#killer chat ronin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elysiaheaven · 2 months ago

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"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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slay00ryu · 1 month ago

Text

Date with your Devilish Butcher

So you and Ronin are dating officially now, but hey you never went out on a real date (unless you count your first meeting or all the truth and dares games dates).

The idea of a date never came to your mind until Luca and Feli were acting all lovey-dovey in VC.

After that you were thinking about a real date all the time, you wouldn't ask Ronin out of course, you didn't know what a serial killer would even want to do on said date.

Well to your surprise Ronin decided to ask you out himself and you agreed without hesitation. How will your date go? Well let's see it together.

_____________________________________________

List of trigger warnings

- Blood and Gore

- Swears

- Violence

- Murder (duh)

You've been warmed, enjoy! <3

_____________________________________________

🫀

You were in the middle of getting ready for your date with Ronin. He asked you out a week ago while you were telling him about the story you wanted to write, you were frustrated because you couldn't find any new murder ideas and you wanted to write a "dark romance" story with a murder motive, then he said the sentence that left you stunned :

Ronin: Darlin' let's go out next Wednesday.

Those were his exact words, he didn't exactly wait for your answer, he just laughed at your surprised expression and left for "work", of course the next morning all news sites were flooded with a new murder from "The Butcher".

Now you were standing in front of your mirror adding the final touches to the outfit you prepared. For some reason your favourite devil decided that you have to wear a white shirt, everything else is up to you, but not the shirt. You still had half an hour left until Ronin would arrive at your doorstep to collect you to that mysterious date he had prepared. You sat down on your bed to mentally prepare for whatever he had planned, after all, you can't exactly expect anything from the devil.

Suddenly your phone rang, the noise almost made you jump, you quickly reached for it and picked up the call that turned out to be from Ronin.

User: Ronin? Why are you calling me?

Ronin: Get your pretty self down here, I'm already waitin' for you.

You were quick on your feet, you moved to your window and looked out of it. There he was, he gave off this arrogant energy even from so far away, you shut the curtains and looked back to your phone. He was still on the line.

User: Ronin you were supposed to be here in half an hour!

Ronin: Awh stop whining like you aren't all dolled up and ready to go now, darlin'. Don't keep the devil waiting, or he may come for you himself.

There was silence from your side, followed by his snicker and three beeping sounds informing you that the call has ended. You sighed and massaged your temples. Oh how annoying Ronin was. You grabbed your favourite bag, made sure that you've put everything you needed and quickly made your way out of your house.

Ronin: Took you long enough, my divine darlin'.

You were greeted by Ronin's wide grin. He closed the distance between the two of you and placed a kiss on the top of your head. He took your hand in his and looked you up and down. He took his sweet time while he was obviously checking you out.

Ronin: My, my, what a sight you are.

A small hint of a blush found its way to your cheeks.

User: Oh shut it.

You squeezed his hand to show off your annoyance with his behaviour.

User: Where are we going?

Ronin:'s a surprise. You'll see once we arrive.

He smirked when he saw your disappointed face and pinched your cheek with his free hand.

Ronin: Awh, cut the dramatics, you'll like it.

🫀

It took the two of you a ten minute ride to reach Ronin's chosen destination. He covered your eyes with a blindfold for a "better reaction" you didn't argue with him. It was somewhat sweet when you gave it more thought. Yes, he is a serial killer and could blindfold you so you wouldn't know how to escape the possible death he could arrange for you. But Ronin also proved himself to be quite the romantic. He made sure to visit you when you had a shitty day. He gave you advice for your killer protagonists (sometimes even tried out your ideas to see if they would actually work).

Ronin: We're here, writer darlin'.

Ronin's voice from your side and the sound of the passenger door opening tore you out of your thoughts. You could feel his hands moving to unbuckle your seat belt and then grasping your hands to help you get out of his car.

User: Can I take this thing off now?

You asked and reached your hand to the blindfold to lift it up, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

Ronin: Don't you trust me baby? I'm an amazing guide, those dead people somehow had to find their way to my favourite gruesome alley.

He chuckled at his own words and you just furrowed your brows.

User: You are so... Infuriating sometimes.

Ronin: But you love the way I push your buttons, don't you Darlin'?

He was, unfortunately, not wrong. You loved him and all that came with him. His twisted games and grotesque nature. His past and present. God, you loved him even when he made you want to punch him in that pretty face of his. You had to admit that you started to like the idea of being the Devil's Fallen angel.

Ronin was keeping his hands on your shoulders, he was walking behind you and guiding you. At first you were walking on hard concrete, but then you could feel grass under your feet. You walked through the fields of grass for some time, then Ronin stopped you. He moved his hands to your blindfold and gently untied it.

Ronin: We're here. How do you like this darling?

Ronin whispered into your ear. Your eyes had to take their sweet time to adjust to the sunlight. But after you regained your vision your eyes met the most breathtaking sight ever. You were in the middle of an apple orchid, surrounded by nothing but apple trees, never ending fields of grass, and sometimes even a couple or small groups of friends could be seen here and there.

You turned around to look at Ronin, a wide smile spread over your lips as you wrapped your around him.

User: Ronin this is... Wow... No one ever took me to such a beautiful place before.

You said with a blush as you realized how cheesy your words must've sounded. You wanted to take a step back but Ronin wrapped his own arms around you.

Ronin: You're so fuckin' adorable when you're actin' all happy and excited.

He chuckled, but this was a genuine and sweet sounding chuckle. You smiled at his words and took a step back, taking a hold of his hand.

User: So, what's the plan? Are we just going to walk around the apple orchid?

Ronin shook his head in response.

Ronin: Nah, I wanted to pick some apples and then we can go back to your place.

You could see in his face that he had mischief in mind. What could he possibly want to do with these apples to have that kind of expression on his face? You decided that it's best to not know and just regret this later if it's something really bad.

You were walking through the apple trees, Ronin picked the apples and stored them into a bag that he brought with himself. You knew that he liked anything that had even a little taste of apple in it. So it was no surprise when Ronin ate one of the apples he picked while the two of you were walking.

This date felt almost "normal", you didn't feel like your boyfriend was a serial killer who was brutal and gruesome. This doesn't mean that you don't like him when he acts like... Well Ronin, the devil's butcher. It was just this simple walk through the grass, was a good change of pace from time to time.

You didn't take long in the orchid. After less than an hour later you were on your way back home (this time you could see the road) Ronin was humming along to a death metal song while he was tapping the rhythm on the steering wheel. You watched through the window, you drove past a small village, a forest and your city.

Soon you arrived back at your place. Ronin placed the bag full of apples on the kitchen counter and turned to look at you. His signature smirk present on his lips.

User: What are you scheming?

You asked, brow raised and arms folded over your chest.

Ronin: Oh nothing dangerous, yet.

He snickered and pulled you by your arm towards him.

Ronin: Since we've got so many apples, we are obligated to use them, no?

It didn't take a genius to realise that what Ronin meant was that you have to use them. You sighed heavily clearly annoyed by his behaviour but you soon gave in. After all his help, you could as well do something for him, even though he shouldn't be praised for using the excuse of helping you to commit more murders.

You took off your leather jacket, the same jacket that Ronin gave you a few weeks prior and tossed it at the dining table.

User: Fine. I'll make you an apple pie, happy?

You asked as you started to take out the necessary ingredients from your refrigerator. Ronin's face answered your question on its own. You swore that the smile he was wearing right now was even bigger than his usual smiles.

Ronin: Oh you don't know how grateful I truly am, darlin'.

He answered for what you gave him an eye roll.

User: If you're so grateful then lend me a hand here.

You have him a scolding look and he raised him hands in a gesture of surrender. He took off his own jacket and placed it next to yours.

Ronin: Fine, fine. I'll do the chopping, after all it's something I'm good at.

He made another joke about his "profession" and you almost laughed but you couldn't give him the satisfaction of actually finding his jokes funny.

Your time wasn't bad. Ronin actually helped you with more than just chopping the apples. He also annoyed you by poking you at your sides or on your nose. You just elbowed him in answer for what he just chuckled and gave you some flirtatious answers. You placed the pie into the oven and cleaned the kitchen that was covered in flour (Ronin decided to throw some at you and answered in doing the exact same thing).

Ronin: So while we wait. How about watchin' a movie baby? I have a perfect pick for today.

There wasn't anything better to do so you agreed. You moved to your living room that was really close to your kitchen so you would hear the oven alarm go off. You both sat down on the sofa. While Ronin was looking for a movie that definitely sounded like a slasher, you leaned your head on his shoulder and let his hand wrap around your waist.

Your guess wasn't wrong. Ronin picked the movie "Saw x" you felt like Ronin had fun while you were watching the movie, although he sometimes commented about how boring some moments are for him. Maybe you didn't share Ronin's feelings towards the horror movie, but you certainly were surprised by how unfazed you were by the intense gore. Well, after receiving pictures of gory murders first thing in the morning at least three times a week on #killer_shit, you can't really expect yourself to be scared by a movie.

Now you are watching the second part of the movie, but this time with a pie to eat along, while people are opening themselves with a chainsaw.

That was definitely an... Intriguing first date. And when you thought that it was coming to an end because it was already close to midnight by the time the movie finished and you stopped discussing the plot. Ronin decided to surprise you once again.

Ronin: Oh? You thinkin' that it's already over darlin'? How adorable. But you couldn't be more wrong.

You didn't really enjoy the look in his eyes, it screamed murder. You felt like his plan wasn't going to kill you, but it would definitely be life-changing. You didn't really have much say in this, he basically pulled you by your hand to his car, you drove away into the night and found yourselves in the purgatory.

Ronin stood in the shadows, his face covered with his white mask with black dots going through the middle of it. Crowbar in one hand, the other hand reaching out to you with another mask.

User: Ronin... What exactly are we going to do tonight?

He laughed at your question, this wasn't his usual mocking snicker. He pushed the crowbar into your hands and put the simple black mask on your face, leaning down to your eye level.

Ronin: You didn't really expect a normal date with me, did you? Come on baby, where's the fun in that?

He took the crowbar from you, you could sense the twisted smile on his mouth even when it was covered. You both stood there, hidden in the shadows. Ronin was humming while you just wanted whatever this is to be over. But you were already corrupted so it was only a matter of time before Ronin actually led you into murdering someone, so making it one of your first date attractions shouldn't be so surprising.

Suddenly Ronin pushed himself off of the wall and gave you a signal to stay in your place, you were surprised by his action especially after you just saw him pulling a man into the alley. Wasn't he supposed to give you his crowbar and let you have your first taste of blood shed? It's not like you would be against it, sometimes you could find yourself fantasizing about committing a murder, it started even before you and Ronin were together, writing graphic scenes for your book twisted your brain enough on its own. But now you could only stand and watch the scene in front of you upfold.

Ronin was really rough when it came to murder. He wasn't waiting for the bastard to scream or beg for mercy. He smashed his back with his crowbar while he tried to crawl away from him (he probably twisted his ankle while Ronin threw him on the ground). Your beloved devil crouched next to him while he held his back down with his crowbar.

Ronin: Tsk, tsk. This asshole thinks that he can escape from the devil. Too bad. The devil was always stronger than the pathetic humans.

He laughed maniacally and straightened himself. He smashed the man's head with his weapon. His skull smashed under the strength of the metal hitting it. There was blood everywhere, the brain spilled on the concrete, some new blood reached the walls. Ronin smashed the body a few more times, but for some reason he avoided the torso.

You didn't feel disgusted by this sight, nor were you scared. You somehow felt hypnotized by this and before you knew it, you were almost in front of the corpse. You felt like you were in some kind of trance. You didn't even realise when Ronin moved behind you, wrapping one of his hands around your waist while the other reached your throat. His head was resting on your shoulder, his hot breath sending a ticking sensation on your skin.

Ronin: Writer darlin'... Isn't this a beautiful sight?

He whispered those words into your ear, his fingers gently pressing on your throat. You slowly nodded your head, unable to take your eyes off of the dead body.

Ronin: So how about you curve out that aaorta you promised me? Raw and beating. As filthy as nature made it.

His words sounded like the most romantic love confession to your already deranged brain. You felt like you could do it, you should do it...

Ronin: Would'ja do it?

Another sweet sounding whisper, and a knife placed into your hand. You gripped the handle and slowly walked towards the body, your feet were moving on their own. Soon you were kneeling in front of the torso. Slicing it open with your knife, breaking the ribs so you could reach the heart. You had to cut a few veins because they made it harder to take it. You took the heart into your hand, holding it like it was something precious to you.

You knelt in front of Ronin and held it out to him. He took the heart from you, letting the blood drip to the ground. He lifted the mask, so you could see how terrifyingly amazed he looked. He liked the sight in front of him, he knelt in front of you and took the mask off of your head.

Ronin: Oh I love how rotten you became, my divine lover. My fallen angel.

The next thing you felt were his warm lips pressed to yours. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, your kisses deep and raw, he even bit your lip to the point when the both of you felt the metallic taste on your tongues.

And this is how you became the Devil's corrupted angel.

🫀

Hi! Hi! This is my first ever work in the beautiful English language. Please don't kill me.

I hope I did Ronin justice 😭😭

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #tw blood #cw: gore #romance #fanfiction #fluff #gender neutral reader

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