#RUU

[dailyfigures]

Uruha Rushia ; Hololive ☆ Good Smile Company

[ukgk]

■ No.70 NAME : 丼草 / TIME : 2006/03/11 (Sat) 02:13 ■ No.73 NAME : 丼草 / TIME : 2006/03/11 (Sat) 23:10

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact | 4.6 Quest Avatars (1/5)

Download Link (Google Drive)

[kipper7]

some doodles for this trying, trying time

I drew rejuvenated/juvie spinel

[lowcountry-gothic]

Star Wars: The High Republic Adventures: Dispatches from the Occlusion Zone #1, 2, and 3, by Jake Bartok.

[transmasculine]

alt:

canon/implied asexual characters!

andy, gwendolyn “gwen” poole, isaac henderson, lilith clawthorne, parvati holcomb, perry the platypus, ruu, seiji maki, spongebob squarepants

bonus: silvia severin that didn’t fit

[ultimategenshintournament]

Ultimate NPC Tournament: Round 3

Propaganda below cut

Osse:

WE CAN PET HIM!!!!!! Talking cat Gave us information and helped us Saved our lives

Ruu:

he had so much potential to be a great complex character if they didn't force every NPC to like the traveler

[purrfaito]

Ruu before everything went downhill in his life https://t.me/purrfaito

[curlyquest]

What if Hanachirusato,Ruu and Hanyuuda Chizuru were playable? (Hanyuuda Chizuru did not need to be desinged so well just to be an npc)

[thevideogameshutterbug]

Meanwhile, In Genshin's Story...

Aaaand, we're adding Mausau / Xbalanque to my list of NPCs I'd like to see someday become playable characters, alongside Ruu, Nechca, Jeht, Timmie and Rana. Make him a hero version of Chris from KOF.

[florizzia]

Ruu teria amado esse lugar. [Ruu would've loved this place.]

[cohmacvitusstanartbackup]

THR Pride Month 2024 drawings 1-4!

[ffeatherisffeather]

[idkstuffiguess]

My favorite genshin au is everything is the same except Ruu is also there

[the-gg-archive]

TO-YA (투야)

2001

[their-dearest]

The day he met his demise.

[Tw: death and mentions of blood and injury.]

It was quiet. Too quiet, save from the deafening gasp leaving his mother's lips. Each passing second is gnawing upon Ruu's patience and, soon, his sanity.

How much longer does he have to play the part? Days? Months? Years? Maybe centuries? Spirits, he lost track of every moment.

All he knows is that this cycle happens every three days.

If only he had joined his dearest friends, maybe he would have at least gotten to—

"Ruu," his father—no, Grandpa Mata called upon him—"The Thunderbird awaits you."

Those words, no matter how many times it reaches his ears, never fail to make his throat dry.

He tried to find some response, anything, but all of them slithered underneath his tongue. And when his eyes met his father's, he couldn't help but notice how his eyes glistened under the dimming sky.

Are those tears?

No, his father was never the one who wore his heart on his sleeve. Always so distant and unwavering just like the fog Thunderbird blessed Tsurumi. And yet, in that moment, he saw a side he had never known existed. Vulnerability and humanity.

After all, his father bleeds the same shade of crimson as him.

"Yes, Grandpa Mata."

The boy nodded, pulling his coat around himself with his trembling hands. It wasn't even cold in the slightest, and yet the very atmosphere sent streams of sweat to trickle down his forehead. With each step he took, his knees would tremble under his weight, until one particular pebble makes him lose balance for a second.

He braced for impact, but it never came.

Ruu's mother, Sak, rushed to his side, cradling his form before his knees met the brash cobble. Her hands, often soft and gentle, held on his shoulders with an iron grip, fearing that if she'd let go, he'd lose her too… just like the children before him.

"You don't have to do this, please. Please, let's return home, Ruu." His dearest mother bargained. Each syllable was shaken with desperation and stained with grief for what's to come.

"My boy, why must you sacrifice yourself?"

Why did he have to die? He never wanted to die. No one does. But if it'll make the island a better place… he's willing to be that sacrifice.

Her indigo hues met his own, and for once in a long time, his mind was silent. It was like staring at his mirage, a glimpse of what he could've been—sharing the same azure locks and the same fickle hope in their eyes.

"She chose me for a reason, Mom."

His frail yet calloused fingers grazed hers before setting her arm to her side, "Please, let me do this for you. For all of us."

Her shoulders went limp.

Ruu's heart faltered, along with the remaining hope in her mother's eyes. She took a step back, then another, until she resided in her spot by the altar's base, along with the village women.

Each flock to her way, offering ounces of solace to her grieving heart. But none can soothe the flood of tears cascading down her face.

With a quivering sigh, the boy turned his back and dragged his feet to the altar. He has done it countless times, each moment ending the same. But the blade slashing his tongue doesn't sting less, nor does the blood taste any less vile. And her resignation didn't hurt any less.

There it was. That Makiri resting on his father's sash. Ruu knew that blade far too well.

His feet move on its own, taking a small, yet rehearsed step forward. He remembered wielding that very carving knife when he was half his age as he cut through the flesh of a small rabbit, his first hunt, all while his father guided him through the entire process.

And now, that very knife has been and will continue to carve against his flesh.

When Ruu found his way to the top, his gaze lingered on the golden goblet to his left. The mere sight of it made his knees tremble. Was it out of fear or exhaustion? Perhaps so, perhaps not. But he paid no mind as he laid his back against the cobbled altar. His eyes drift to the skies once more, specks of magenta, scarlet, and ashen gray swirled together to form a maelstrom of colors, a symbol of Her Thunder.

Ruu took a few deep breaths, relishing the way his lungs would rise as he let the weight of his eyelids take over. His father's footsteps echo with the cobblestone, each step grew weaker than the last. And soon enough, his shadow loomed over his head. His small hands balled into fists as his nails dig through his coarse skin.

For what's the point of watching if he knew what's to come?

A droplet. Then, another.

When the boy opens his eyes, his eyes widen at the sight above him.

Tears? Is he seeing things?

His father, Grandpa Mata, weeps above him. The every-stoic man, the face of their tribe, is reduced to a mourning man. His hand trembled at the handle of the carving knife as every teardrop fell against Ruu's cheek. Every breath he took was a laboured one, as his shoulders quivered.

He cries on his son's behalf.

"Grandpa," His voice wavers ever so slightly. But his words are met with silence. And so, he continued. "Grandpa, please, don't cry."

Ruu's hand gripped his trembling limb, guiding the glistening steel to his lips.

"I believe in you," his voice trails off before he can even finish, “Dad.”

As Mata took a deep breath and tightened the knife in his hand, Ruu's heart raced. He knew that the first cut would hurt the most. The pain would be unbearable, but he prayed that it would also erase the burden of his people.

Mata's hand trembled as he raised the knife. The boy closed his eyes and breathed through the anticipation. One final, calm breath before the agonizing storm. With a quick swipe, Mata made the first incision on his tongue, and Ruu felt a flash of intense pain. He winced and clenched his hands as tears streamed down his face.

The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was searing and sharp, as if someone had taken a hot blade and sliced cleanly through his tongue. But that is far from the case.

He felt an intense aching in the area where his tongue had been split. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and he could feel the crimson, coppery liquid running down his throat, while salty tears flooded his chin.

But even through the agony, Ruu felt a shred of hope. The sacrifice had begun, and he prayed it would grant his people a second chance.

He would make this sacrifice over and over again if it meant regaining Her gaze once more.

Splash!

At the seventh slash, his tongue plunged into the pooling blood in the golden goblet.

Ruu's tongue, flesh and blood, stared back at him mockingly. The sanguine-tinged liquid waves in a nauseating manner, and spirits, it burns throughout his mouth. His senses dulled as the warm blood seeped from his lips and all the color bleeds from his face.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Please, make it stop… I don’t wanna die anymore.

Ruu is fading fast. His vision clouded, and his mind was heavy. Panic rose in his chest like the inferno oozing from his mouth. The world began to slip away, and the last thing he remembered was the burning sensation in his throat, rising, rising until it consumed him completely.

The weight of the world rested on his eyelids, as exhaustion took over him. In his last moments of clarity, the boy's mind wandered on one thought, all while his indigo hues met his mother's.

And a boy named Ruu took his last breath.

It was quiet, too quiet, save for the wailing of a grieving mother.