ronin x reader soulmate au stuff where its like ouhh u feel the pain ur soulmate feels
ronin is like about to kill mc and when he hits them with the crowbar he feels the pain and is like oh wtf...
His heart was long buried next to his lover back in Angelwood. Real and raw romantic love wasn't something Ronin Beaufort chased after, all he chased after was the thrill that spilling blood gave him.
Goreboy didn't believe in soulmates, but what if even a rotten bastard like him realised that his is on the other side of the screen.
This is a story of a coldblooded serial killer navigating through the weird reality he found himself in.
"Because fate was a joke to him and soulmates were a lame made-up concept for hopeless romantics and writers alike."
words [ 5,8 k ]
(send help)
this will be a two parter btw.... (2 and a half actually but shh)
and i will give u the cruelest ad break ever / silly
spoilers to Killer Chat - Ronin's route, soulmate au, soulmates feel each others' pain, mentions of murder and gore
funfacts of the day (05.09.25) i actually considered making this Luce x Ronin but then remembered that this is an x reader ask so I can't just do it </3 heart broken, tears shed
Ronin Beaufort was a man who found the idea of soulmates absurd, a made up phenomenon by hopeless romantics and writers alike to feed into their fantasies. Maybe back in his younger days, when he was just a reckless teenager throwing himself into danger for his own amusement. Back when he had his first love, someone whom he was ready to rip out his heart and offer to as a love token. He believed that he met his soulmate.
Yet, his first love died, killed by the forsaken town. Ronin couldn't exactly say that he accepted his past loss and ever stopped grieving. With Ther's death, his belief in soulmates died too. When they were both in Angelwood, as happy as they could be in that hellhole, he believed that Ther was his one and only. Someone brought down to him by fate. After all, soulmates were meant to share each other's pain and they for sure as hell did.
After their death, the world turned bleak for Ronin, much like late winter with muddy and dreary snow. He couldn't pick himself up for a long time; hell, he's still grieving and mourning them like they died yesterday. Embraced by loneliness and desperation to find someone to fill the empty space in his heart left by Ther, Ronin found a girlfriend; they didn't last long as lovers though. Still, Maria de la Rosa, also known as The Heartsick Angel or simply Angel, was his best friend and he was grateful for everything they had.
Now there was no recollection of considering anyone his soulmate; soulmates didn't exist. And even if the whole world claims that they do, he clearly doesn't have one.
"Ro, you should at least try to believe that you will find your soulmate. Look, even V is looking for his after realising that he shares his pain with another person." Angel's voice echoed through Purgatory. Ronin was on a call with his best friend in the middle of killing another conservative asshole.
He scoffed and snorted at her words. "Angel, Angel, I thought that I told you that it's not for me. The whole soulmate business is clearly not for your favourite psycho killer and you should know it by now." He replied, his voice colder than usual. It was only like that because of the topic at hand. Ronin appreciated Angel's worry, truly, but he didn't need to hear her lecture about a possible soulmate that could be just out there within his reach if only he looked a little.
"Ro-" Angel was about to reply but the whine mixed with a groan escaping the man whom Ronin was cutting open right there and then cut her off. "Ugh, do you have to kill them while we talk?"
Ronin snickered. "Yeah, I fuckin' do. He doesn't deserve to feel special enough to have a one-on-one with your Butcher dearest." He dug his hand through his gut, reaching for his intestines and pulling them out to stick out of his stomach like some wacky decoration. "Anyway, if you only wanted to talk about the soulmate bull, ya should go to Feli. She's into that sorta thing."
"No, Ro wait, I'm serious!" Before the woman could say anything more Ronin ended the call and tossed his phone aside, unbothered by a new crack appearing on his screen. It's not like he can't replace it himself, anyway.
He looked back at the dead man. "Hah, wonderin' if you were into that soulmate bullshit too. Maybe that's what got you into an early grave, jackass." Cutting a line throughout his chest, Ronin spread the skin, creating a perfect opening to reach for the man's heart and tear it out, listening to the sound of veins and arteries breaking.
After collecting what he wanted, Ronin got up and picked up his crowbar. 's time for me to get back and mess with the serial losers. He thought to himself and simply left the scene, as if he didn't just take a man's life.
Back at home, Ronin tossed the organ into a jar and decided to prepare everything for its preservation later. He wasn't in the mood for his chemical experiments at the moment. He sat at his desk, eyes locked on the slowly reviving computer screen. Finally he could freely wander around the dark web.
At first glance there was nothing interesting, for someone like him at least. People sharing their murder stories, black markets advertising themselves, people offering their services for "quick problem solving" that was, to put it simply, playing hitman. There, amongst the endless sea of illegal activity, Ronin spotted an actual weird post.
I'm looking for someone who can tell me about killing someone with a crowbar. Message me privately or comment your stories here.
A dry chuckle escaped him. Is someone trying to be funny? Or is it a cop trying to get information? He clicked on the post creator's profile and scrolled through it for a while. He was met with more posts like this.
How to dispose of bodies without any stains or hints for the police being left?
What's the best time of the year to kill? You'd think that it's winter but I'd rather hear opinions.
Which murder method is the quickest but still the most brutal?
Reading all these questions made Ronin chuckle. It felt like a rookie serial killer trying to find their way around murdering. He copied the address to his serial killer exclusive server and opened the person's private messages after logging onto his burner account.
don't be so obvious smh
You're Gonna Get Caught
[file.exe]
ReceivedKey: k!llrch8t_b00t.mango
here Ya go there's your Key
Whenever you're Ready
He tapped his fingers against the desk and lazily looked at his screen, expecting the rookie's IP address to arrive safely in the server log for him to do whatever he pleased with. And soon enough, just like he expected, the newbie joined in.
welcome newly christianised mc.username
He greeted them as any good server owner would and then letting the server — mostly Angel — take care of the newcomer while he did his digging.
"A writer huh? That's gonna be fun." He leaned back in his seat, eyes scanning the fresh meat's social media sites and other information their IP address helped him discover.
Normally, he'd go out of his way to get rid of them. After all, they posed a danger to his friends (and pseudo enemies) who found their haven within the code he created. Yet, this time the little devil on his shoulder was telling him to keep them around, watch them interact with the serials, and slowly lose themself in the chaos of it all.
"Let's see how far you can go, darlin' writer." The grin that spread across his face didn't herald anything good for the server's first serial-killer-play-pretend.
He walked the writer through the roles and introduction server channels, leaving the server tour to Angel per usual. Watching them make up some serial killer profile was funny to Ronin, especially when he realised that they picked the same roles as him.
oh you Like crowbars too?
damn a Serial After my own heart
Ronin rested his chin on his palm as he watched the "mc.username typing..." appear under the text bar. His curiosity only grew when he read their response, snorting in amusement.
Maybe I need it to finish my collection.
My collection of my dearest treasures.
you'll make me Fall Head over Heels for you darlin'
i Sure Hope your bite is worse than your bark
Ronin decided to take it upon himself to mess with the server's fresh meat; scare them, taunt them, drive them insane. He wanted to see their reactions and he couldn't help but feel curious about how they'd react when killer_shit would welcome new bodies and spilled blood. Would they shake in fear? Or would they feel this foreign sensation of excitement at the sight? Maybe they thought this whole server was just a joke and that's why they haven't left yet.
Ronin was rarely curious about anyone and he decided to juice out everything out of this new found interest.
The first two weeks with the newbie member passed on quickly. They weren't really active, participating only in the strangest discussion, like the one Ronin was reading over now.
y'all don't get it!!!
blood pattern art is THE money making business
Why don't you give it a try then?
if i was as rich and popular as angel maybe
or if i was like a big big name on the web too
sadly i'm just a lil assassin with a dream
Ronin decided that it was his cue to join in and mess around.
maybe You Could give it a chance [mc.username]
what's Stoppin' you?
oh hell yes
that's a great idea
i claim the idea credits tho!!!
Haha, I don't know about that…
I don't think I'm into that sort of thing you know
what style 💅 of killing 🔪 do you 🫵 have then dude 🤔
is it super💣 wild 🤪 and psycho 😈
or for good 😇 cause 🫵
Oh yes!! I'd also like to hear more about it!
why Don't we have a little Group call?
y'know to Get To know ya a li'l better
Ronin knew that he was setting them up. No matter what they wanted to do, in the end they'd have to join the call and be met with all the questions he and the other killers had for them.
A few long seconds passed before the writer started typing, finally giving them a reply:
Sure, I can grace you all with my voice
can't wait To Hear just how deranged you are
I'm ready to become your favourite psycho <3
Ronin laughed to himself, looking at the voice call channels. He joined as soon as he saw more people come in.
"I count six losers in the call and that's a devilish number." He was the first to speak, breaking the silence.
Feli answered with a giggle. "Quite!"
Soon Misaki joined in, followed shortly by V. The attention quickly shifted to the secretive new member. Everyone asked questions, with Ronin of course being one of these people. How could he pass up a chance to hear the fake-killer struggle to create a story?
Unfortunately for him Angel chimed in, calming everyone down and telling them to let the new member breathe. The topic quickly shifted and Misaki started their ramble about blood pattern art again.
Suddenly, all of the killers could hear a chime signalising that someone left the call. "Aw, looks like it was too much for our new member." Ronin said mockingly. Although he expected them to chicken out, Ronin still felt disappointed seeing that they got scared of nothing so quickly.
He entered their private messages, bypassing the "xyz is trying to message you" mechanic that he set up two years ago.
gone so Soon?
what a shame i wanted To Get to know Ya better
He sent the messages just as another idea popped into his mind. An idea he enjoyed quite a lot.
y'know i Thought i read the room right
but Now i'm Wonderin' if i was wrong
and it'd be Better for you if ya proved me wrong
'cause i Don't play around with Interlopers
no need To Pretend that you're not readin' this
He watched as the green dot next to their profile picture turned gray and grinned. "Let's see what's your next move is gonna be, writer."
Ronin didn't have to sit around and wait for long. Not even twenty minutes after his messages to the writer, he got a new message from them.
Are you sure you can handle my truth, Butcher?
Reading their little threatening message made him snicker, but he decided to play along.
oh darlin' i can Handle Way more than just your Truth
Is that your way of asking me for a call?
It'd be cruel to leave you hanging again, wouldn't it?
oh thank you for Caring 'bout Your butcher dear
He didn't wait for their response, opting instead to click on the video call button. Soon their slightly confused, but masked with confidence, face appears on his screen.
For a second Ronin's world stopped, frozen and unmoving. Something shifted within him. Though it wasn’t strong, it felt more like a single quiet tick of a clock. It disappeared before he could even think more of it.
He mentally waved his hand at this, brushing that strange but weak feeling away and turning his full attention to the fake killer.
"Someone's been eager for a one-on-one session with The Butcher, I see." He greeted in an uncanny manner, placing the fake killer immediately into a sense of unease.
The person on the other side of his screen scoffed. "Weren't you the one who called me without asking me if I'm ready or free to call?" They raised an eyebrow at him.
"Aw, but we both know that you would run to pick up, even if you were busy."
"And what makes you so sure of that?'
"Because you're obsessed with me, darlin'."
An angry shade of pink spread across their cheeks and the writer kept opening and closing their mouth until they formed an answer. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"If you need something to refresh your memory, I may just send the whole doc with all your attempts to befriend me and you appearing in a text channel at the exact time as I did with the whole server, darlin."
"Ah," they stuttered and looked away in embarrassment, "No, no–there's no need for that! Anyway! Wow, you look exactly what I'd expect a serial killer to look like."
"Heh, stylish aren't I?" The cockiest smile spread across his lips.
"Yeah, if you're trying to win the Emo Olympics."
Ronin chuckled, an honest-to-God chuckle after he heard their snarky comment. "Hah, you're so funny. Did ya know it?" He didn't let them answer though, instead changing the topic. "So, how d'ya like the server so far?"
They hummed. "It's nice," they nodded, "it would be better if someone wouldn't treat me like a threat."
"Oh? And who could that be?" He raised an eyebrow with that shit-eating grin of his sticking to his lips again. "I have nothin' against you, I just kindly informed you that you'll regret your life choices if you're an interloper." He paused, leaning closer to the screen. "But you don't have to worry 'bout it, right?" There was a tinge of a threat in his voice. Even if he knew that he was the one who put them through this mess, it was still fun to act like he didn't know anything.
Ronin didn't know why he felt so amused by their reactions or why seeing their face felt so.... right.
"Ouch, fuck." He muttered when he felt a sudden sharp pain on his knee, as if he kicked something with a lot of force. But the strange thing was that he didn't hit anything with his knee. Confused, he massaged his knee and looked back at the writer who seemed to be doing the same thing.
"Oh? Is our fresh meat hurt?" He asked, pulling the writer's focus back to himself.
"Yeah, I hit my knee against my desk. It hurts quite a lot, but it's not like I'm not used to getting hurt."
"Mhm, it's as common for me as seeing a bus stop is to a bus driver." They sighed. "I usually start my day by hitting my head against my bed frame, then it's a war between me and the kitchen cabinet door." They were about to list more things, but suddenly they stopped. Ronin saw a strange sparkle lit in their eyes and a smug smile appeared on their lips. "Y'know, it's also common that my victims usually tend to fight back and land a punch here and there."
"Ah, I get it. The ones who fight back are annoying to deal with so you better kill 'em quick if you're not up for a round of weak punches and shouting." Knowing that they're bluffing, Ronin could hardly hold back his laughter.
They talked for a bit more. The strange pain in his knee disappeared before they wrapped up their call, as did the writer's. Ronin left them with a promise of keeping an eye on them and a threat that they better try harder at their little game if they want to stay alive.
A small tip from The Butcher, they should be thankful for it.
Two weeks have passed since Ronin's first call with the fake serial killer. They texted quite often and even called from time to time, mostly on video calls. Ronin didn't think much of the writer; save for the fact that for someone who's whole work was about using their creativity, they clearly lacked imagination when it came to their murderer persona.
During these two weeks, Ronin made a habit of texting them in the morning or sending them voice messages with free murder asmr if they asked him something that would take too long to type out, especially if he's in the middle of killing someone. He couldn't complain about this new predicament he found himself in because, as weird as it sounded to Ronin, the writer fitted perfectly into his life like a puzzle piece placed in the right spot.
He didn't question these feelings though. Maybe they were just someone who he clicked with easily even if he had an advantage over them. Ronin thought that relationships were always odd, so he shouldn't be surprised if he felt so comfortable with a normie in his life.
"So, what secret did you want to spill?" The writer's voice reached his ears.
Right, he's in a voice call with them now.
"Heh, I jus' wanted to tell you what I'm doing, no gut spilling today."
"The Butcher isn't spilling guts? Wow, I should mark this day in my calendar." Their joke made Ronin laugh. "So, what mysterious deeds are you up to?"
"Nothin' too mysterious today. I'm just workin' on somethin' beautiful."
There was a sudden ache on the back of Ronin's head, the pain akin to how hitting a cabinet's door felt. At the same time, when the sudden pain hit Ronin, a thud followed by a thread of curses could be heard from the other side of the call.
"You're doin' okay over there?" Ronin asked as he massaged the back of his head, feeling confused with the sudden pain.
"Uh, yeah! Don't worry about me!" Their answer came immediately and they were quick to change the topic. "So what are you working on?"
"Heh, I'm not giving out any details. Not even to you, darlin'."
After a few whiny pleas, Ronin hung up and posted the announcement about the Executioner Bot's second coming.
That night Ronin went to sleep with confusion washing over him. For a while now, there have been weird, sudden aches happening out of nowhere and for no reason. Ronin did get hurt, of course he did with what he does in his daily life. It'd be almost impossible to not get a punch here and there.
But these injuries were different. It didn't matter if he was at home or at work, he would just suddenly feel pain. A piercing pain on his finger like he just cut through it, his leg would hurt like he kicked something, or his ass would hurt as if he tripped and fell on it. And yet none of that happens. He was perfectly fine, no blood and no bruises.
Just that unexplainable pain hanging over him like the sword of Damocles.
He fell asleep with the intention to ignore the ghost aches. They weren't real so they shouldn't matter anyway.
But intentions alone weren't always enough.
November passed quickly for The Butcher. He spent the time watching the writer's actions, talking to them, testing and taunting them.
He even found a new way to play around with them; a simple truth and dare game. He was in the middle of the round now.
"C'mon, what's the truth ya wanna hear from your dear killer?" He asked, eyes locked on the other person who was displayed on his screen. They were thinking, searching far and wide through the infinity of their mind to find the perfect question.
Ronin saw uncertainty shift through their eyes once they found a question. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting them to be shy about a question. They worked as a journalist, so it's only right he assumed them to be nosy.
"Go on, don't be shy. Ask away."
After his not so subtle invitation, they spoke up. "What's your relationship with Angel?"
That question was unexpected. For a brief second Ronin was speechless, then he chuckled. "Shit, it's that visible?" A blush spread over his cheeks. It was an embarrassing topic for him, if he was being completely honest. His past from two years ago was... something.
An impatient writer on the other side of his screen, or rather their cough, brought Ronin back to the present. "To answer your question, we used to date before. 't was around two years ago, but it didn't work out between us, romance wise at least. We're friends now and shit, there's no better friend than Angel. Even if she herself will shy away and act like it's not the truth." Ronin paused, chuckling at the thought of Angel trying to deny an honest, heartfelt compliment. "She did a lot for me, taught me a lot too. But don't tell her any of it or you'll be found dead fast." The threat sounded both playful and serious, but Ronin wouldn't confirm whether he meant it or not.
"Why did ya ask? Curious if I'm single?" A smug smirk spread over his lips, as if he knew the answer to that question already. Ronin was pretty confident that he could read the writer like an open book and it wasn't just because he had all that information on them.
His question definitely did what Ronin intended. They suddenly straightened, their head jolting up and... Thud. Ronin saw them hit their head on the lamp hanging over their desk, a thread of curses escaping their lips as they gripped their head. Ronin couldn't make a joke or ask if they were okay, mainly because he felt the pain hit him before he could get the chance.
What the actual fuck was happening to him.
As he massaged his head, he took a deep breath and decided to dismiss the weirdness of this situation. He decided to take it as his empathy hitting him. He just felt hurt because he saw them get hit and that's all there was to it.
Still, what about all the aches he felt when he wasn't talking to them? Why did they start appearing ever since he started talking to them?
He dismissed these questions.
It wasn't connected. His brain was just fucked up and that's all there was to it.
If only he could actually dismiss it and keep quiet about it instead of telling Angel during one of their not-many hangouts.
"Ro what if they're the one?" The model asked, moving the pink plastic spoon around her strawberry ice cream.
"Hm?" He only hummed in response, raising an eyebrow.
She huffed. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!" Angel struck her poor ice cream with the spoon like she wanted to stab someone. "What if they're your soulmate?"
He paused, barely swallowing the apple crumble ice cream before he bursted out laughing. "Angel dear, what are you talking about? I thought we agreed to leave that bullshit behind."
Angel's brows furrowed. "Think about it, Ro. You feel pain suddenly when you didn't get hurt and you saw them get hurt on many occasions while the pain struck you too. It only makes sense that they'd be your soulmate."
Even if there was some logic behind Angel's words, Ronin didn't want to hear any of that. Because if he actually listened to her words and gave them some thought, he'd have to accept that his real soulmate wasn't the first person he loved and that'd hurt even more than just accepting that soulmates were merely a myth.
"Nah, There's no soulmate for me. I'm the Antichrist, the Devil, I don't have a second half waiting for me to find them." His tone was half mocking. He truly believed his words. Why would he even have a soulmate if they were sent by the great Heavenly Father himself? Or at least, according to the bullshit he heard in Angelwood.
"You should really think about it, Ro. Maybe it's your chance to finally open your heart again, even if they're not your soulmate."
"Sure, sure. Whatever's gonna keep you from worryin' your pretty little head about me."
At first his promise to Angel was empty. He said it just to calm her down and make her happy without needing to add to her list of men who make her feel like shit. But then he really thought about it.
He thought about it when he put on his white mask. He thought about it when he walked around Uptown, whistling like the streets belonged to him. He thought about it when he sliced a man open and fucked up his insides to create some abstract and gruesome version of art.
The idea of the writer being his soulmate was weirdly... tolerable to him. He didn't hate it, but it didn't mean that he loved it either. To Ronin, it wouldn't really matter whether or not they were "the one". He'd still kill them if they fucked something up in the server or if he got bored of them.
"Fuck this shit. It's not like it's really possible anyway. Angel's just hoping that I'll find someone and be happy." He muttered while he played around with his victim's guts, twisting them around until they created a shape that matched his vision. "It's not like they ever felt my pain either, so there's no connection."
Later that day he sent a picture of his new kill to the writer, which was unusual for Ronin because he never provided a private murder show off to just anyone, with maybe the exception of Angel from time to time. This sudden change shook up Ronin's world, even if just for a second, before he dismissed it again.
His world had no place for soulmates or questions that were toeing around that area.
Still, even with that in mind, his conversation with Angel and sudden changes in behaviour did something to him. He kept on talking with the writer, daring them to send him their kills, hearing their secrets and sharing pieces of his.
Maybe having a soulmate like them wouldn't be so bad.
What the fuck is he even thinking.
Hey, give me a murder live broadcast
Pretty please with a cherry on top
Ronin barely woke up when he saw that message. It was the middle of December and his mood was definitely worse than usual. ‘Tis the season, after all.
Even if his mood was so-so, Ronin just wanted to indulge the writer's little desire. Especially if he could lead them closer to the dark side.
heh what is That Your dream christmas gift?
you happen to be On the Naughty list
and this santa claus Gives gifts To the Naughtiest Losers
be Ready for your 1:1 murder stream soon baby
With a promise like that hanging up in the air, Ronin felt like this Christmas would be a bit more bearable than usual.
He didn't give them a time or day for the murder call, not like he had to. Ronin knew that the moment he'd call them, the writer would pick up immediately. Even if it was just for their usual chit chat. He smiled at the thought of seeing them wag their non-existent tail at him and then probably hit their head against something for the fourth time that day.
That clumsiness of theirs was annoyingly adorable to Ronin.
If only he knew how dangerous it actually was.
So one particularly cold December night, he called them. As expected, they picked up immediately. He put his phone against one of the dumpsters and crouched in front of it.
"So," he started, leaning his forehead against his crowbar, "are ya ready for the show, darlin'?" The question was daring. He was checking if they'd chicken out when they saw him in his full murder-ready glory.
They only smiled at him, squinting their eyes to make out his silhouette in the dim street light that barely peeked into Purgatory. "If I wasn't I wouldn't pick up, now would I?" Their snarky response earned them a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah. We'll see how confident you'll be when I'll fuck up someone's head in front of your pretty little eyes." He stood up, putting a finger to his lips to shush them. Someone was coming.
A man entered the alley, moving from one side to the other in a very clumsy motion. Ronin wasn't picky about the innocents he killed, especially when they’re just begging to be killed when entering the lion's den on their own.
He hid in the shadows, looking at the man like a predator looking at its prey. Not even a second after the man walked right past him and into a perfect view for his death's only witness, Ronin snuck behind him and kicked him in the back, causing him to fall with a loud thud and a groan.
"What the fuck?!" The man shouted, anger boiling in his eyes. "Are you looking for a fucking fight?" He sat up quickly, though he almost dropped to the ground again with how drunk he was.
"Nah, but you're askin' for a dance with death." He pushed the man to the ground again, holding him down with his foot pressed against the man's stomach. "Now, how should I kill you?" He mused out loud, looking down at the man with a sadistic glint in his eye.
"You freak- you won't do anything to me!" The man screamed, spitting at Ronin but missing miserably.
That pathetic action made Ronin laugh as he crouched, putting more weight on the foot pressing on the man. "You're funny. Too bad you won't make a future as a comedian."
The man tried to struggle under Ronin when he raised his crowbar up in the air. Waggling his legs around pathetically and trying to kick him off. Ronin laughed at him. He couldn't tell if the man was too stupid or too drunk to realise that he could use his arms to push him off.
Ronin tapped the man's cheek with a shit-eating grin stuck to his face. He needed to turn this kill into a show and he wanted to make it as fucked up as he possibly could.
A loud thud echoed through Purgatory when the bloodied and rusted crowbar made contact with the ground after Ronin dropped it. He threw one leg over the man's lap, straddling him and keeping him down. With slow and precise movements he reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a knife, his black eyes shining in the blade's reflection. He dragged the knife from the man's face down to his stomach–it looked almost like a caress if it wasn't for the obvious, murderous intent burning in his eyes like hellfire.
Panic grew on the man's face. He started struggling even more, kicking his legs aggressively. He seemed to remember that he had arms when Ronin was cutting through his shirt, the cold blade almost breaking through his skin. He threw a punch to Ronin's face, hitting his jaw which caused Ronin's head to jolt back. But he didn't move, he just smirked, ignoring the pain like it was nothing.
A punch like that wouldn't distract him. Hell, it would make him even more blood thirsty just because there was a fight involved. Yet, hearing a distant "ouch" from his phone that was so close to him and seeing the writer rub their jaw in the exact spot when he got hit did something to him. His world stopped and his mind was flooded; confusion, denial, a silent voice whispering that maybe accepting Angel's idea wasn't bad after all. He was torn away from his thoughts only when the man pushed him away and stumbled back up, grabbing a stone from the ground and throwing it at Ronin. He was too slow and didn't miss it; it hit his head.
He couldn't stay in the castle of his mind for long though. That asshole was about to kick him — a mistake on his part really, because Ronin grabbed him by his ankle and twisted it. The man dropped to the ground with a whine and Ronin decided that it's time to end the show before it even started. With his crowbar back in his arms, Ronin made quick work of the man's legs, massacring them with a menacing precision. He didn't have time for games, his mind was jumping between the adrenaline of killing and a realisation he didn't want to acknowledge.
The kill wasn't what he wanted it to be. It wasn't precise, it wasn't controlled. It was a mess and, even if he liked his kills messy, this one didn't satisfy him.
"I gotta go." He said to the writer once he reached his phone, looking at their background instead of them.
"Sorry, darl." He cut them off. "The Butcher's a busy man too. I can't give ya all my time or you'll get bored." He'll try to play it off, a flirtatious smirk, a wink. Anything just so the person on the other side of the phone wouldn't notice that them feeling the pain they didn't understand tore Ronin up.
He hung up. No goodbyes, no nothing. Silence filled Purgatory as a deafening buzz of voices echoed in Ronin's mind. He was so confused; he had no idea what the fuck was going on.
He knew exactly what was going on.
He just wanted to lie to himself and everyone else to keep his beliefs intact. Because in the end, the truth didn't matter.
Fate, or any other bullshit, wouldn't change anything in Ronin's decision when it comes to the writer.
And if he has to kill his soulmate one day? He will do it with a smile.
Ehe... LISTEN I know it took me a while BUT I wanted to make it good and not half assed (not that any of my other works are half assed of course) and well you can see that I definitely made it a tad longer than usual..... only a bit tho!
it's almost a year since i've been posting on this account and for this fandom..... damn time sure flies
Anyway! I hope that you guys likes the 1st part because I enjoyed (even if my inspiration was running like a nosebleed (idk if this saying works in English but it is Polish) and it took me much longer than it should've) writing it and can't wait to start the second part :D
I dunno when I'll post it cause I start collage next week on the 1st of October so updates also may come out slower but I'll try! Also I don't know how much of my future works will be about rosesrot's games/characters cause I also want to write for other things like KPOP fandoms I'm in - I already have 3 fanfic ideas. But! I'm for sure going to write about Bloodlust.exe once it comes out! I love vampires especially the ones who turn from enemies to lovers :>
Await the second chapter that may show up sooner or later while I will be joyously enjoy joggling eight fanfics at once teehee
gummygunk
stormborns
pixelskylines
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
