collarbone, but the sincerity in their voice is unmistakable. They kiss you again, soft and lingering, their lips tasting of rain and something bittersweet.

Time slows, the moments stretching out like golden threads, weaving a tapestry of warmth and belonging. The apartment feels smaller now, cozier, the walls closing in just enough to make the space intimate, sacred.

Misaki's voice is a quiet hum as they tell you about the mission, their words laced with exhaustion but also relief that it's over and that they're here with you. Their hands are constantly moving, brushing against your skin, holding you close and anchoring them in your presence.

You trace your fingers along their arm, over the muscles that still carry the tension of their task, over the soft fabric of their jacket. They shiver slightly under your touch, leaning into you, their eyes fluttering shut.

"Don't ever let me go," they say, their voice barely audible, but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken things. You tighten your hold on them, your lips pressing against their hair in silent reassurance.

Misaki stirs after a minute, the lingering traces of their kisses still on your skin like a soft, comforting haze. Their dark lashes flutter open, revealing eyes that are playful and full of life. They shift slightly, wrapping their arms tighter around you as they let out a small, satisfied sigh, nuzzling into your neck for one last moment of closeness before lifting their head to meet your gaze.

"Okay, okay," they say, their voice teasingly laced with lilt, "I've kissed you enough for now. But it's the holiday season, so let's do something cute. The words tumble out, their mischievous energy palpable, and you feel a smile tug at the corners of your lips, drawn in by their warmth.

Misaki sits up, their messy hair catching the faint glow of the holiday lights strung across the living room. Their excitement is palpable as they tug at your hands, leading you into the kitchen. "Cookies," they announce, their tone definitive. "We're making cookies. Festive ones. But, you know, our style."

You follow them, their enthusiasm infectious, and soon the kitchen is alive with the soft clatter of bowls and utensils, the hum of the oven warming up, and the faint scent of vanilla and sugar. Misaki pulls out ingredients with a rush, their movements quick and uncoordinated but full of charm.

"I have ideas," they say, their voice low with conspiratorial glee. They hold up a bag of frosting tubes like a weapon arsenal, their expression so serious it's comical. "And by 'ideas,' I mean meme cookies. Obviously."

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Meme cookies?" you repeat, watching as they grin like a mischievous child who's just gotten away with something.

"Oh, you'll see," they reply cryptically, already spreading flour across the counter. They hand you a rolling pin, their fingers brushing yours in a way that makes your heart flutter, and together, you begin rolling out the dough.

The kitchen quickly becomes a delightful mess of scattered flour, sticky dough, and half-filled bowls of icing in various colours. Misaki hums holiday songs under their breath, occasionally breaking into an off-key rendition of lyrics they clearly don't know, and you laugh.

"Behold!" they exclaim, holding up a cookie like it's a masterpiece. It's a mess, with icing dripping off the sides, but they're so proud that it's impossible to say anything but, "It's perfect."

Misaki beams at your words, leaning over to smear a bit of frosting onto your cheek with a cheeky grin. "Perfectly cursed", they retort, laughing as you swipe some frosting onto their nose in retaliation.

The two of you work side by side, creating increasingly absurd cookies, each one more ridiculous than the last. The holiday season fades into the background; the only thing that matters is the shared laughter, the playful teasing, and the way Misaki occasionally leans over to steal a quick kiss, their lips sticky with frosting but sweet nonetheless.

The kitchen smells of vanilla and sugar, warm and inviting, with the faintest hint of burned edges—evidence of a learning curve you know too well. Misaki stands at the counter, their dark hair pulled back messily, flour dusting their sleeves and a streak of icing smudged across their cheek. They've been at this for hours, as the chaos strewn across the counters attests: spilled sugar, bowls of half-mixed icing and cookie cutters in shapes that seem oddly specific.

On the cooling rack, an army of absurd creations awaits. The first one you notice is a bold, green cookie shaped into the unmistakable face of Pepe the Frog. The icing is uneven, the lines of his doleful expression wobbling as if drawn by a hand more accustomed to precision than playfulness. It's charming, though, in its imperfection, the work of someone who's trying to make you smile.

Next to Pepe is a cookie shaped like the iconic crewmate from Among Us. The icing is a glossy red, with a tiny, painstakingly detailed visor made of shimmering blue. Misaki's drawing of a tiny, exaggerated knife sticking out of its back is a tribute to their mischievous sense of humour.

There are others too, including one that looks vaguely like a Shiba Inu, with orange icing that is uneven but unmistakable as a homage to Doge. Another cookie resembles the grinning face of the Troll meme, its expression so ridiculous you can't suppress your giggle. Misaki notices and turns to you, their smile sheepish but proud, their eyes glinting with a mix of embarrassment and affection.

"I thought you'd like them," they say, their voice soft and hesitant, as if unsure whether this effort has hit its mark. You step closer, reaching out to pluck one of the cookies off the rack—the Troll face—and take a bite. The sweetness of sugar and butter melts on your tongue, but it's the care behind the gesture that truly fills you with warmth.

"These are ridiculous," you say, a mouthful of crumbs, your grin wide and unguarded. Misaki snorts, crossing their arms but failing to hide the smile that tugs at their lips.

They lean against the counter, watching you inspect the rest of their creations. There's a cookie shaped like the "Crying Cat" meme, its eyes two uneven pools of blue icing, and another that looks like the Galaxy Brain meme, though its swirled purple and pink design suggests they gave up halfway through.

"How'd you even come up with this?" you ask, waving a cookie shaped like Wojak in their direction. Misaki shrugs, the corner of their mouth quirking up in a smirk.

"I wanted to make you laugh," they admit, their voice quiet but steady. "You've been stressed, and I thought—well, cookies are supposed to help, right? Even if they look... like this." They gesture at the chaos, their hands fluttering as if to encompass the absurdity of their creations.

You set the cookie down and close the space between you, slipping your arms around their waist. They freeze for a moment, surprised by your sudden closeness, but then they relax, their arms wrapping around you in return.

"They're perfect," you murmur, your voice muffled against their shoulder. Misaki's laugh is soft, almost disbelieving, but it's accompanied by the way they tighten their hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Perfectly cursed," they tease, their tone light and warm, reflecting the contentment that settles between you like a blanket.

You pull back just enough to meet their gaze, your fingers brushing away the streak of icing on their cheek. Their eyes meet yours, steady and tender, and their expression softens in a way that makes your heart ache with affection.

"Thank you," you say, the weight of your words palpable. Misaki nods, their smile small but genuine, and they lean in to press their lips to yours, a kiss that tastes faintly of sugar and something sweeter.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening sampling the cookies, laughing at their absurdity and debating which meme was the most cursed. Misaki insists the Among Us one is the funniest, while you're partial to the lopsided Crying Cat.

By the time the the early morning comes in, the kitchen is a mess, the cookies are half-eaten, and the air is filled with the sound of your laughter. Misaki pulls you onto the couch, their arms wrapping around you as they bury their face in your hair, their breath warm against your skin.

"You're worth all the chaos," they murmur, their voice soft but steady. You smile, leaning into them, your heart full, knowing that even in their most ridiculous gestures, Misaki's love shines through.

You shake your head, smiling as you reach for a cookie. It's misshapen and covered in garish frosting, but it tastes perfect—a mix of sweetness and laughter, chaos and love. Misaki watches you eat, their expression softening, and they lean closer, pressing a frosting-laden kiss to your temple.

"Best holiday ever," they murmur, and you know they're right.

Misaki turns to you, a sheepish grin tugging at their lips. There's a smudge of chocolate on their cheek, and their sleeves are rolled up unevenly, revealing forearms speckled with tiny traces of batter. They're holding a spatula like it's a weapon, as if preparing to fight off whatever judgment you might bring. Their eyes meet yours, revealing a hint of worry beneath their usual calm exterior.

"I didn't burn it," they declare triumphantly, waving the spatula like a flag of victory. Their voice conveys relief, tempered by the realisation of how close they came to disaster. You raise a brow, glancing at the slightly charred edges of a few cookies resting on the cooling rack.

"I almost didn't burn it," you tease, your voice light but affectionate. Misaki groans, tossing the spatula onto the counter dramatically before leaning back against the edge. Their cheeks are slightly flushed, a mix of exertion and embarrassment, and it makes your chest ache with fondness.

"I swear," they begin, gesturing vaguely at the oven as if it betrayed them. "This thing has a vendetta against me. I followed the recipe exactly, and it still tried to catch fire."

Your laughter bubbles up, filling the room with the warmth of the oven. Misaki huffs, their pout exaggerated, but the corners of their mouth twitch upward in response to your joy. They reach for a towel to wipe their hands, their movements careful, as if even they can't believe they survived their baking adventure unscathed.

"Did you have the fire extinguisher ready?" you ask, stepping closer to survey the damage—or lack thereof. Misaki raises a finger, as if to make a point, but their expression falters and they glance toward the corner where the extinguisher sits, untouched.

"Well, let's just say I trusted my instincts," they admit, a mischievous glint returning to their eyes. You shake your head, laughing, and before you can stop yourself, you reach out to swipe the chocolate smudge from their cheek. Your fingers linger for a moment, the gesture tender and reassuring.

"Your instincts were lucky this time," you say, your tone softening. Misaki's grin widens and they lean into your touch just slightly, their eyes holding yours like they're memorising the way you look in this moment.

They step aside, revealing the finished cookies arranged in chaotic clusters on a tray. Among the creations are meme-inspired disasters: a lopsided Pepe, a slightly melted Among Us crewmate, and a crying cat whose tears have merged into one large, mournful streak. Despite their imperfections, they radiate charm, evidence of Misaki's earnest effort to make you smile.

"I wanted it to be special," they say confidently, their voice revealing a rare vulnerability. "For you."

Their sincerity envelops you like a blanket, instantly dispelling any annoyance you might have felt about the potential kitchen disaster. You step closer, your arms around their waist, and they laugh, surprised, before pulling you into their warmth.

"It is special," you murmur, your cheek pressed against their shoulder. "Because it's you."

They hold you tightly, their hands splayed across your back, grounding themselves in your presence. The mess in the kitchen fades into the background; the steady rhythm of their breathing and the quiet hum of contentment fills the space between you.

When you pull away, their smile is softer, their eyes shining with affection. Misaki tilts her head, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before grabbing one of the cookies. They hold it up like a trophy, their grin returning in full force.

"Try it," they urge, their excitement palpable. You bite into the cookie, the sweetness coating your tongue, and though the edges are a little crunchy, it's perfect because of the love that went into it.

Misaki watches your reaction intently, their own tension melting away as you give them a thumbs-up. They grab a cookie, bite into it with a proud nod, as if they've conquered a mountain instead of narrowly avoiding a kitchen fire.

The next hour is spent sampling their creations, laughing at their chaotic designs and cleaning up the disaster they've left in their wake. By the time the last tray is stacked away, the kitchen is spotless, the air filled with the lingering scent of sugar, and your hearts are full.

Misaki pulls you into their arms one last time, their lips brushing against your temple as they whisper, "Thanks for not judging me too hard."

You laugh, burying your face in their chest. "Thanks for not burning the place down."

Their laughter joins yours, a sound so warm and genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through a storm. Surrounded by the remnants of their effort and the love that fills every corner of your shared space, you know that no matter how messy things get, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

#killer chat #gender neutral reader #x reader #fluff #killer chat misaki #misaki

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ggenocidial · 2 months ago

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Cant find x readers with misaki so im settling for ronin :(

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manikas-whims · 5 years ago

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hi manika i really like your new todomomo bodyguard fic. Are there any other ships that you love and write from? sorry just randomly asking tgis 😅

Omg anon, thank you so much. I'm not entirely sure about how readers will receive my todomomo bodyguard au but I'm glad you like it. 💛

Other than that, i have many ships in bnha: kacchako, KiriBaku, KiriMina, KamiJirou, JirouMomo, Aoyama x Deku, etc..

Basically everyone is so shippable in bnha 😆

But considering other shows/anime/series, here's my fav ships of all time:

SasuSaku (Naruto)

HitsuHina, GinRan (Bleach)

Gruvia, Jerza, Nalu, GaLe (Fairy Tail)

Vegeta X Bulma (DBZ)

Zeki (Vampire Knight)

Zenyuki (Akagami no Shirayukihime)

TodoMomo, Kacchako, KiriBaku (BNHA)

HanaNene, MitsuKou (JSHK)

Vmin (BTS)

Olicity (Arrow)

MariChat (Miraculous Ladybug)

Dramione, Neville X Luna (Harry Potter)

Queen Tara X General Ronin (Epic)

Kyoru, HaruRin (Fruits Basket)

Usui X Misaki (Kaichou-wa Maid-sama)

Akabane X Kurosaki (Defying Kurosaki-kun)

...and many, many more...💛

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elysiaheaven2 · 12 days ago

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To The New Year With Each Other- Killer Chat Ships Special!

Happy New Year! I hope Every One is Doing great! Sadly This is a Ship special not a x reader! Maybe next year jkjk (I'll do one for Ronin Maybe?)

My New Resolution- A day a death keeps the doctor away! (Ronin)

This post will contain the following Feluca, Ronin x Angel, Misaki x Angel, V x Ronin, Misaki x Ronin, V x Angel, V x Misaki

THESE ARE JUST RANDOM HEADCANONS I STILL NEED TO STUDY THEM! NO NEED TO FEEL LIKE IF THEY DON'T MATCH YOUR HEADCANONS!! DON'T READ IT'S OKAY!!

(V x Ronin) (Vulture)

An Uneasy Rivalry:

The rivalry between Ronin and V is explosive. They're opposite sides of the same coin, and while they despise each other, there's an undeniable tension between them that neither can ignore.

"You're nothing but a self-righteous little puppet trying to play hero." Ronin laughs, toying with the words as if savoring the taste of their absurdity.

"And you're just a monster, wallowing in your filth," V retorts coldly, his voice unwavering, though the glimmer of respect—albeit begrudging—flashes in his eyes.

A Dance of Death:

They don’t really like each other, but they love the dance. The tension, the wordplay, the challenge of trying to one-up each other—it’s intoxicating.

Ronin likes to toy with V, baiting him into making mistakes or showing cracks in his perfect, "moral" facade.

V, in turn, sees Ronin as a puzzle—a disgusting one—but a puzzle nonetheless. He’s determined to understand what makes the Devil tick, even if it disgusts him.

A Game of Wits and Power:

Ronin’s chaotic, devil-may-care attitude infuriates V, while V’s self-righteous, "holier than thou" persona grates on Ronin’s nerves. They play verbal and mental games with each other, each word like a calculated strike, each moment of silence a chance to assess the other’s weaknesses.

Ronin enjoys making V doubt himself, pushing him to break his stoic mask. "Oh, come on, V. You’re not really this perfect little hero you pretend to be, are you?"

V’s face is a mask of indifference, but his fists twitch. "I do what’s necessary. You’re too far gone to understand."

Mutual Understanding (Though They’ll Never Admit It):

Ronin and V are both driven by their own warped sense of justice and need for control. They recognize the other’s strengths, and even though they’ll never admit it aloud, there's an understanding between them—both believe they know what's best for the world.

"If only you could see the bigger picture. You think you're doing good, but you're just creating chaos," V scolds.

"Chaos? No, no, darling. I’m creating freedom," Ronin grins, "you should try it sometime."

A Deadly Attraction:

Their hatred is laced with something else—an unspoken, twisted admiration. In a way, they need each other. They fuel each other's obsessions, and in the dark corners of their minds, they know it.

"You’re just so desperate for approval, aren't you, V? So desperate to be the hero in your own little narrative." Ronin’s words sting, but they’re true.

V can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Ronin’s utter freedom in being who he is, no matter how vile. "I don't need your respect. What you do is despicable."

But in V's heart, a darker part of him realizes that Ronin's chaos is honest, even if it's ugly. V’s carefully controlled order will always clash with that, but part of him can’t stop finding it... thrilling.

The Kill That Will Never Happen (But Would Be Fun If It Did):

The idea of killing each other is always on the horizon, but neither will make the first move. The game is too fun, the challenge too seductive.

Ronin will poke at V’s moral compass, knowing how easily it can be twisted, and V will always come back with righteous fury. They are two sides of the same coin, too stubborn to break the cycle.

"You know, we really ought to kill each other," Ronin muses, "but I’m too curious to see where this goes."

"I agree," V responds, voice cold but tinged with a hint of respect. "You are the perfect villain."

Admiration Through Disdain:

They admire each other’s ability to stick to their beliefs, though they would never say it.

Ronin has a twisted sense of appreciation for how V holds onto his self-righteousness despite everything. It’s a kind of purity, in its own demented way.

V is begrudgingly impressed by Ronin’s unrelenting chaos and how he never wavers. For all his evil, there’s a certain power in Ronin’s ability to never apologize, never back down.

The Reason to Think Shit

Beneath the bickering and violence, there’s an unspoken bond between them. Both are broken in their own ways, and they can’t quite let go of the other. Whether they admit it or not, they need each other to exist as they are. Without Ronin, V would lose the villain to his hero. Without V, Ronin would lose his perfect foil.

"I’m the only one who understands you," Ronin says one night, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

V stares at him, a rare moment of uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Don’t flatter yourself."

The Fight That Will Never End:

They will never stop fighting, never stop pushing against each other. Whether it’s in a physical confrontation or a battle of words, they are bound to keep clashing.

But deep down, the fight isn’t just about who’s right—it’s about who can break the other first, and in that game, they both know it’s all about who can hold on the longest.

Ronin x V Falling in Love Headcanons

Reluctant Beginnings:

At first, falling for each other seems impossible. They are so fundamentally different that it’s hard to see how they could ever work together. Ronin is chaotic and thrives on destruction, while V is obsessed with order and justice. They are enemies in every sense, constantly clashing over philosophy, motives, and methods.

But underneath all the hate and rivalry, there’s an undeniable tension. The challenge they present to each other is intoxicating, and as much as they want to destroy each other, they both feel an odd fascination with the other’s strength and conviction.

The First Spark:

It starts with moments of unexpected understanding. In the midst of their violent confrontations, Ronin will occasionally say something that gets under V’s skin—not in a malicious way, but in a way that makes him stop and think, just for a second.

V, ever the stoic, tries to dismiss it, but a part of him can’t. "You do have a point, don't you?" He won’t admit it, of course. But the seed is planted.

For Ronin, the first spark comes when he sees V doing something human. V rarely lets anyone close, but when Ronin catches a rare glimpse of vulnerability in him—a tired sigh after a battle, a flicker of emotion after a tough decision—he’s intrigued. For the first time, Ronin realizes that V isn’t just a hero to be destroyed. He’s a puzzle that’s impossible to ignore.

An Unspoken Connection:

Their dynamic becomes something more than just enemies. It’s not love yet, but the foundation is there. They begin to understand each other on a level that goes beyond rivalry. Ronin toys with V’s sense of justice, mocking him when he gets too self-righteous, but there’s something almost admiring in the way he does it.

V, on the other hand, grows to respect Ronin’s unwavering confidence and ability to push boundaries. The Devil does what he wants, regardless of the consequences, and V can’t help but feel drawn to that kind of freedom—something he wishes he could embrace more fully.

The Realization:

V is the first to notice the shift, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Ronin, ever the provocateur, plays on this, taunting V by calling him a hypocrite for trying to deny the obvious. "You hate me, don’t you? Or is that just a game? Let me know, hero. I don’t mind playing whatever role you want me to."

V tries to stay focused on his mission, but the more time he spends with Ronin, the more his feelings complicate. He can’t figure out why he feels drawn to this chaotic force of nature—this monster. But something about Ronin’s raw, unapologetic self begins to eat away at the walls V has carefully built around himself.

Testing Boundaries:

They both start testing boundaries—sometimes it’s verbal sparring, sometimes physical. Ronin loves to get under V’s skin, pushing him to the edge, making him question everything he thought he knew about his own principles. V responds with the same sharpness, never backing down from Ronin’s jabs, but inside, something is shifting. He’s tired of being alone in his idealism, and maybe, just maybe, Ronin isn’t as lost as he seems.

They can’t stay away from each other for too long. Every time they try to, something pulls them back. It’s not just hatred anymore. It’s something deeper—something both of them refuse to admit but can’t deny.

The Kiss (or the First Moment of Intimacy):

The first time they cross that line, it’s more intense than either could have imagined. There’s no buildup, no romance—just raw, unfiltered emotion. They’ve fought, they’ve argued, they’ve bled together in some way, and in a moment of frustration, they collide.

V pushes Ronin against a wall, furious at him for provoking him one too many times. Ronin smirks, undeterred. "You can’t help yourself, can you, hero?"

And then it happens. A kiss—rough, hungry, and filled with years of tension. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s violent and desperate, as if they both need to prove something to the other—and to themselves.

The world around them disappears, leaving only the overwhelming heat between them. Neither of them knows exactly how to handle it, but neither pulls away.

The Push and Pull:

After the kiss, things are... complicated. Neither can handle the vulnerability of what just happened, and they both try to push each other away. Ronin makes cruel jokes, pretending it meant nothing, but the truth is, he’s addicted to the taste of V’s lips. He wants more of that intensity, that fire.

V withdraws emotionally, too, pushing his feelings down. But it doesn’t work. He keeps coming back to Ronin, and with every encounter, the bond deepens. It’s not love in the traditional sense—they’re too broken for that. But it’s obsession, it’s need, it’s a twisted form of love they can’t escape.

Falling Hard:

V falls hard, and when he does, it’s terrifying. He doesn’t know how to love this man who has no morals, no boundaries. Ronin is a force of chaos, and V is desperately trying to hold onto some form of order.

But he’s drawn to it—the chaos, the danger, the fire in Ronin’s eyes when he’s doing what he does best. For all his righteous ideals, V can’t ignore the fact that Ronin makes him feel alive in a way no one else ever has.

Ronin’s Obsession:

Ronin, for all his talk of chaos and freedom, falls in his own twisted way. He becomes obsessed with V, not just as an adversary, but as something more. Ronin has never been good at admitting his emotions, and his way of showing affection is... unconventional.

He’ll provoke V just to get a reaction, and when he gets it, there’s a dark satisfaction in seeing that the hero can’t stay detached. He loves making V lose control—because when he does, it means he’s made a real impact.

The Complicated Relationship:

Their love is nothing like what anyone would consider healthy. It’s a dance of power, control, and violence—a reflection of everything that makes them who they are. It’s not easy, it’s not sweet, but it’s real in its own twisted way.

They still fight, they still disagree, and they still push each other to the brink. But when the dust settles, when the fight is over, there’s a raw, unspoken bond between them. They may be enemies, but they’re each other’s, and that’s the one thing they can’t deny.

Acceptance (But Not Really):

Neither Ronin nor V can fully accept their feelings. They’re both too proud, too broken, to admit what they’ve become. But they understand each other better than anyone else. In their own messed-up way, they complete each other—two sides of the same coin. And that, in the end, is the most dangerous thing about them both.

Ronin x V New Year Special: A Year of Chaos and Change

One-shot

The cold winter air bit at the edges of the city, swirling around the streets with the promise of a new year. People bustled about, preparing for the celebrations that would mark the end of this chaotic chapter and the beginning of another. The lights of the city were bright—almost blinding—but no amount of holiday cheer could obscure the tension between two men at the heart of it all.

Ronin stood in the shadows of a rooftop, watching the fireworks in the distance, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no plans for the evening—none of that was ever his style—but the fact that V was out there, in the thick of the celebrations, made this particular night feel different.

It was the start of something.

V, on the other hand, stood at the opposite end of the city, his eyes scanning the skyline as he prepared for another long night. A vigilante’s work never ended, not even for the promise of a fresh start. But as the hours ticked closer to midnight, he found his thoughts drifting. Not tonight. Just tonight, maybe I can let go of the weight.

But Ronin had other ideas.

V had just finished dealing with a minor criminal when a figure appeared on the rooftop of the building he’d been surveilling. V’s sharp eyes flicked over, recognizing the familiar silhouette.

“Ronin.” V’s voice was a low growl, laced with irritation, but it had a tinge of something else too—something he wasn’t quite willing to admit.

Ronin’s grin stretched wide. “You look like you’re trying to be a hero again. Is that still your thing?” His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, one that wasn’t lost on V.

The vigilante sighed, crossing his arms. “I’ve never stopped being a hero. You wouldn’t understand.” His words held a challenge, daring Ronin to take the bait.

Ronin tilted his head, stepping closer, his boots making soft sounds against the gravel roof. “You know, for someone who pretends to be so morally upstanding, you’re awfully predictable.”

V’s gaze sharpened. “And you’re impossible. A fucking nightmare wrapped in violence.”

“A nightmare, huh?” Ronin laughed darkly. “Maybe you like nightmares, V. Maybe you like the chaos more than you admit.”

V’s lips tightened. “I’m here for..”

Ronin stepped into V’s personal space, his breath hot against the cold night air. “Justice? You’re so fucking naive. You kill to fix things, and I kill because I can. We both love to end lives. The difference is, I embrace it, and you pretend it’s something else.”

V clenched his fists but held his ground. He could feel the old tension rising between them, the same push and pull that had existed since their first encounter. A rivalry that was equal parts hatred and something far more complex.

The moment stretched, then Ronin broke it, his voice low but filled with an uncharacteristic sincerity. “Happy New Year, hero.”

V blinked, thrown off by the unexpected gesture. “You don’t mean it.”

“Of course, I do.” Ronin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re still here, still alive. That’s worth something, right?”

V narrowed his eyes. “What’s your game, Ronin?”

Ronin’s grin grew wider. “No game, just… a bit of celebration. You know how to handle chaos better than most. You’ve gotten under my skin, hero. And for that… thank you.”

V’s expression softened for a moment before he caught himself. “Don’t mistake me for someone who cares about your twisted gratitude.”

But deep down, he couldn’t deny that there was something in Ronin’s words—something real, and it unsettled him.

“I won’t,” Ronin replied smoothly, stepping back with a flick of his wrist. “But you do care, V. You care about what I do. About what I am.”

V shook his head. “I don’t. I’ve told you before—your kind is nothing but a monster.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ronin’s voice lowered, dangerous. “I’m not a monster, V. I’m just�� different.”

V’s breath hitched, and the weight of the unspoken words between them seemed to fill the space. The city continued to pulse beneath them, unaware of the fragile tension building in the night air. As midnight neared, neither of them spoke for a long moment.

Finally, V exhaled and turned to face the skyline, the fireworks starting to go off in the distance. “Maybe you’re right about one thing,” he muttered. “We’re both… something else.”

Ronin’s lips curled in a grin as he stepped up beside him. “Good. Then maybe this year, we’ll figure out what that something is.”

V glanced at him, his usual scowl replaced with something else, something vulnerable that he quickly concealed. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Too late,” Ronin’s voice was playful, but there was a glint in his eyes—a promise of more chaos to come.

Ronin x V New Year Special: Headcanons

Shared Unspoken Bond:

As much as they try to fight it, there’s something between them that neither can fully deny. Ronin finds V fascinating—his strict code of justice, his persistence, and his unwillingness to compromise. V, in turn, is drawn to Ronin’s chaotic freedom, the raw passion behind everything he does, even if he won’t admit it.

The First Meeting of the New Year:

While Ronin prefers to revel in chaos, and V might prefer to stick to his vigilante duties, the two men find themselves crossing paths every year on New Year’s Eve. V watches the fireworks from a rooftop, waiting for criminals to slip up, while Ronin watches for the thrill of the night’s chaos. Neither of them cares about tradition, but they can’t resist the pull of their shared history.

A Test of Boundaries:

When they come face-to-face, neither of them admits the true nature of their feelings. The teasing, the jabs, the biting insults—they mask something far more complex. They push each other to the limits, testing how much the other can handle before it all unravels.

Unlikely Confessions:

Ronin, in his usual unpredictable fashion, might not admit to being attracted to V at first. He loves watching V squirm, seeing the tension between them. But as time goes on, he starts to realize that there’s something deeper beneath his teasing—a genuine pull toward V’s strength, his ideals, and his unyielding spirit.

V, on the other hand, refuses to acknowledge his growing feelings. He convinces himself that Ronin is simply an obstacle, a nuisance. But the truth is, the chaos that Ronin brings stirs something in him that no one else does. He’s not indifferent to him, but admitting it is dangerous.

The Call of Midnight:

The midnight hour is always a turning point for them. They stand side-by-side, knowing that no matter how many years pass, the conflict between them will never end. And yet, they understand each other in ways no one else does.

V’s Internal Struggle:

V tries to convince himself that his obsession with Ronin is purely professional. He sees Ronin as a dangerous monster, someone who needs to be destroyed for the greater good. But every time they interact, the line blurs a little more, and he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to walk the line with him.

Ronin’s Game:

Ronin loves to test V’s limits. It’s never about winning—he doesn’t care about that. It’s about the chase, the unpredictability. As the year progresses, he’ll become more relentless, pushing V into situations where the only option is to fight, to act, to confront the twisted connection they both share.

A Year of Uncertainty:

The year to come is full of uncertainty for both of them. They may be enemies, but something about the dance they share keeps them coming back for more. Neither of them knows where it’ll lead, but it’s clear they’ll be wrapped up in each other’s fates, whether they like it or not.

New Year's Eve Tradition:

They may never admit it out loud, but the New Year’s Eve rendezvous has become a tradition—a dangerous, chaotic one—but a tradition nonetheless. And as much as V hates to admit it, part of him looks forward to it each year. It’s their time, their twisted connection, and no one can take that away from them.

V x Angel Headcanons

Mutual Respect:

Despite their differences, V and Angel share a deep respect for each other. V admires Angel's poise and kindness, even if he finds her perfectionism exhausting at times. Angel appreciates V’s unwavering sense of justice, even if she wishes he wouldn’t isolate himself so much.

Understanding Through Silence:

Their friendship thrives in quiet moments. They’re not the type to have long, deep conversations, but they can sit in companionable silence, understanding each other’s presence without the need for words.

Opposite Communication Styles:

Angel’s tendency to apologize profusely contrasts with V’s blunt and curt responses. While it frustrates her initially, she learns to interpret his silences and minimal reactions as his way of showing he’s listening.

Shared Mission:

They’re united by their shared goal of stopping abusers and predators. Angel admires V’s precision and efficiency, while V acknowledges Angel’s compassion, even if he doesn’t express it outright.

Angel’s Gentle Push:

Angel tries, cautiously, to get V to open up more. She doesn’t push too hard—she’s afraid of overstepping—but she’ll ask him small questions about his day or his work, hoping to make him feel less alone.

V’s Quiet Gratitude:

V is terrible at expressing emotions, but he genuinely appreciates Angel’s efforts to include him. He might grumble about her persistence, but deep down, her kindness means more to him than he lets on.

Unlikely Allies:

When they work together, it’s an effective partnership. Angel’s charm and ability to blend in make her an excellent scout, while V’s tactical mind ensures their targets never see them coming.

Angel’s Influence:

Angel subtly challenges V’s worldview. She encourages him to see the humanity in people, even if she herself struggles with the same thing. Her belief that people can change—even just a little—rubs off on him over time.

V’s Guarded Concern:

While V keeps his distance, he’s quietly protective of Angel. If he ever suspects she’s in danger, he won’t hesitate to intervene, even if she insists she doesn’t need his help.

Angel’s Balancing Act:

Angel wishes she could bridge the gap between V and Ronin, but she knows better than to try. Instead, she acts as a neutral party, listening to each of them vent about the other without taking sides.

A Shared Burden:

Though they don’t talk about it often, Angel and V both struggle with guilt over the lives they’ve taken. It’s an unspoken bond between them, one they occasionally acknowledge with a simple nod or a shared glance.

Angel’s Soft Rebellion:

Angel sometimes teases V gently, trying to draw a rare smile or laugh out of him. It rarely works, but when it does, she treasures those moments as victories.

V’s Quiet Reassurance:

V doesn’t know how to comfort people, but when Angel is struggling, he’ll sit with her in silence or subtly nudge her toward focusing on her goals. His support is understated but genuine.

Unlikely Confidants:

While their friendship is distant, there are moments when V opens up to Angel about things he wouldn’t share with anyone else. Her nonjudgmental nature makes her a safe space for his rare vulnerabilities.

The Bridge Between Two Worlds:

Angel often feels like a mediator between V and Ronin, understanding both their perspectives without fully agreeing with either. She secretly wishes they could find common ground, but she’s too afraid to voice it aloud.

Late-Night Conversations:

Sometimes, after a difficult night, Angel will call V just to make sure he’s okay. V doesn’t always answer, but when he does, their conversations are short and to the point, yet comforting in their simplicity.

Angel’s Hope for V:

Angel wants V to find happiness, even if he insists it’s not something he’s looking for. She sees glimpses of it in his quieter moments and quietly hopes he’ll allow himself to feel it more often.

An Unlikely Love:

Though their dynamic isn’t the closest, there’s a mutual understanding that neither of them would trade. They respect each other’s boundaries, even as Angel secretly wishes V would let her in just a little more.

V x Angel New Year’s One-Shot

The distant sound of fireworks echoed through the city as Angel leaned against the edge of the rooftop, her breath forming soft clouds in the chilly night air. She tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders, the shimmer of her sequined dress catching the faint moonlight.

"You know," she said, glancing over her shoulder, "New Year's is supposed to be a time for celebration. Even you can’t scowl your way through that."

Behind her, V stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, his usual dark attire making him blend into the night. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "I’m not scowling."

Angel chuckled, turning back to look at the skyline. The city sparkled below them, alive with lights and movement. "Could’ve fooled me. You look like someone canceled all the holidays at once."

Silence stretched between them, but Angel didn’t mind. She was used to V’s quiet nature. If anything, she found it comforting, a sharp contrast to the chaos of her usual life.

"You shouldn’t be here," V finally said, his voice low. "This city is dangerous on nights like these. People get reckless."

Angel rolled her eyes, turning to face him fully. "V, we’re the reckless ones. You really think I’m scared of some drunk New Year’s revelers?"

His lips quirked ever so slightly, the barest hint of amusement flashing in his dark eyes. "Point taken."

The faint pop of fireworks drew their attention back to the sky. A burst of gold and blue lit up the horizon, reflecting in Angel’s wide eyes. She sighed softly, leaning against the railing.

"It’s beautiful," she murmured.

V didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her instead of the fireworks. "It is," he said quietly, though he wasn’t looking at the sky.

Angel caught the tone of his voice and turned to him, her smile softening. "You’re allowed to enjoy moments like this, you know. You don’t always have to be so serious."

V hesitated, his usual stoicism faltering under her gentle gaze. "I’m not sure I know how."

"Start small," she suggested, her voice light and teasing. "Try smiling. Or, I don’t know, say something nice about the fireworks."

He exhaled sharply, a sound that might have been a laugh if it had come from anyone else. "The fireworks are adequate."

Angel laughed, the sound ringing out like a melody. "Well, it’s a start."

The clock tower in the distance began to chime, signaling the final countdown to midnight. Angel straightened, a playful glint in her eye.

"Ten seconds to the new year," she said, holding out her hand to him. "What do you say, V? New year, new you?"

He looked at her outstretched hand, his brow furrowing slightly. But then, to her surprise, he took it, his grip firm and steady.

"I’ll consider it," he said, his voice softer than usual.

The final chime rang out and the city erupted in cheers and fireworks, Angel squeezed his hand lightly. For a moment, amidst the noise and chaos, they stood together in silence, their presence enough to ground each other.

"Happy New Year, V," Angel said, her voice warm.

"Happy New Year, Angel," he replied, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.

V x Angel New Year Headcanons

Angel’s Optimism:

Angel views New Year’s as a time for fresh starts and new opportunities. She encourages V to embrace the idea, though he remains skeptical.

V’s Reluctance:

V isn’t one for celebrations, but he respects Angel enough to show up when she invites him. He may grumble about the frivolity, but he secretly doesn’t mind spending time with her.

Fireworks and Quiet Moments:

Angel loves the fireworks, finding beauty and hope in the vibrant displays. V prefers watching her reaction, finding her joy more captivating than the lights.

Angel’s Gentle Push:

Angel uses the New Year as an excuse to nudge V out of his comfort zone. She encourages him to make small changes, even if it’s something as simple as relaxing for one evening.

A Shared Understanding:

Despite their differences, Angel and V find common ground in their quiet appreciation of the moment. They don’t need grand gestures or elaborate plans to enjoy each other’s company.

Angel’s Playful Nature:

Angel teases V about his seriousness, trying to coax a smile or laugh out of him. He rarely indulges her, but the rare moments when he does are special to her.

V’s Subtle Affection:

V shows his appreciation for Angel in small, understated ways. Whether it’s offering her his coat when she’s cold or simply being present when she needs support, his actions speak louder than words.

A Tradition in the Making:

Over time, New Year’s becomes a quiet tradition for the two of them. It’s not something they plan; it just happens naturally, a shared moment of reflection and connection.

Angel’s Hopes for V:

Angel secretly wishes V would let himself enjoy life more, even if it’s just in small ways. She doesn’t push him too hard, but she never stops hoping.

V’s Inner Conflict:

V struggles with the idea of letting his guard down, even around Angel. But on nights like New Year’s, he allows himself a rare moment of peace, if only for her sake.

Angel x Misaki Headcanons:

The Comfort Zone: Misaki and Angel are an adorable duo when it comes to being emotional support for each other. Misaki, ever the anxious one, often seeks Angel’s comfort after a rough day. Angel, though busy with her career, drops everything when Misaki needs her, offering warm words, a soft smile, or simply a cuddly silence while Misaki talks about their fears or frustrations. Misaki loves running to Angel for safety, especially when her insecurities start creeping up on her.

Gifts of Affection: Misaki’s love language is giving small, handmade gifts or little trinkets that remind them of Angel. Sometimes it’s a simple bracelet with their favorite color or a cute keychain with a little inside joke they share. Angel, always feeling the need for validation, loves these tokens—though she might hide the deeper emotion behind a smile, it's clear she treasures them. They always make sure to trade gifts, often stealing each other's clothes in a playful exchange. "Wear this, and I’ll steal it back when I’m feeling needy!" Angel teases with a wink.

Caring for Each Other: Misaki is always by Angel’s side when she’s feeling off. Whether Angel has had a tough shoot or an online criticism makes her second-guess her worth, Misaki is ready to pull her away from the world’s harshness. They’ll put on a favorite movie, grab some snacks, and simply let Angel lean into them for comfort. Misaki knows exactly how to make Angel smile, and even if it’s not a perfect solution, it’s enough to make Angel feel cared for.

Flirty Yet Insecure: Misaki flirts with Angel all the time, but beneath their playful demeanor is an ocean of insecurity. Misaki is afraid Angel will find someone else, someone better—because they believe they’re not good enough. Angel, on the other hand, constantly reassures Misaki with sweet, affectionate words and gestures, even though Angel’s need for attention sometimes masks her deeper feelings. "You think I could love anyone else?" Angel will ask with a smirk, but her eyes are always sincere when she adds, "You're all I need."

Unspoken Trust: There’s a quiet understanding between them. Angel trusts Misaki with her deepest secrets, including her darker, more complicated emotions about Ronin. Misaki knows Angel better than anyone else, even if they hide their own emotional turmoil. They both recognize that vulnerability is rare between them, but when it happens, it’s special. Misaki holds Angel’s hand in those quiet moments and whispers, “I’m here. Always.” Angel, despite her own pride, can’t help but lean into that security.

The Little Things Matter: Despite Angel’s fame and perfectionism, she loves the small, everyday moments with Misaki. Whether it's just making breakfast together, watching the rain through the window, or lying in bed talking about their futures, these little moments mean more to her than any praise from her fans. Misaki’s presence is like a warm blanket, covering up the emptiness Angel sometimes feels from the constant need for perfection. Angel also loves when Misaki randomly sends her emojis like "⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡," even when they’re just checking in or sending a meme.

Playful Rivalry: Though they’re close, there’s a teasing rivalry between them. Misaki has a mischievous side, and Angel knows how to push their buttons. They’ll flirt outrageously with each other, trying to one-up the other in sweet, playful ways. Angel will send Misaki a seductive text or video, then Misaki will send an even wilder response. “You really think that’s gonna win me over?” Misaki will laugh, only to be met with Angel’s charismatic wink, "Just wait until you see the next one."

The Struggle for Perfection: Angel pushes herself to be flawless, but she’s not alone in her self-destructive pursuit. Misaki, a perfectionist in their own right, tries to reassure Angel that it’s okay to fall short sometimes. It frustrates Misaki that they can’t protect Angel from all the pressure she puts on herself, but Misaki will always be there when things get too overwhelming, offering support when Angel feels like she’s failing. “You’re perfect to me,” Misaki will say, hoping Angel believes them.

Loyalty Bound by Secrets: Despite Angel’s wavering stance between Ronin and V, her loyalty to Misaki never wavers. Misaki knows that Angel will stand by them through thick and thin. If anyone ever hurt Angel or tried to pull her away from them, Misaki would shut that person down without hesitation, even if Angel tried to mask her hurt with a smile. "You're mine, Angel, and anyone who thinks otherwise is gonna have to deal with me."

Physical Touch is Comfort: Misaki isn’t the best with words when it comes to affection, but their touch speaks volumes. Whether it's holding Angel's hand in public or playing with her hair when they're alone, Misaki’s gestures are filled with love. Angel, often needing attention and affection, can’t help but feel incredibly loved when Misaki touches her in small, intimate ways—without any pressure or expectations. These quiet acts of love are Misaki’s way of saying “I love you” without speaking it aloud.

Angel x Misaki New Year Oneshot!

It was New Year's Eve, and the city was buzzing with energy, lights flashing as people rushed to make the most of their last night of the year. But for Angel and Misaki, the world outside felt so far away. They had decided to skip the crowded parties, the glamour of flashing cameras and celebrity faces, in favor of a quiet night together.

The apartment was cozy, lit by string lights that twinkled around the living room. A low hum of music played softly in the background, something nostalgic and calming. Misaki was sprawled out on the couch, her legs tangled in a fluffy blanket, tapping away at her phone with a grin.

Angel, sitting next to her, leaned in to peek at what she was doing. "What are you up to now?" she asked, her voice playful.

Misaki glanced up with a wink. "Just sending you the best New Year's message ever. Can’t let anyone else be the first to wish you a happy new year, right?"

Angel raised an eyebrow but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "I’m sure no one else will top whatever it is you’re sending me."

Misaki clicked send, then turned to Angel with an exaggerated pout. "You’ll see. It’s gonna be perfect."

Angel leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, one that lingered a little longer than usual. When they pulled away, Angel’s hand found Misaki’s, gently intertwining their fingers. "You’re perfect," Angel murmured, her voice full of sincerity.

Misaki blushed, their usually bold demeanor softening around Angel’s quiet affection. "Not as perfect as you," they teased, though it didn’t come out with the usual mischievous edge. There was a warmth in their gaze that Angel was very familiar with—a softness that Misaki reserved for the moments when it was just the two of them.

The clock ticked down, the final minutes of the year slipping away. Angel leaned against Misaki, her head resting on their shoulder as the final seconds of the year approached. She felt a small, nervous flutter in her chest. The year had been hard in many ways, filled with doubt, stress, and exhaustion. But as she sat here with Misaki, a strange sense of peace settled over her. In this moment, everything felt perfect.

"Happy New Year, Angel," Misaki whispered just as the countdown began.

Angel smiled softly, eyes locked with theirs. "Happy New Year, Misaki," she responded, her voice full of love.

When the clock struck midnight, the city erupted in cheers and fireworks, but for a moment, everything outside faded into the background. It was just them, together in the quiet of their shared space, hearts full, as they embraced each other in a kiss that marked the beginning of a new year—a year they would face side by side.

Angel x Misaki Headcanons New Year!:

New Year's Tradition: Every year, Angel and Misaki spend New Year’s Eve together, away from the cameras and fame. Their ritual is simple: a cozy night in with food they make together (mostly just ramen or snacks, but it’s perfect for them), some casual gaming, and a midnight kiss. It’s their way of resetting, a quiet moment to reflect on the year behind them and their bond.

Misaki’s Midnight Surprise: Misaki loves to plan little surprises for Angel at New Year’s. This year, they planned a scavenger hunt around the apartment, leaving clues that led Angel to small, thoughtful gifts: a charm bracelet with a charm for each important memory they shared, a notebook for Angel to write in, and even a framed picture of the two of them laughing together.

Emotional Support: Misaki, while usually playful, is extremely in tune with Angel’s emotions, especially at the turn of the year. They know Angel’s insecurities flare up, especially when the pressure of her career becomes overwhelming. Misaki makes sure to be especially gentle and caring, holding her close and assuring her that she’s loved, no matter what.

Their Future Together:

While Misaki struggles with their own insecurities, they have big dreams for the future. They imagine a life where they don’t have to hide their relationship or be concerned about outside pressures. They talk about moving somewhere quiet, just the two of them, away from the chaos of the world. Angel listens, her heart swelling with the hope that one day, they’ll make it happen.

Compliment Wars:

Despite their deep love for each other, Misaki and Angel love to tease each other with compliment wars. They’ll compete over who can outdo the other with praise, sometimes getting playful and ridiculous. "You’re so beautiful, you make stars jealous," Angel will say, only for Misaki to counter, "Oh yeah? Well, I think you’re so amazing, even the sun is intimidated."

The Love for Sharing:

Despite Angel’s career and public persona, she loves moments where she can just be herself around Misaki—no expectations, no roles to play. They’ll spend hours sharing their favorite shows or movies, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Misaki loves stealing Angel’s clothes and wearing them, but it’s also a way of feeling close to her, especially when they’re not physically together.

Misaki's Deep Care:

Though Misaki hides behind a carefree and chaotic front, their love for Angel runs deep. They show this through small, everyday actions—making sure Angel eats when she forgets to, sending her cute texts when she’s having a rough day, and being there to listen when Angel wants to talk about her deepest fears. Misaki doesn't express this love in words often, but it's always felt in everything they do.

Angel’s Self-Reflection:

Angel is the type to reflect on her growth, especially at the start of a new year. Misaki helps her do this by pointing out all the small victories she’s had—whether it’s overcoming personal doubts, helping a friend, or making strides in her career. Misaki's support is invaluable to Angel, who sometimes forgets how much she has accomplished.

Shared Laughter:

The two of them often share inside jokes that no one else would understand. It could be something random, like a meme they found, a funny moment from their past, or even something ridiculous that Misaki said that made Angel laugh uncontrollably. This shared humor is their secret glue, keeping their relationship light even when things get heavy.

Sparks for the New Year

The year unfolds, Angel and Misaki’s relationship continues to grow stronger. They may have their ups and downs, but each New Year’s Eve, as they look back at the year together, they realize just how far they’ve come. With each passing year, they continue to find more ways to love each other, more ways to build on the trust and passion they share.

Misaki x V Headcanons

Chaos Meets Order:

Misaki’s chaotic energy constantly clashes with V’s no-nonsense demeanor, but instead of driving them apart, it creates a weird balance. Misaki thrives on teasing V, pulling him into ridiculous antics just to get a rise out of him. Whether it’s putting googly eyes on his meticulously organized tools or calling him silly nicknames like “Mister Seriousface,” Misaki’s antics eventually draw out rare, reluctant smirks—or even a suppressed laugh—before V sternly tells them to “focus.”

Annoyance as a Love Language:

Misaki loves pushing V’s buttons, not out of malice but because they secretly adore how easily flustered he can get. V, who prides himself on being composed, finds it difficult to hide his irritation when Misaki starts poking fun at his literal-mindedness or drops one of their chaotic jokes. Despite himself, he’s occasionally caught off guard and lets out a dry chuckle, which Misaki immediately declares a victory.

Gift-Giving and Overthinking:

Misaki’s small, thoughtful gifts baffle V at first. He doesn’t know how to react when they give him handmade trinkets or oddly specific gadgets they thought he’d find useful. “Why would you waste your time on this?” he asks, but his tone is more confused than harsh. Secretly, though, he keeps every single thing they give him, storing them neatly in a drawer that Misaki inevitably discovers and teases him about.

Comfort in the Chaos:

Misaki becomes V’s comfort in ways neither of them expect. After a particularly hard mission, V finds himself tolerating Misaki’s spontaneous cartoon marathons or random chatter because it pulls him out of his head. He doesn’t say much, but his presence is heavy with unspoken gratitude. Misaki, ever perceptive, knows exactly when to back off and when to keep talking, instinctively finding the balance V needs.

The Clothes Exchange War:

Misaki starts the tradition by stealing one of V’s perfectly tailored coats, dramatically spinning in it like a kid trying on their parent’s clothes. V raises an eyebrow but doesn’t stop them. Later, V quietly takes one of Misaki’s oversized hoodies, citing practical reasons: “It’s comfortable.” Misaki sees right through him and makes a big deal out of it, grinning wildly. The cycle continues until both their wardrobes are hopelessly mixed.

Literal vs. Silly:

Misaki adores dropping completely nonsensical brainrot just to see how long it takes V to catch on. “Do you think pigeons have a secret society, or are they just vibing?” they ask one night. V’s deadpan response is a meticulous breakdown of why pigeons couldn’t possibly maintain an organized society, which makes Misaki burst into laughter. “You’re so fun to mess with,” they giggle, and V just shakes his head, muttering something about wasting time.

V’s Rare Humor:

Though he tries to maintain his serious image, Misaki has a way of coaxing humor out of V when no one else can. They catch him off guard with their over-the-top antics, like dramatically reenacting a mission or joking about “assassin life problems.” The first time V laughs out loud, Misaki freezes in shock, then immediately declares it their life’s mission to make him laugh more often.

Mutual Understanding:

Beneath the teasing and banter, they share a mutual understanding of the weight they each carry. V recognizes Misaki’s anxiety and low self-esteem, even when they try to hide it behind flirtation and chaos. He doesn’t pry but offers quiet reassurance through his actions, like methodically fixing something they’ve broken or simply being there when they need to vent. Misaki, in turn, recognizes how V isolates himself and works to chip away at his walls, one ridiculous joke at a time.

Annoyance Evolves into Affection:

At first, V tries to dismiss Misaki’s constant needling as a childish distraction, but over time, he finds himself seeking out their presence. Their energy, while overwhelming at times, becomes something he looks forward to—something that reminds him there’s more to life than endless missions and moral dilemmas. Misaki, for their part, loves dragging V into their chaotic world, secretly cherishing the moments when his guarded expression softens.

Their Own Kind of Teamwork:

Despite their vastly different personalities, V and Misaki make an unexpectedly effective team. Misaki’s spontaneity balances V’s meticulous planning, and V’s precision reins in Misaki’s impulsiveness. They bicker endlessly about strategy—Misaki always wanting to improvise, V insisting on structure—but in the heat of the moment, they move seamlessly, their trust in each other unspoken but absolute.

The Quiet Nights:

On rare nights when neither of them has work, Misaki will pull V into watching cartoons or playing silly games, while V sits beside them with a book or meticulously cleans a weapon. Misaki constantly glances over, waiting for him to crack a smile at something ridiculous on screen. When he finally does, Misaki rests their head on his shoulder with a satisfied grin, whispering, “Knew you’d like it.” V doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t pull away either.

V x Misaki New Year Headcanons

Misaki's Chaotic Countdown Plans:

Misaki insists on doing something “unforgettable” for New Year’s Eve, dragging V to several events in one night. Think rooftop parties, impromptu fireworks at questionable locations, and an unscheduled stop at a late-night arcade to “beat the high score before the year ends.”

V's Subtle Excitement:

While V prefers quiet reflection over raucous celebrations, he secretly looks forward to how Misaki will spice up the night. He won’t admit it, but the unpredictability of Misaki’s plans brings a spark of excitement he rarely experiences.

Matching Accessories:

Misaki sneaks in a “couples’ tradition,” surprising V with matching New Year’s-themed pins or bracelets. V grumbles about the frivolity but still wears it the entire night. Misaki catches him adjusting the pin later, hiding a smirk.

Fireworks and Reflections:

Misaki is all about making loud resolutions while fireworks burst in the background. Meanwhile, V quietly reflects on the year, his gaze softening when he looks at Misaki. He doesn’t make resolutions out loud, but in his heart, his goal is simple: to protect and cherish Misaki.

Shared Midnight Moment:

As the clock strikes midnight, Misaki yells “Happy New Year!” at the top of their lungs, pulling V into a spontaneous kiss. V stiffens initially but quickly relaxes, holding them tightly as fireworks explode in the distance.

V x Misaki New Year Oneshot

The streets were alive with the hum of New Year’s Eve energy: neon lights bouncing off damp pavement, the smell of roasted chestnuts mixing with distant bursts of gunpowder from early fireworks. Misaki, bundled up in a scarf two sizes too big, tugged at V’s gloved hand.

“Come on, V! We’re gonna miss the good fireworks if you keep walking like a tired grandpa.” Misaki’s voice bubbled with excitement, their feet practically skipping over the cobblestones.

“I’m not walking like a grandpa,” V deadpanned, his voice calm as always. “I’m walking cautiously. Which you should consider, given the ice.”

Misaki laughed, spinning around to face him, nearly tripping in the process. V’s quick reflexes steadied them with a firm grip on their elbow. “See? Always the hero,” Misaki teased, flashing him a grin that made his chest ache in ways he didn’t quite understand yet.

“Someone has to keep you upright,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smirk.

The two finally reached the park’s hilltop, where a small crowd had gathered for the midnight fireworks display. Misaki pulled out a thermos of hot cocoa from their bag, handing it to V with a triumphant flourish.

“Prepared, as always,” they said, winking.

V accepted it with a quiet “thank you,” sipping the warm drink as Misaki flitted around, chattering about resolutions they’d probably forget by February.

“I’m gonna learn a new language! Oh, and cook more! And maybe—oh, we should adopt a stray dog together! That’d be cute, right?”

“You don’t even feed yourself properly,” V pointed out, but there was no bite in his tone.

“Exactly why I need you to balance me out,” Misaki shot back, their eyes sparkling. “You’re like…my stability guru or something.”

As the final minutes of the year ticked away, Misaki leaned against V, their chaotic energy finally quieting. “You know, you’re kinda my favorite thing about this year,” they said softly, almost shyly.

V glanced down, surprised by the vulnerability in their voice. “You’re important to me too,” he admitted, his voice low but steady.

The crowd began counting down. Ten. Nine. Eight. Misaki grabbed his hand again, their fingers intertwining.

“Three…two…”

It was clumsy and full of mismatched energy, but V found himself leaning into it, his other hand sliding to rest on their waist. The fireworks exploded above them, painting the night sky in bursts of gold and silver.

When they finally broke apart, Misaki beamed up at him. “Happy New Year, Vigilante.”

V shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Happy New Year, Misaki.”

And for the first time in years, the turn of the calendar didn’t feel like just another day to V. It felt like the beginning of something brighter.

Ronin x Misaki Headcanons

Chaotic Energy Meets Devilry:

Misaki’s wild, unpredictable antics are both endearing and amusing to Ronin. While Misaki runs around, tripping over their feet and dragging Ronin into chaos, he watches with a devilish smirk, fully committed to fueling their whirlwind energy.

Mutual Toying:

Ronin sees Misaki as his ultimate plaything—entertaining, clever, and brimming with surprises. Misaki, in turn, delights in teasing him back, whether by stealing his coat for "fashion purposes" or deliberately poking at his over-the-top devilish persona to make him crack a smile.

Gifts and Keepsakes:

Misaki’s love for giving trinkets and handmade gifts drives Ronin to reciprocate in his own twisted way. He might leave something chillingly thoughtful—like a necklace crafted from a bullet shell he saved during a particularly memorable fight. Misaki would treasure it as “aesthetic!”

Comfort in Chaos:

When Misaki spirals into their anxious moments, Ronin’s presence becomes grounding in an unexpected way. He doesn’t coddle them but instead offers sharp, precise truths that cut through their self-doubt. “You? Disappoint me? Not even in your dreams, sweetheart.”

Flirtation as a Language:

Misaki’s playful flirting perfectly matches Ronin’s darker, more suggestive banter. Every compliment Misaki throws is met with something like, “Careful, darling. Keep talking like that, and I might think you’re asking for trouble.”

Ronin's Soft Spot:

While Ronin thrives on chaos, he has a secret weakness for Misaki’s small acts of affection. When they fall asleep mid-movie with their head on his shoulder, he doesn’t move, no matter how much he wants to—because, in that moment, they’re the one person who can make him feel human again.

Joint Mischief:

Together, they’re an unstoppable force of chaos. Misaki distracts their target with their bubbly energy while Ronin moves in for the kill, smirking at the perfect harmony of their “performance.”

Protective Tendencies:

Ronin may joke about leaving Misaki to their own devices, but the truth is he’s fiercely protective. The moment he senses someone even thinking about hurting them, his devilish grin sharpens, and his eyes glint with danger. “Mess with them, and I’ll show you what real fear looks like.”

Pushing Buttons:

Misaki constantly tests Ronin’s patience by doing things like decorating his weapons with cute stickers. To their surprise, he doesn’t remove them. Instead, he waves around a knife with a sparkly rainbow decal, saying, “Intimidation and flair. You’re onto something, doll.”

Unbreakable Bond:

Their connection is magnetic—Ronin thrives on Misaki’s chaotic light, while Misaki finds solace in his dark confidence. Together, they embody a blend of mayhem and loyalty that only strengthens over time.

2. Teasing Turns to Trust:

Their relationship starts with playful banter. Misaki loves teasing Ronin about his “Devil” persona, while Ronin pretends to be annoyed by their antics. “You think I’m cute, don’t you?” Misaki teases one day, leaning into his space.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Ronin replies, his voice low and dangerous. “You might not like what happens if I do.”

Despite the banter, Misaki senses there’s more to him. They catch glimpses of his softer side—how he hesitates before delivering a finishing blow or how he watches them when he thinks they’re not looking.

3. Vulnerability in the Darkness:

The first crack in Ronin’s walls happens when Misaki spirals into self-doubt after a failed job. They try to mask it with their usual bubbly energy, but Ronin sees through it. “Stop pretending,” he says bluntly, his voice gentler than they expect. “You don’t have to put on a show for me.”

That moment stays with Misaki. They realize Ronin isn’t just the devilish figure he pretends to be; he genuinely cares about them. And for Ronin, seeing Misaki’s raw vulnerability stirs something he hasn’t felt in a long time—an urge to protect, not just out of obligation, but because they matter.

5. Obsession Blossoms:

Ronin becomes obsessed with Misaki in a way he’s never been with anyone else. Their chaos keeps him on his toes, their laughter breaks through his darkness, and their unwavering belief in him makes him feel seen. For Misaki, Ronin’s intensity is both thrilling and comforting—he’s the first person who doesn’t dismiss their energy as foolishness or their fears as weakness.

They start spending more time together, often under the guise of “work.” Misaki drags him to random, chaotic outings—like sneaking into an abandoned carnival at midnight—while Ronin insists on teaching them self-defense, though it often devolves into playful sparring matches.

6. The Confession – A Battle of Wills:

Their love story crescendos in an argument. Misaki accuses Ronin of shutting them out, while Ronin retorts that they don’t take anything seriously.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Misaki shouts, their voice breaking. “I’m scared, okay? Scared you’ll get tired of me, that I’m just some annoying little joke to you!”

Ronin freezes. For the first time, his cocky smirk falters. He steps closer, his voice low and steady. “You think I’d waste my time on someone I don’t care about? You’re not just some joke, Misaki. You’re everything.”

Misaki’s eyes well up, and they punch his chest lightly, muttering, “You’re such a jerk.” Ronin laughs softly, pulling them into a rare, genuine hug. “Yeah, but I’m your jerk.”

7. Love in Chaos:

From that moment, they’re inseparable. Their love is fiery and chaotic, but also surprisingly tender. Misaki continues to poke at Ronin’s dark persona, while Ronin takes every opportunity to remind them that they’re his greatest obsession. Together, they’re a perfect storm—a blend of chaos and devilry, bound by a love that thrives in the shadows.

Ronin x Misaki New Year Oneshot

It’s late on New Year’s Eve, and the city hums with the energy of fresh beginnings, fireworks, and cheers. The chill in the air bites at the skin, but inside the small, dimly-lit apartment, there’s warmth. A single candle flickers on the table, casting a soft glow that barely touches the edges of the room. The TV plays in the background, but it’s drowned out by the sound of Misaki’s delighted laughter.

Ronin walks through the door, a dark silhouette framed by the dim streetlight outside. He’s wearing his signature grin, his eyes glinting with the thrill of another job completed. His crowbar is still clutched tightly in his hand, streaked with blood. His coat flares behind him, and he steps inside with an air of quiet satisfaction.

The second the door closes behind him, Misaki leaps from the couch, their face lit up in excitement.

“Did you do it?” they ask, their voice practically vibrating with energy.

Ronin lets out a slow chuckle, his grin widening as he walks toward them. “Did what?” he purrs, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “You don’t think I’d forget about my little mischief maker now, do you?”

Misaki’s face lights up as they hold out the gift. “A New Year’s present, for you!” They’re practically glowing with pride, their hands trembling slightly from the excitement. A small bouquet of lilies, their petals soft and pristine, are carefully cradled in their palms.

Ronin looks at the flowers, then back at Misaki, a brief flash of surprise crossing his features. A moment of stillness follows before he snorts in amusement. “Lilies?” he asks, arching a brow. “You know I’m the Devil, right?”

Misaki giggles, their eyes sparkling with mischief as they step closer, offering the bouquet. “It’s symbolic!” they explain, their voice rising in excitement. “The lilies are about purity, and well—” Misaki looks him up and down, “—I figured you could use some of that. Plus, they smell nice!”

Ronin raises his brows in mock offense but takes the flowers nonetheless, his fingers brushing Misaki’s as he takes them from their hands. His usual sardonic smile returns as he inhales deeply, letting the floral scent fill his senses. “Purity, huh?” he mutters, his voice low and teasing. “Is that what you think I am? Some kind of saint?”

Misaki just laughs, walking past him and plopping back down on the couch, their feet kicking in the air. “Well, compared to the last person you murdered, sure. Maybe you are a saint.”

Ronin turns to face them, his grin twisting into something sharper, more devilish. “Don’t make me regret this,” he says, his tone switching from playful to dangerously low. He tosses the crowbar onto the table with a soft clink, the blood staining the polished wood.

Misaki, unfazed, grins back, holding up their hands as if surrendering. “Okay, okay, no need to get all devil-y on me. I just thought it was funny.” They pause, giggling to themselves again. “And I wanted to see you smile.”

Ronin’s smirk softens ever so slightly as he walks over to them, standing just a few feet away, leaning against the wall. He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting from Misaki to the lilies in his hand. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight,” he mutters.

Misaki beams. “Well, of course, you are in a good mood,” they say, dropping their feet to the floor and crossing their legs. “The New Year’s coming, you just did your thing, and you’ve got me right here.” They give him a cheeky wink. “Plus, I’ve got a whole year to spoil you, so it’s basically perfect.”

The Devil tilts his head, studying them. For a moment, the grin falters, his eyes softening just enough that anyone else might not have noticed. But Misaki does.

"Is that so?" Ronin asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He slowly lowers himself onto the couch next to them, his body tense, yet his posture relaxed for once. The bloodied crowbar is forgotten as he turns to face Misaki, their laughter still echoing in the background.

Misaki doesn’t immediately respond but instead leans their head against Ronin’s shoulder. “Yeah. It’s perfect,” they murmur, before laughing again. “You’ve got your demons, I’ve got my chaos, but we’ve got each other. What could be better?”

Ronin lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head against theirs. “I’m glad you think so, doll. Just don’t think I’ll go easy on you now.”

Misaki’s giggles fade into something deeper, a soft warmth filling the space between them. “You wouldn’t be Ronin if you did,” they reply, their fingers trailing over the lilies, twisting them gently in his hand.

With one final glance at the flowers, Ronin finally sets them down on the table, his lips curling into that devilish smile. “No. I suppose not. But don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Misaki snorts, already pulling themself back up to their feet. “Yeah, yeah, the Devil and all that,” they tease. “You’re still gonna love these lilies.”

And for the first time in a long while, Ronin’s eyes flicker with something that’s almost tenderness as he watches them bounce around, unable to sit still. His obsession grows in ways he doesn’t fully understand, but for the first time, he finds himself craving something other than blood.

It’s the beginning of a twisted New Year.

Ronin x Misaki New Year Headcanons

New Year's Chaos: Ronin doesn’t do resolutions—he does chaos. But he’ll make an exception when it comes to Misaki. As midnight approaches, they’re both caught up in the energy of the evening, teasing and laughing like they’re the only two people in the world. Misaki might even drag him into a crazy street celebration, holding onto his hand as they dance under the fireworks. Ronin, ever the devil, will gladly play along, spinning Misaki in circles while making dark jokes about "the end of the world."

Gifts with a Twist: Ronin doesn’t believe in gifts, but for Misaki, he’ll always find a way to make it personal. His gifts might be unexpected—a blood-stained bandana with a smug “wear it if you dare” or a new weapon to add to their collection. For them, even a gift is a challenge. Misaki, in turn, loves to give Ronin odd trinkets, like the lilies—something that pulls him out of his dark world and into theirs.

Affection in Chaos: Their affection is deeply chaotic. Misaki will kiss Ronin on the cheek just to see if he’ll react, while Ronin will definitely flirt with Misaki just to make them squirm. It’s a twisted push and pull, where affection is hidden behind the chaos, but both of them know it’s real.

Protective Devil: For all the chaos, Ronin’s darker, protective side shows when it comes to Misaki. He may joke about causing destruction and ruin, but when it comes to Misaki, he’ll go to any lengths to keep them safe.

Matching Chaos: They’re a perfect match in madness. Misaki's lighthearted, reckless energy meets Ronin’s devilish, dangerous nature. Their love is like a fire burning wildly—untamed, chaotic, and dangerously beautiful.

Ronin x Angel Headcanons

The Devil's Angel: Despite their chaotic history and twisted dynamic, there’s an undeniable understanding between Ronin and Angel. They’re two halves of a whole—one dark, one seemingly light—but both deeply broken and haunted by their pasts. Angel’s perfectionism and her thirst for approval mirror Ronin’s need for chaos and recognition. They’ve found that, in some strange way, they make each other feel validated, even if it’s not always in the healthiest ways.

The Flirtation-Fueled Friendship: Their flirtations are an art form. Every comment, every look, every move they make is part of a dangerous game. What makes their bond so intoxicating is that, while it’s rooted in genuine attraction and affection, it’s also tinged with danger. Ronin teases and toys with Angel constantly, calling her “his perfect angel” but always with that devilish undertone. Meanwhile, Angel loves playing along—knowing she’s a challenge to him. She pushes his buttons, trying to get him to be serious for once, but he always deflects.

Mutual Obsession with Killing: Angel’s view on killing is complicated. She only kills when it feels justified, when it’s for a cause she believes in. Ronin, on the other hand, kills for the thrill of it, but Angel’s presence in his life is one of the few things that keeps him from spiraling too far into pure chaos. He respects her enough to let her set the boundaries—he’ll kill for the fun of it, but only when she’s not around. Angel, on the other hand, is fiercely protective of Ronin. She’s always willing to kill for him, but never out of malice—only when she believes he needs protection. However, if it’s someone who’s truly harmed him or has become a threat to her, she’ll act without hesitation.

Protecting Each Other’s Vulnerabilities: Neither Ronin nor Angel let others see their vulnerabilities—except when they’re with each other. Angel knows that beneath Ronin’s devil-may-care attitude is someone deeply wounded, and she respects him enough not to push him too far. She’s also the one person who can make Ronin open up about his feelings, even if it’s through playful jabs or sarcastic comments. Similarly, Ronin is the only one who’s ever truly seen through Angel’s perfectionist facade. He sees her insecurities, and rather than exploiting them, he understands them. He’s seen the true Angel—the one who loves so easily but fears rejection more than anything else. He teases her about her “need for validation,” but at the same time, he’s the one who gives it to her when no one else can.

With Ther: Ronin’s relationship is laced with the shadow of Ther, Ronin’s first love. When Angel and Ronin first got together, it was, in part, due to their shared trauma. Ronin couldn’t help but see Ther in Angel’s eyes, and Angel found solace in someone who could truly understand her struggles. While Ronin projected his feelings for Ther onto Angel, she was subconsciously drawn to Ronin because he felt like a safer version of the men she had loved in the past—someone who could respect her boundaries without exploiting them. However, as time went on, they realized that their bond was more about coping with loss than genuine romantic love. They both used each other to process their respective heartbreaks, but once that phase passed, they came to understand that they were better off as friends.

Complicated Loyalty: While their romantic relationship is in the past, their loyalty to one another is unshakable. Angel might claim that she’s “over” her darker urges, but deep down, she knows she’d kill for Ronin if it ever came to it. He’s the only one she trusts completely. Similarly, Ronin would kill anyone who posed a threat to Angel. While he respects her wishes to not be “saved,” he knows her martyr complex all too well—and if it ever goes too far, he’ll drag her out of it, no matter what.

Their Relationship Now: Their friendship is built on a unique form of mutual understanding—one where they don’t need to be anything other than themselves. Ronin and Angel don’t need to prove anything to each other anymore. They’ve been through the worst of their respective emotional chaos, and now they simply exist as the only two people who truly understand each other’s darkness. They can go months without seeing each other and pick up right where they left off, exchanging knowing looks and quiet laughter. However, their unspoken bond is thick with tension. It’s not quite romantic, but it’s not just friendship either. The line is incredibly blurred.

Falling Apart, Then Together Again: After their breakup, both Ronin and Angel struggled to find their footing. Ronin didn’t take the breakup well, struggling to stop seeing Angel as Ther. Angel, on the other hand, found herself questioning everything. She’d been in love with the idea of having someone who understood her darkness, but she knew that she couldn’t continue down that path. Still, despite everything, she can’t help but feel like there’s a part of her that’s always drawn to Ronin. Even when they’re not together, they find themselves gravitating toward one another, silently supportive, waiting for the other to make a move.

Playful Dominance: When it comes to Ronin’s attitude towards Angel, he’s always teasing her about her perfectionism. But he also finds it strangely endearing—his version of affection. Angel, in turn, knows that Ronin’s playfulness is more than just teasing; it’s his way of showing love. She plays into his jokes, matching his flirtations with her own sarcasm, but she knows when to stop and when to push back. There’s a constant dance between them—who’s in control today? Angel never lets Ronin fully dominate her, and Ronin likes it that way. Their relationship thrives on this playful back-and-forth of dominance and submission, but never to the point of serious conflict.

Ronin’s Quiet Affection for Angel: Ronin may be chaotic and unpredictable, but with Angel, there’s an undeniable tenderness beneath the surface. He might joke about her being his "perfect angel," but deep down, he sees her as more than just a reflection of his past. She’s his, in her own broken way, and he’ll protect her from everything that threatens her, even if that means breaking a few rules. Angel’s perfect, messy, and twisted, and that’s exactly what Ronin needs. He can’t love her the way he once did, but in his own twisted way, he loves her deeply—and he knows she’s always been the one person who could make him feel understood, without all the theatrics.

Ronin x Angel New Year Oneshot

The city was alive with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and distant fireworks. It was New Year's Eve, and as the clock ticked toward midnight, the world outside seemed to pulse with anticipation. But inside the dimly lit apartment, the only sounds were the soft rustle of a bottle being uncorked and the gentle hum of a television playing in the background.

Angel sat perched on the armrest of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, staring out the window with an unreadable expression. The glass of champagne in her hand was half-empty, but her attention wasn’t on the drink. It was on the reflection of the city lights that danced in her eyes. Ronin leaned against the wall opposite her, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he inspected his crowbar. The crimson stain on the metal was almost gleaming under the dim light.

“You’re bloodier than usual tonight,” Angel remarked dryly, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Ronin didn’t look up. "The night’s still young," he muttered. He didn’t need to say more; he knew Angel understood. She had a way of reading between his lines, a trait he’d come to appreciate far more than he cared to admit.

Angel tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "You’re not thinking of starting the new year off with more bloodshed, are you?"

Ronin smirked. “Why not? It’s tradition.”

Angel’s gaze softened. She could see the familiar gleam in his eyes—the one that wasn’t entirely playful, the one that reminded her of their past together. There was a thrill in chaos, in destruction, that neither of them could completely leave behind. But, tonight... tonight was different. It wasn’t just about blood or carnage. It was about the fleeting, unspoken connection between them.

With a sudden, unexpected movement, Angel stood and walked over to him. She held out a bouquet of white lilies, their delicate petals contrasting against the steel of Ronin’s figure. He raised an eyebrow, a moment of surprise breaking his usual facade of indifference.

“Happy New Year, Ronin,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. "For what it’s worth, I think you’ve changed... for the better. Even if you won't admit it."

Ronin stared at the lilies for a long moment, then met her eyes. His smirk faded, replaced with something deeper—an emotion he wasn’t ready to name, but felt all the same.

“You always did like your flowers,” he teased lightly, but there was warmth beneath his words. “You really think I’ve changed, Angel?”

Angel chuckled softly, the sound like a quiet, melodic sigh. “Maybe not changed. But you’re... less broken than you used to be.”

Ronin let out a low chuckle, a sharp, almost bittersweet sound. “And you’re still the perfect angel, huh?”

“I’m trying,” Angel said with a small smile, her gaze flicking to the lilies she had handed him. "You're still the devil I know, though."

With a swift motion, Ronin grabbed the bouquet from her hands, then tugged her close with surprising tenderness. The flowers crushed against the side of her face as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Happy New Year, Angel,” he murmured, the words carrying a weight that neither of them had ever been able to express before.

He could feel her breath hitch, and for a brief moment, time slowed. There was no need for further words. They didn’t need to say everything they were feeling. The moment was enough.

As the countdown began in the background, the flickering of fireworks lighting up the night sky outside, Ronin held Angel close, not as a lover, not as a killer, but as two broken souls who found solace in the chaos they shared.

When the clock struck midnight, they didn’t share a kiss. They didn’t need to. They were already in sync, in their own way. The world outside erupted in celebration, but for Ronin and Angel, the new year had already begun, quietly, in their shared silence.

Headcanons for Ronin x Angel on New Year’s Eve

Reflection and Change: New Year’s Eve is a time of quiet introspection for both of them. Ronin and Angel don’t make resolutions, but they do reflect on how far they’ve come—together and apart. Ronin might look back at how he’s learned to manage his chaos, while Angel contemplates how she’s finally begun to heal, even if she doesn’t admit it.

Celebrating in Silence: Neither Ronin nor Angel are big on grand celebrations. They prefer a quiet night together, free from the noise and bustle of crowds. They might watch the fireworks from the window, or just enjoy the peace of being with someone who truly understands them without needing to put on a façade.

Symbolic Gifts: Angel chooses to give Ronin a bouquet of white lilies on New Year’s Eve, a symbol of her quiet affection. It’s not flashy or romantic in the traditional sense, but the gesture is meaningful. For Ronin, it’s the first time he’s ever truly felt seen for who he is—both broken and whole—without needing to pretend.

Also..because..it's his fav just make it bloody even better!

Subtle Flirting and Affection: Their flirting remains as sharp as ever, but it’s softer, gentler on New Year’s Eve. There’s a sort of unspoken tenderness in the way they interact, a mutual understanding that the bond between them is more complex than the chaos of their past relationship.

The Devil’s Protection: Even though their relationship is no longer romantic, Ronin is still fiercely protective of Angel. He won’t let anyone hurt her, not even herself. If she’s ever in danger, he’ll spring into action without a second thought. But Angel has learned to trust her own instincts and doesn’t always need saving, though she knows Ronin would do it in a heartbeat.

No Need for Words: Ronin and Angel’s dynamic is such that they don’t always need to speak to communicate. A simple look, a gesture, is enough. They’ve grown so accustomed to each other that their silence can be just as intimate as their words.

Celebrating in Their Own Way: The fireworks and celebrations outside don’t interest them. Instead, they find their own way of marking the occasion: a quiet drink, a shared laugh over something silly, and a moment of silent connection where nothing else matters.

The Unspoken Bond: The New Year marks another year in their co-dependent friendship, a relationship built on mutual understanding and a shared darkness. They may never be fully healed, but they’ve found something more meaningful in each other—a bond that doesn’t need explanation.

A Quiet New Year's Eve Kiss (Optional): It could happen, if they both feel like giving in to the moment—no words, just the feeling of finally being at peace with each other. A kiss to signify that, even after everything, they still have each other. But even if it doesn’t happen, the night still feels complete.

Ronin’s Reflection: Ronin doesn’t usually take time to reflect on the past year, but with Angel by his side, he can’t help but think about how much he’s changed. He may not show it, but deep down, the bond with her has allowed him to stop looking for ghosts in others and to finally start letting go of Ther—even if he doesn’t admit it.

FELUCA

Headcanons for Feli and Luca:

Long-distance Comfort: Despite the physical distance, Feli and Luca never feel apart. The emotional connection they share makes the distance easy to bear. Feli’s disability adds another layer of comfort—Luca always makes sure they can keep in touch without overwhelming her.

Luca’s Golden Retriever Energy: Luca is the type to send random, funny texts to Feli at all hours of the day. Sometimes, he’ll send her memes he thinks are hilarious, or just ask about her day with a lot of energy. He tends to act like an excited puppy around her, constantly trying to make her smile.

Feli’s Teasing: Feli’s affection is often shown through playful teasing. She loves to make fun of Luca’s overly cheerful nature or when he gets overly emotional, but she does it out of affection. If anyone else were to tease Luca, she’d be quick to defend him, even if she was the one who started it.

Late-Night Calls: Feli and Luca are known for their late-night talks that sometimes end in both of them falling asleep on call. If one wakes up early, they’ll sneak a screenshot of the other’s sleeping face, and the next day, they share a laugh about it.

Luca’s Romantic Gestures: Luca doesn’t hide his feelings for Feli. If he finds something that reminds him of her, he’ll send it immediately, whether it’s a song, a small gift, or even a sappy fanfic he thinks she’ll find funny. His love is pure and blunt—he’s not shy about showing her how much he cares.

Feli’s Romantic Walls: Though she’s fallen for Luca, Feli tries to keep her feelings under wraps. She doesn’t want to make things complicated between them, so she hides her emotions. She tends to express her affection through teasing and caring gestures, but keeps her deeper feelings guarded—especially when she’s unsure of Luca’s feelings.

Sappy Texts: They’re often sending each other ridiculously cheesy texts. Feli will call Luca her “favorite goofball,” while Luca will respond with something over-the-top sweet. They both know it’s all in fun, but there’s a deep affection in their words.

Mutual Support: Luca helps Feli in ways she doesn’t even ask for. If she’s feeling down, he’s the first one to try to cheer her up with a ridiculous joke or a heartwarming message. Feli, in turn, supports Luca through his moments of self-doubt, reminding him how amazing he is even when he doesn't believe it.

In-Person Meetings: If they ever get the chance to meet, it’s going to be a chaotic but heartwarming event. Luca would be so excited to meet Feli in person, and Feli, though reserved, would feel a mix of nervousness and overwhelming happiness.

Their Future: Both have hints of romantic feelings for each other but are scared to confess them. Feli fears ruining the friendship, and Luca is too oblivious to realize his own feelings. They’ll keep being the best of friends for now, but their bond is undeniable.

Feli x Luca New Year Headcanons

New Year's Countdown: Feli and Luca have a long-standing tradition of ringing in the new year together, despite the distance. They always stay up late on a voice call, talking about their favorite memories from the past year and making silly resolutions that they both know they’ll never keep. Feli loves teasing Luca about his overly optimistic resolutions, while Luca playfully insists on sticking to them, often exaggerating them for comedic effect.

Midnight Confessions: At the stroke of midnight, they always share an inside joke or a sweet, sappy message to each other. Feli, being a little mischievous, might send something dramatic like, “I have a confession to make… I’m in love with you.” Luca, still a little clueless but charmed, would respond with, “I know, it’s so obvious! I’m not blind, Feli.” They both laugh, knowing the unspoken truth, but neither is quite ready to admit it out loud just yet.

The Sweetest New Year's Morning: After the celebrations, they have a small tradition where they send each other the first text of the year, always with something like, “Happy New Year, sunshine!” or “You make my year better just by being you.” Even if they don’t get to spend the day together, it’s a ritual that helps them feel connected despite the distance.

The Cozy New Year Call: Since Feli can’t walk, Luca makes sure to spend the entire day with her over text, sending her pictures of whatever he’s doing, whether it’s enjoying some leftover New Year's snacks or playing video games. Feli teases him, calling him a "mischievous child," but secretly loves the attention. They both share their New Year's plans and sometimes do silly activities together like video games or watching movies, even if it’s from different locations.

Gift-Giving: Luca always gets Feli something cute for the new year, whether it’s a small gift or a heartfelt handwritten letter, which Feli adores. It’s always personal, and she teases him for being too sappy. In return, Feli makes Luca a handmade card or sends him something she made herself, perhaps a painting or a little something from her favorite things. It's their way of showing affection without needing grand gestures, keeping it simple but meaningful.

Feli x Luca New Year One-shot

New Year’s Eve

The clock was ticking, the sound of the seconds echoing in their heads as Feli and Luca prepared for their annual New Year’s Eve ritual. It wasn’t anything fancy—just two best friends, talking about their day, teasing each other relentlessly, and waiting for the moment when the world would welcome a new year.

Feli’s room was cozy, filled with soft lights from her fairy string lights and the faint hum of her favorite music playing in the background. Luca was, as always, in his cozy hoodie, curled up on his bed, a little too excited to be anywhere but with Feli.

“You know, it’s not the same without you here,” Luca said, his voice full of that innocent sincerity he always had when talking to her.

Feli chuckled, “Oh, please, Luca. You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a time zone difference.”

“But still,” Luca insisted. “I feel like something’s missing if we’re not together for this.”

Feli smiled softly, her heart warming at his words. Despite his over-the-top personality, Luca had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel special.

The countdown began, Feli couldn’t help herself. “Luca, I have a confession to make,” she said, teasingly.

“Oh?” Luca’s voice perked up. “What is it?”

“I love you,” Feli said, her tone light and playful, yet her heart pounded in her chest.

There was a long pause before Luca burst into laughter. “Yeah, I know! It’s so obvious! I’m not blind, you know!” he teased back, making Feli roll her eyes with affection.

They both laughed together, the sound ringing through their call. Even though neither of them said the words out loud—at least not fully—they both understood what was in their hearts.

Midnight struck, they shared a quiet moment. Feli’s screen was filled with Luca’s wide, goofy grin, and she felt that familiar warmth spread through her chest.

“Happy New Year, Feli,” Luca said, his voice full of sweetness.

“Happy New Year, you giant dork,” she responded, affection lacing her words.

Feli’s fingers hovered over the screen, her teasing smile softening into something more genuine. “You know, one of these days, we’re actually going to meet in person, right?”

Luca’s eyes sparkled. “Of course, and when we do, I’m getting you the biggest hug. You better be ready for it!”

Feli laughed, shaking her head. “You and your hugs. I’m not sure I’ll survive it.”

“You will. I promise,” Luca replied with a wink.

And as the year turned, Feli couldn’t help but think that, maybe, just maybe, they’d have more than just the same old conversations next year. Maybe they’d share more moments, more memories. Maybe—just maybe—they’d start a whole new chapter together. But for now, she was content, happy to ring in the new year with her boyfriend

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