#killer chat ronin

[thatonegh0stboi]

Ronin this ronin that WHATABOUT MY PERFECT WIFE MISAKI?!?!

Please whenever i search Misaki after a while i just get a WAVE of ronin stuff send help

[ins0mniax-0nline]

KILLER CHAT KILLER CHAT

OMG FINNALY FINISHED THIS digital art is the death of me

I love these so sooo much drew matching pfps I'll definitely be using w my bf🙏

[noralar]

Wroom Wroom is all imma say ^^

[delaxtr1of]

Ronin again. I can’t stop 💔💔

[azialways]

ronin x reader whos really heavy on physical touch? Like is constantly holding his hand or hugging/kissing him all the time, I love your writing!

that feeling is holy

ronin x touchy!reader

cws: none!

You loved your boyfriend, you loved everything about him. Every flaw and imperfection, you adored it. He was a serial killer? Who cares, not you. He was perfect in every way possible to you, and nobody could tell you otherwise. You fell in love with him from that first call, that charm he had? It drew you in from the very first word. He wanted to corrupt you, and you couldn’t care less. You’d let him corrupt you, as long as it meant you could have him by your side.

And now, he was out at work, and you missed him beyond belief. It was honestly a problem how much you loved him. So you went and texted him, not caring if he was busy.

————————————————————

Ronin 💕💕

you: i miss you

you: a lot

ronin 💕💕 is typing

ronin 💕💕: awh already?

ronin 💕💕: darlin I just left

you: i know but i still miss u

ronin 💕💕: i gotta Work baby

ronin 💕💕: how else Am i gonna pay Rent?

you: kill people for hire like misaki?

ronin 💕💕: ha, nah.

ronin 💕💕: not my style, my Love. yk that.

you: i guess. i’ll just sit here and wait.

So you did, and you missed him every second you did. You ended up stealing one of his favorite tshirts, because you wanted to feel closer to him. The smell of cologne and cigarettes came to your nose, and you sighed happily. It smelled like home. To entertain yourself while he was gone, you went between joining VC in the slaughterhouse, or you played pokemon on his gameboy, sitting by the bed curled up in the blankets. Right now, you were on his PC, sitting on his chair, on VC with the group.

“_____, why are you on Ronin’s account?” Angel asked, and you just laughed in response.

“Eh, why not? He has the better setup anyways.” You shrugged, responding to her.

“Valid, his setup is pretty good.” She agreed, laughing softly.

“Right? And he refuses to help me get a setup.” You complained, but you actually didn’t care that much.

“Really? Why is that?”

“He thinks I’m not enough of a gamer to need one, which is true, but cmon.” You chuckled, and then Misaki chimed in.

“Is he saying pokemon and minecraft aren’t gamer enough? Rude.” They commented.

You and the server members continued to have conversations for what felt like a short amount of time. You talked about various topics, killings, recent victim stories, and general life stories. You heard about Misaki’s transfer pattern art idea, and it shockingly didn’t seem like a horrible idea, even if the concept was weird. V talked about his latest animal rescue, and how he’s currently raising a kitty, and Angel complained about her manager being a douchebag. Of course, everyone offered to kill him off, but she would always refuse. It reminded you of Ronin’s stubbornness in a way, how he always insisted on doing things himself. God even talking to people made you think of him. You missed him.

ding

ronin 💕💕: coming home early, manager decided to close up early.

ronin 💕💕: be home in 10, darling.

You smiled at the message, thanking his manager telepathically for bringing him home to you early. You had been thinking about him all day, craving his touch. Not even in the sexual way, but you just wanted to be in his arms again. You wanted to feel his heart beat on your back as you cuddled, you wanted to hear his breathing slow once he was comfortable. All the small little niche romantic moments, you wanted those with him. Luckily for you, Ronin is equally as touchy as you were, so it never was much of an ask, if he wasn’t already touching you. You typically didn’t have to ask, which you loved.

Eventually, you heard the door creak open and click shut, but so you stood up, but just as you were getting out of his chair, the bedroom door creaked open.

“Didja miss me?” He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. You stood up and walked over to him, going to hug him, but he already knew and wrapped his arms around your waist. Your arms went around his neck, and for a moment, you stayed like that. You stayed wrapped up in his touch, rocking back and forth gently. You bury your head in his neck, taking in the smell of gasoline mixed with his cologne. It felt familiar, like home. He then picked you up off your feet, making you gasp softly before placing you gently on the bed.

“Hey.” He smirked, looking down at you. He took in the way your cheeks flushed and your breathing quickened as he positioned himself on top of you, holding you up against the pillow.

“Hey yourself.” You responded, looking at him with those big, enamored eyes. He then placed himself between your thighs, resting his head on your chest.

“Long day?” You murmured, your hands going to his hair, gently raking through the red strands.

“Too many annoying customers.” He mumbled against your neck. He left a kiss under your jaw, and it made you smile. He was so cute like this, tired after a long day made for a clingy, touchy Ronin, which you loved.

“I’m sorry babe. I’m here now, and you can just relax and take a nap if you want.” You suggested, stroking patterns in his hair.

“Yeah…I jus’ might.” He yawned, cuddling up against you and pulled the covers over him. He then came up for a kiss, leaning in slowly, giving you a chance to say no if you wanted, but you didn’t. you wanted to taste his lips, to kiss him again. So you leaned in as well, slotting your lips between his, and he immediately perked up. He came up from his place on your chest, and leaned over you, his arms encasing you against the bedframe. You moaned softly at the feeling of his weight still on you as he kissed you. He kissed you like it was the first time again, like you were back in purgatory, with his knife against your throat and his tongue in your mouth. He was gentler, though. He was soft and tender in his kiss, his hand gently caressing your cheek as he pulled away, to then rest his forehead on yours.

“I love ya…yknow that?” He mumbled.

“Mmm, I don’t know. You might have to prove it.” You teased, smirking at him.

“I just might.” He chuckled, teasing your lips of another kiss.

“Be my guest.”

[dreamydoodles27]

Ronin from Killer Chat 👀

(Psst psst there's going to be a Killer Chat expanded edition you can help fund. Look at @rosesrotofficial for details psst psst)

[sincerelyyourslilly]

It's what you've always wanted, isn't it?

a continuation of the 'bad ending', if you will

[vandme12]

What if Ronin disappeared from the server? Everywhere basically he's not "active" but he still kills! That's how Reader knows he's alive! Angel doesn't know but comforts us :(

This is so random lol but I wanted to do something.. this is so ass lol sorry I just wanted to say I'm not dead yet

IT'S ALL A DREAM WRITER DARLIN

A little like a lover. His bloodied fingers brush against yours because to him, it is. His eyes are wild, gleaming with that familiar madness, but there's something else lurking underneath—something softer, darker, and just for you.

"You’re such a fuckin’ natural, baby," he purrs, leaning in to smear blood against your lips in a mockery of a kiss. "Didn’t think you had it in ya, but damn—look at you. My little heart thief."

Blood streaks down his chin, dripping against his throat like a necklace crafted just for him.

"And you did it for me," he groans, half-possessive, half-worshipping. "Gotta admit, darling—thought I was gonna have to drag ya down to Hell myself. But nah, you’re already here, ain’tcha?"

Your stomach twists—not with disgust, but something deeper. Something terrifying. Something exhilarating.

Eyes black and burning as he pins you against the alley wall, the jagged brick digging into your back. His lips hover near your ear, voice syrup-sweet and venom-thick.

"So tell me," he whispers, each word dripping with wicked delight, "are you gonna be my Darlin forever… or just until the blood runs dry?"

Ronin was gone.

Not a trace, not a whisper, not even a smirking message left behind in the server to taunt you. Just… gone.

You wanted to believe he got caught. That maybe, finally, someone had managed to put the devil himself in a cage. But the police were still clueless, still chasing ghosts. No one knew who Butcher was. No one except you.

So why did relief feel like a lie?

And why, when you opened your door that night, did your breath hitch at the sight of what he left behind?

Two little creatures, curled up in a makeshift nest of a tattered hoodie you recognized as his. One, a sleek rat twitching its nose up at you, beady eyes gleaming with something eerily knowing. The other, a long, slender red corn snake, lazily draped over the fabric like it belonged there.

Blackjack. Pepperoni.

You remembered the names from late-night conversations, half-teasing, half-affectionate.

"You’re scared of snakes? Tch. I should make you hold Pepperoni. He’s a sweetheart." "Blackjack’s an asshole, just like me. That’s why I like him." "If I ever disappear, I’ll know who to trust with ‘em."

Your stomach twisted.

He trusted you.

You should’ve closed the door. Should’ve called someone, anyone. Instead, you sank to your knees, reaching out with shaking hands.

Pepperoni slithered into your palm, warm and smooth and alive. Blackjack scurried up your arm like he already knew you, like he already belonged to you.

You missed him.

It had been almost two months.

Too long. Long enough that the ache in your chest wasn’t sharp anymore—it festered. The memories crawled, burrowed, rotted inside you like maggots writhing beneath the surface.

At first, you tried to forget. Tried to scrub him out of your life like bloodstains on tile. But his absence had teeth, and it bit down hard.

The server was quieter without him. Too quiet. No snarky messages, no devil-may-care threats disguised as jokes. No "miss me?" slipping into your inbox at 3 AM.

You told yourself you were better off—safer, even. But at night, when the world slowed down and the silence wrapped around your throat, you felt it. That hollow, gnawing space where he used to be.

Pepperoni curled around your wrist when you couldn’t sleep, warm and steady. Blackjack always found a way to nuzzle against your neck like he knew you needed it. They missed him too.

And maybe… maybe you were starting to understand.

Ronin didn’t just disappear. He left a hole—one no one else could fill.

The server wasn’t the same without him.

At first, no one wanted to admit it. Ronin had a way of crawling under your skin—he got off on it, really. But with him gone, the absence felt loud. Uncomfortable. Like a joke that didn’t land.

And now? Everyone was looking.

"He's not dead," Angel typed one night, her words sharp and certain. "If he was, we'd know. Someone like Ronin doesn't go quietly. Maybe it's for a reason.."

You believed her. Still, that didn’t make the silence any easier.

You were pretty sure everyone was trying to cheer you up...

hitmeuppp: bro what if he like hitmeuppp: joined a cult?? hitmeuppp: cults LOVE guys like him

hitmeuppp: or wait what if he’s just on vacation hitmeuppp: goreboy in hawaiian shirt hitmeuppp: nah hed kill everyone there nvm..btw he's gonna be back and bully the server

Despite the chaos, they were looking harder than anyone. Maybe they missed him more than they’d admit.

V, though? He didn’t bother with feelings. Cold. Precise. Always.

K9: His last confirmed activity was "--" days ago. K9: Although the victims are still dead actively- His presence is not there.. K9: If you find anything, report it. Also, Try not stress yourself much...

He acted like it didn’t bother him. But the fact that he kept checking meant it did.

Even Vince—who usually didn’t give a damn—started to notice the weird energy.

Eviscerator1990: Don't Worry. I'm Sure He will Come Back, If Anything happens- Worry not- I Will Have To Unretire...

Ai Hua sent you a hug and a message, if you want you can talk..

And Luca… well, he had a simpler take.

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: do u think he’s ok? LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: like idk he seemed kinda sad nowadays..

But Felicite said the thing no one else wanted to.

Felicite: What if he doesn’t want to be found? He will...come back..

And maybe… maybe she was right.

But every time Pepperoni curled tighter around your wrist, every time Blackjack twitched his little nose like he was still waiting for his owner to come home, you felt it.

The call rang out—empty, hollow. No answer.

You clicked again. Once. Twice. Three times.

Still nothing.

Your chest burned with the weight of it—why wasn’t he picking up? He always picked up for you. Even when it was just to tease, to laugh, to tell you how pathetic you sounded begging for his attention.

But now? Silence.

Your fingers trembled as you slammed the mouse down, dragging the call button again. The little green circle spun mockingly, and something inside you snapped.

CRACK.

The knife was already in your hand—when did you grab it? Didn’t matter. You brought it down hard—once, twice, again—straight through the heart of the thing that wouldn’t bring him back. The plastic crunched beneath the blade, sparks flickering as the screen cracked wide open like a wound.

“PICK UP!” you screamed, voice raw—shaking—“PICK UP, YOU BASTARD!”

But there was no answer. Just you, the broken mess of your PC, and the sound of your own sobs crawling up your throat.

And then—

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A call. Your stomach twisted. It couldn’t be—

You fumbled for your phone, your breath catching in your chest. The screen blurred through tears—Maria?

No.

Angel.

You hit accept before your mind could catch up. “H-Hello…?”

“Hey,” her voice came through smooth, too smooth. “You’re crying....”

You broke. The tears you’d been holding back—pretending weren’t there—poured out like floodgates. Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t stop the sobs that shook you from the inside out.

“I—I c-called,” you choked out, “he won’t—he won’t answer, Angel—why won’t he answer—?!”

For a moment, she didn’t speak. Just the sound of her breathing, steady and sure. Then—soft, too soft—

“...I know.”

“Get a grip....Y/n.."

Angel’s voice cut through your sobs—sharp, cold, nothing like the smooth comfort you wanted.

Your breath hitched. “I—I can’t—”

“You can.” Her tone didn’t soften. “Crying won’t bring him back. Do you think he’d want to see you like this? Pathetic? Falling apart over him?”

That stung. Because it was true.

Ronin wouldn’t pity you. If he saw you like this—broken, desperate—he’d laugh. Maybe he’d tilt his head, smile that cruel smile, and say, “Aw, you miss me that bad? Cute.”

And God, you did.

You sniffled hard, trying to swallow the sobs back down. Angel didn’t wait for you to speak—she never did.

“Look,” she said, calmer now, “we’re all searching for him. He’s not dead. He’s too stubborn for that. But he’s not gonna crawl back just because you’re falling apart. So stop.”

“I—” Your voice cracked, weak and small. “I don’t know how.”

A sigh. “....I'll stick around, It's hard- Even I miss him- He's just a little idiotic at times. I want to just punch him the hell out."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut—hard, fast, and too honest.

"Heh, Me too.."

You clutched your phone tighter, knuckles white. The silence on your end must've been loud because Angel exhaled, slow and measured.

Voice softer—but not gentle. She didn’t do gentle. Not for you. Not for anyone. "You think you’re the only one losing it? Misaki hasn’t slept. V’s been scouring every back alley in the city. Even tho he hates Ronin even he knows it's not normal. Even Luca and Felicite are looking, and that idiot can barely track his own shadow."

A bitter laugh slipped past her lips—barely there. "You wanna be useless? Fine. But I’m not holding your hand while you drown in this."

You bit your lip, choking back the ache in your throat. She was right. Of course, she was right. But it didn’t make the empty space he left behind any easier to breathe through.

"Why—" Your voice wavered. "Why hasn’t he called?"

A beat of silence. Angel didn’t answer right away. That scared you more than the anger.

“…I don’t know.” It was the first honest thing she’d said. No venom. No heat. Just raw truth. "But he will. I think he needs time. I guess if- I'll pick you up-"

He always did.

Didn’t he?

Your chest squeezed tighter. You wanted to believe her—needed to. But it had been too long. The calls, the taunts, the stupid late-night messages that made you roll your eyes and laugh—all of it was gone.

And now, all you had were his pets curling against you like they could stitch the broken pieces back together.

“I miss him,” you admitted, voice breaking.

For a second, just one, Angel softened. “…Yeah.” A pause. “Me too. You heard it- Get some sleep."

And then—click.

She hung up.

You were alone again. Alone with the ghosts he left behind, the sharp ache in your chest, and the weight of a question no one could answer—

Where the hell was Ronin?

Angel wasn’t kidding about the shopping.

She dragged you through every store with a vengeance—demanding you try on ridiculous outfits, forcing bubble tea into your hand/

Pinky promises were exchanged over matching keychains—hers a glittery pink knife, yours a black one with a devil tail. "So you don’t mope alone," she’d said, linking your pinkies tight like a spell. “Ronin’s not dead. He’s too annoying to die.”

Well..

Well..

Well...

Well.

You laughed. Actually laughed—too sharp, too sudden. It startled one of Ronin’s cats curled on your lap. It jumped off with an offended mrrt.

And that’s when it hit you.

No. Wait.

That’s when he hit you.

CRASH.

The window shattered.

Something—someone—rolled straight through the damn glass like a meteor on fire and landed in a heap on your floor with all the grace of a drunken circus act.

You screamed. Loud. Undignified.

The cats scattered.

The figure groaned.

You blinked, your brain doing the math and refusing to accept the answer. It couldn’t be. Could not be.

But then he turned over, coughed, and grinned like a bastard through a bloodied lip.

“Miss me?”

“RONIN?!”

You didn’t know whether to kick him or hug him or throw a shoe at his head and then hug him.

He looked like hell. Black eye, bruised ribs (probably), jacket torn like he wrestled a chainsaw and almost won. And still—still—he gave you that infuriating smirk like he just showed up late to brunch, not broke physics and your entire nervous system.

“I—you—you’re—WHAT THE F**?!*” you screeched, stumbling over the cats, your own feet, your own emotions.

But something was off.

You blinked.

The room shimmered—just slightly. Like heat rising from asphalt. You squeezed your eyes shut.

No. No, no, no—

When you opened them again—

He was gone.

No blood. No broken glass

Just the silence.

And the crushing, absolute weight of your own breath in your lungs.

You were on the couch. Alone. Again.

Your phone buzzed from the coffee table, lighting up the dark room.

2:34 AM.

Of course.

You let out a choked sound—half sob, half laugh, all broken. “Cool,” you whispered to no one. “Cool cool cool. Great. Amazing. Losing my mind in HD.”

You probably will open the server now.

and you saw a message.

Goreboy.

Ronin.

goreboy

Well? Did dreams inspire ya? Writer Darlin?

and now you understand.

It was just a dream.

HEY YOU DID GET A NEW PLOT FOR YOUR BOOK NOW/J

This was a dream I had in my vacation...btw

[strawbeii]

ronin the typa guy to get his top surgery done at claire's

[yuukskillsworld]

Clean Cut - Ronin x Reader

You remember that little heartbreak I mentioned like for almost a month? Yeah… consider this fic my poetic (and bloody) closure. For the babes who waited so patiently—here’s Ronin, razor-sharp and ride-or-die, dealing with betrayal the only way he knows how. For every one-of-a-kind soul who's ever been lied to: this one's for us. Let it cut deep.

Genre: Dark comfort, angst, revenge romance

Word count: ~3000

written by yuukskillsworld<3

WARNINGS: betrayal, emotional distress, manipulation, canon-typical violence (implied), blood, murder (off-screen), possessive behavior, strong language

He told you it wasn’t what it looked like.

As if watching him press his mouth to her neck in your hallway could be mistaken for something innocent.

“She’s just... more mature than you,” he said, as if it made anything better. As if that was an apology.

More mature.

More calm.

Less emotional.

You remembered blinking at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

“You mean she’s easier to lie to,” you said flatly.

He flinched. “I didn’t—”

“You didn’t think I’d figure it out? You didn’t think I’d rather hear the truth, even if it fucking broke me?”

He was silent.

Coward.

You walked away before your pride shattered. Before he saw the tears forming, before you broke down in front of someone who didn’t deserve to witness it. You didn’t know where you were going. You just walked. The streets blurred. The lights buzzed.

And then you were standing outside his door.

You didn’t knock.

Ronin opened it before you could raise your hand. Like he felt you coming. Like he always knew when something was wrong.

He said nothing—just stepped aside to let you in. You sat at the edge of the table, next to a half-cleaned blade and a pack of cigarettes. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.

“I loved him,” you said after a long silence. Voice quiet. Flat.

Ronin didn’t speak.

“He said she was older. More put-together. Less… clingy.”

He stayed quiet, but you saw the sharp twitch in his jaw. Like a knife pulled tight behind his teeth.

“She didn’t even know I existed,” you laughed bitterly. “He told her I was just some friend who wouldn’t leave him alone. That I made shit up for attention.”

You looked up.

“Do I seem immature to you?”

Ronin’s eyes locked with yours. Hard. Focused.

“You seem real,” he said. “And he didn’t know how to handle that.”

You blinked.

“I don’t like being lied to,” you murmured. “Even if the truth hurts. I’d rather bleed from honesty than rot from bullshit.”

He nodded once.

“What do you want me to do?”

You hesitated.

Then: “I want him gone.”

You didn’t see Ronin again for three days.

No messages. No sign. Just an absence sharp enough to notice.

And then a note appeared under your door.

"It’s done.

They won’t lie to you again.

Sleep easy, Darlin’."

Your fingers trembled as you held the slip of paper.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t scream.

You just exhaled.

It was done.

And somehow, that was enough.

Two days later, you found Ronin again. On the rooftop where you used to sneak away just to breathe.

He was already there, crouched near the edge, staring out over the dark skyline.

“You look better,” he said without turning.

“You kill him messy?” you asked.

“No,” he said. “Quick. They didn’t deserve to bleed slow. Not worth the effort.”

You sat beside him. Close. Not touching. Not yet.

“Do you feel guilty?”

“No.”

He finally looked at you. “Do you?”

You thought about it. Thought about his lies, her fake smile, the way he looked at you like you were the problem. The nights he called you dramatic when you were just asking for honesty.

“Not even a little,” you whispered.

Ronin smiled. Small. Dangerous. Proud.

“Still want the truth?” he asked.

You nodded.

He leaned in, voice low and rough.

“I’ve wanted you since the first time you walked in looking like trouble.”

Your breath hitched.

“He never deserved you,” Ronin said. “But I’ll earn it. Slowly. Loudly. Violently, if I have to.”

You swallowed.

“And if I break again?”

“Then I’ll put the pieces back with blood on my hands and your name in my mouth.”

This time, you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t perfect.

It was raw. Real. Right.

Just like the truth.

Feeling better already, honestly.

If karma had a switchblade and wore a smug grin, his name would be Ronin.

Thanks for holding space for me, darlings—and for always letting me turn pain into something sharp and sweet. More is coming. Always. I will take every request I have <3

Credits:

-> dividers: @dollywons

-> photo: Pinterest

[your-fave-hates-trump]

ronin beaufort from killer chat 👅

Ronin Beaufort hates trump!!

[npookie0]

Hi there could you do a low iron with reader specifically with ronin low iron got me feeling like shit 🥀🥀

Bad Blooded Darling

low Iron Reader headcanons with That Mf rat <3

yes i Am ronin Fuckers / silly

WHAT DO U MEAN CRAVING DIRT??? (my reaction after my google search)

Ronin will play the hero knight and in the most overdramatic way will catch you when you fall or faint, then he'll tease you about his heroic acts like the asshole my fav lover boy serial killer is

"Woah there darlin', were you tochin' snow or somethin'? You hands are cold as ice." He'd say when you hold hands or your hands make contacts with his, he got used to that but sometimes he'll jokingly comment on it

If your head hurts he'll give you painkillers, block off any sound or light so there'd be nothing to make it worse

He will take over house chores for you if you feel especially weak

Ronin will give you food rich in iron, I love a househusband <3

Ronin will see your doctor with you and go everywhere with you, even shopping, because someone has to watch over you in case you faint or feel much worse suddenly

meow

i love him he makes me sick

>w<

nate

ps. im writing something about my oc luce, but ronin won't be there, wouldja like to see? :3 answer in comments

[hyngx]

HE'S YOUR DEVIL

HE'S YOUR DARLING

(HE'S YOUR EVERYTHING)

very very quick ronin rkgk because i need this man in my mouth NOW

[chanelgrll]

Do you think you could write Ronin caring for a Reader w/a heart condition during a bad episode? I personally get worse during periods of emotional/mental distress so if you could incorporate smth like that if you can that would be wonderful ❤️ No worries if you aren’t comfortable writing this!!

A/N: aaaa ofc! I'm basing this off my own arrythmia episodes so I hope it's similar to what u asked for!

You stay with me, understand?

You’d known this day was coming. You could feel it building, in the way your chest had been tight for a few days, breath shallow, pulse fluttering when it shouldn’t. But you’d kept brushing it off. Too much stress lately. Too much of everything. It's just from overworking, you assumed. Not a big deal!

The server was buzzing tonight, tense chatter about some new body found downtown. You’d tried to stay out of it, tried to work instead, to clear your head. Your mind wouldn’t stop racing though. It felt like any minute everything would break, you were holding on by a thread and you knew it.

And then it happened. A wrong message appearing on your phone, a name you hadn’t wanted to see, at the worst time and your body snapped.

Your chest seized, a sharp twisting pain seeping through your ribs. Your pulse stuttered and then pounded far too fast. It felt like death, your breath caught and wouldn’t come right. No please no Not again. Not now.

You stumbled from your chair, hands trembling, vision tunneling. Curled on the floor in the corner, gasping, tears streaming down your face without even realizing it. No matter how many times this happened, it always felt like death was creeping against your shoulder. The familiar fear built with it, panic feeding the arrhythmia until it spiraled fully out of control.

The sound of a door slamming open barely registered through the pounding in your ears. The beating of your own "fucked up" heart pulsing in your ears, taking over everything. Each palpitation made you shake, wishing you could just sink into the ground and ignore it. You didn’t even know how Ronin had known something was wrong, if you’d messaged, or if he’d just felt it somehow. He always could read your mind, and as much as it could be irritating, you loved him for that. Suddenly he was there, boots thudding hard against the floor as he ran across the room.

“Darlin’—” His voice cut off sharp when he saw you, curled small, clutching your chest, tears streaking your face. “Fuck. I’m here, I’m here—breathe for me, c’mon—” Strong arms wrapped around you carefully, not trapping—just there. One large palm pressed warm to your back, the other cradling the back of your head. He knew about your heart condition, knew how bad your episodes could get, but he never witnessed one first hand.

You gasped, struggling. “I—it’s—my heart—can’t—” The words broke apart between sobs and stuttered breaths.

“I know, I know, you listen to me now,” Ronin said, voice low but so steady it cut through the static. “You’re not alone. You’re not dyin’ tonight, you hear me? You’re safe.” He adjusted you, pulling you to sit between his legs, back pressed to his chest. His arms came around you slow, anchoring you. It felt impossible to witness him like this and compare it to his typical cocky attitude.

“Feel me breathin’? Match it. In... and out...”

You choked on a breath but tried. His chest rose slow and steady behind you, a living metronome.

“In... that’s it... and out... good.”

His voice was a rough whisper by your ear. “I got you. Just stay with me.”

You clung to his arm with shaking hands, pulse still racing sickeningly fast beneath your skin. “It’s—too fast—Ronin—” Terror cracked your voice.

“I know, sweetheart, but you can ride this out. You’ve done it before. You’re stronger than this.” His free hand moved slowly, down your arm, grounding you. His voice never stopped. “You’re here. You’re safe. You’re mine. Nothin’s gonna take you from me tonight.”

Gradually, breath by trembling breath, the pain eased just a fraction. Your pulse stayed too fast, too erratic, but the crushing fear began to loosen its grip. Ronin kept talking, steady and sure, as if sheer force of will could anchor you back.

“Focus on my voice. Focus on my hands. You can lean on me as long as you fuckin’ need, darlin’. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” You sobbed once, a broken sound, but your hands finally relaxed their death grip on your chest. “There you go... that’s it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Time blurred. You didn’t know how long he held you there on the floor, rocking you slow, voice rumbling in your ear. "You're the strongest saint I know, can't have your own aorta killing you... I'm proud of you. Now Let me take you to bed sugar. We’ll keep it slow. You just need rest now.”

You nodded faintly, body trembling. Ronin stood, lifting you easily into his arms.

“Gonna stay right here with you all night. Ain’t lettin’ you outta my sight.”

You buried your face in his neck, clinging weakly. In the soft dark of his room, Ronin settled you against his chest beneath warm blankets, one big hand cradling your heart with featherlight care

His voice whispered through the dark.

“You fought for me tonight, darlin’. Now it’s my turn. I’ll fight for you every damn breath you take.”

Your last thought before sleep pulled you under was that maybe, just maybe, he meant it. And that made all the difference.

[edxo]

Ronin with a mc who goes to sleep wearing the silk night robe and Ronin just wearing a baggy shirt and shorts as a pajamas would be so cute and funny 😭♥️, waiting for someone to write about it 😋

[azialways]

Hey there! Hope you don't mind me popping into your asks, But I was wondering if it was possible for you to Write something for Ronin Helping out a reader through a sudden nightmare? (Ie: The reader just burst awake shaking and crying over a nightmare they had and they're trying their best to stay quiet and deal with it themselves.)

Reason I ask this is due to the fact that I just had a nightmare, and I'm trying my best to calm down at the moment.

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a Nice Day/Night!

oh no! I’m so sorry, those fucking suck. (i’m so mad i had to completely rewrite this because it didn’t save for some reason.

Late nights

cw: PTSD, flashbacks, mentions of death, implied s@ and abuse, violence

YOUR MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS! PLEASE SEEK HELP IF YOU NEED IT. HEAD THE WARNINGS, READER DISCRESSION IS ADVISED

It was another late night, you were at your parent’s house. Your parents were fighting again, like usual. They always did, you wondered why they even got married, because all they do is argue over petty shit. It was dark out, probably close to midnight. You were supposed to be sleeping, but how could you when their yelling was covering the whole house. You peeked out the door, but you were small. You could only see from a low view, but you saw their feet in the living room.

“Just do your damn job woman! I didn’t marry you for fuckin nothin!” He slurred, he was drunk. Probably high too.

“Well I can’t cook for us all because all you do is spend the damn money on crack and booze!”

“Shut up whore! I ain’t no damn addict!” He scowled, then you heard a crack against skin, following by a yelp.

“Fuckin hit me again! I’ll have the cops hauling your ass out!” Your mom yelled, and fuck, was that a mistake.

“Oh i’ll show ya hittin’” He chuckled, then you heard the sound of glass shattering, followed by a blood curling scream. You then heard a loud thud. You didn’t want to go check it out, but that’s how the dream went. Poor innocent you ran to go check on your mom, just to see her bleeding from her head and eyes, her chest barely rising from the beatings. Her blood was all over the wall behind her, as well as on the couch. She coughed out blood, and eventually she wasn’t moving. The phone was on the floor, a voice on the other line calling out to her.

“Mommy!” You yelled, and your dad just chuckled evilly.

“What are you doin up, baby?” He sneered, dropping the beer bottle. He approached the phone, hanging up. Then he went to you, slowly, and you backed away.

“You hurt my mommy! I hate you! ” You cried, and you tried to run, but he was so much bigger. He caught you instantly, and picked you up.

“Oh ya hate me, huh?” He whispered to you, as he carried you over his shoulder. He carried you over around the house. You watched the white walls pass, the various photos of your family hung. They always were so fake, they never looked anything like the painful reality you lived in. You eventually were in another room, it was a different wallpaper. This one was a lighter grey color, with white closets and a black nightstand. The bedframe was black too, and the sheets he threw you on were white, but they hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Your nightgown was off, and then it blacked.

Maybe it was your subconscious trying to block the memory, but you heard the screams and cries, until then you heard the wails of the sirens. You saw the flashing of the red and blue lights, and heard the voices yell from around the house.

There was a kind woman, she said her name was Emma, but that’s not what they called her, they called her “Officer McKennan”

“You’re a little bitch, _____!”

“A useless bitch like your mom! I’ll be back to get ya!”

“I’ll be back!”

Then you jerked awake.

You were drenched in cold sweat. Your heart raced, and your breathing was fast. You panted heavily, and you immediately looked next to you. It was just Ronin, who was still asleep. His arm was lazily around you, holding you close. You hadn’t had these nightmares since you moved in with him, so you thought you were cured.

Guess not.

You had to go clean your face, maybe cool off. So you tried to sneak out of Ronin’s grip without waking him, and once you were out, you checked the clock. 2:18AM. You sighed, tiptoeing to the bathroom, but you then walked on a creaky floorboard, and it rang out in the room. Ronin then shuffled in his sleep, groaning softly.

Fuck, did you wake him?

“Mmm…darlin..?” He spoke softly, his voice laced with sleep. His arm moved, then to realize you weren’t there. His eyes flickered open, to see you stood a few feet away.

“Baby, where you off to?” He asked, sitting up in the bed.

“Bathroom.”

“You okay?” He asked, standing up and walking over to you. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulders. His bare chest warm against your cold skin, it was comforting.

“Baby you’re drenched in sweat. Are you sure? Do you feel sick?” He asked, touching your forehead, before mumbling “no fever.”

“Yeah, Ro im fine. I just…”

“Did’ja have a nightmare?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You responded, reaching for the pair of clothes next to the sink.

“Shit. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asked, looking at you with so much love and concern, it was almost out of character.

“Yeah. It has, I thought you cured me.” You joked, kissing his cheek. “Lemme change, then i’ll come back to bed, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll wait for ya.” He turned away, walking back to your shared bed.

You changed into a new tank top and sweatpants, before joining your boyfriend back in bed.

“You okay?” He checked in, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close.

“Yeah.” You nodded, leaning into the cuddles.

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Ro.”