#sacrifice mention tw

[coreofgold]

@vcndetta: ♫+48 (aloth and gale)

Song: Super Soaker (feat. Daniela Lalita) by Ashnikko

"Runes in the dirt, blood on the earth. . ." Aloth mused, bending down to get a good look without moving anything. "Not enough to be a sacrifice."

[wolfontheloose]

|| Celine & Ryden ||

They finally had a moment of peace and quiet in the back office at the Den, dust and clutter not nearly bothering Ryden as much as they sometimes did because who the fuck cared about dust and clutter right now. They were in a situation. Who cared how much a room was falling apart when everything else was too. At least at moments it felt like it was to Ryden but perhaps he was being a bit overly dramatic about it. Leaving it to Celine to take a seat at the only good office chair in the room, Ryden found another less comfortable one to perch himself on, feeling like he was sitting on pins and needles anyway. Any seat was good right now, since the loss of his werewolf stamina made him feel the very human sense of exhaustion and tiredness which was normal for a non-supernatural but had not been an issue for Ryden for pretty much six years now. That was apparently enough time to unlearn how to be a feeble little human. Not that humans were weak in general - but in comparison to the power Ryden took for granted as a werewolf, it felt like such a drastic level down to him, especially considering he needed to be at his best now more than before. He was being majorly nerfed and at such an inconvenient time too.

“I shoulda seen this comin’.” He said to the she-wolf in the office with him. “That freak that got sacrificed to the green mist back then? He said ‘you will be weak’ er sum shit loike that. That was it. He literally told us. I am so fuckin’ dumb…” Even as he berated himself, Ryden knew that even if he’d realized this before, there was likely nothing he would be able to do about it and question was whether anyone else would too or if they would even believe and go along with what he’d said. In any case, what would Ryden be able to do on his own? He had no magic. He’d spit on magic even if he had it. So no matter how he looked at it, he was useless. And it gnawed at him something bad.

@celinecerberus​

[daydrcamings]

"you just get more and more intriguing, don't you?" grace mused with a grin. there was something about meeting people like this. people so different to those you simply meet on the street. "dude... did you not hear the part where i said he tried to sacrifice me? you really think i'm still married to that fucker? not a chance. besides... he's dead. apparently me being alive and surviving the whole human sacrifice thing meant he had to die. bummer. not. we're divorced. i'm alive. he's not. he's not a problem, dude." grace assured with a chuckle, shaking her head. "oh, they burnt when my husband burst into flames." she shrugged. making light of what happened was her way of dealing with it. "i assure you; he's not in the picture." @springbandit

"Pr-" He cut himself off for a moment as he decided it was better not to answer honestly that he'd likely been in prison most of the time. "Probably on my boat. You've just never sailed my way before." He smirked, quietly congratulating himself on a stellar save. He couldn't believe his luck, she seemed to be exactly the kind of woman he was looking for. The perfect distraction. It was only once she mentioned her husband that he stumbled. "You really nearly had me. I was even picturing a life vest for your yapper. But, a husband?" He screwed his face up, the idea only serving to remind him of his own ex, and how his twin brother had sealed the deal on her while he was inside. "Sounds like you need to let a few more bridges burn, ay?"

[poisonousquinzel]

they deserved better idc 😐

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing XIII

Master list here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bio)

Warnings: captivity, restraints, extortion, mention of death, self sacrifice

Dylan didn’t think the team was ready to face Owen. He wasn’t going to be able to keep a team so weak alive against an enemy so strong. Why now? Why throw all these lives away? What does it accomplish? We are walking into certain death. This is a waste of time.

He couldn’t keep doing this. There had to be an end. This wasn’t the way to end it. He didn’t care if his life ended, but he couldn’t let his team, let Halle, die. He just wanted to be free. Just free for an hour, one more time before he faced Owen. Maybe that’s the point. They know I was out last week. They know I’ve had my taste of freedom and they have to put an end to me.

No. They will never let me go. I am too perfect a tool to destroy. I am doomed to this existence. But I am alive. And I felt alive when I was with Halle.

Halle can’t come on this mission. I can’t keep everyone safe, especially Halle, and fight Owen. I won’t win. I can’t lose Halle. Even though she hates me. I have to get her to freedom. To safety. As he slowly made his way back to his quarters accompanied by three teammates that were not exactly overjoyed to be ordered to do so, Dylan realized that there was no way this mission would be successful. I will get out of this. But the rest of them? This is a fool’s errand. I will not lead them like lambs to the slaughter.

Dylan turned on his heel.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” August asked angrily as they started after Dylan.

To the one person who may listen to me. Or condemn us all. “I have another meeting to get to.”

“Like fuck you do.”

But Dylan didn’t stop. He hurried through Tectus until he was just outside the office door of the one person who may be able to put a stop to all of this. He knocked.

“Enter,” Samuel’s stern voice came.

Dylan opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it softly behind him. “Samuel,” he said as he inclined his head before sitting down across from Samuel.

“You have some nerve coming here,” Samuel’s voice was quiet. He only got that way when he was angry. Or wanted something.

“This is a suicide mission, Samuel, I think you know that.” I want out of this dumpster fire of a mission. Of a life. Put a stop to this.

“What of it? You are more than capable of killing Owen.” Samuel’s cold grey eyes watched Dylan. Watched for any reaction.

“I’ve been capable of killing him for many years. Why go after him now?” Why do any of this now? What do you want?

Samuel smiled, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You always were a clever one, weren’t you, Dylan Merrick.”

“That’s not my name anymore. It hasn’t been since I came here. It’s just Dylan now.”

“Is it, though? How do I know you aren’t trying to stop this mission just so that Owen can escape back to your home. To rally what survivors remain of your long forgotten home and rescue you.”

Ah. That’s what you want. You want me to profess my loyalty to Patricanus. To Scutus. To you. “There is nothing to return to. And I have no love for Owen just as he has no love for me.” No, I had to let go of that long ago. Let go of the person I grew up with swimming in the sea. Eating fresh caught fish on the dock. Watching the stars stretch in an endless sky. Owen is no longer my countryman just as I am no longer his.

Samuel smirked. “Of course there’s nothing left. Your land was destroyed and you were brought here. Who knows, perhaps you and Owen are all that is left of your Godforsaken land.”

It would appear so. What does it matter? I can’t return. “I want something for this mission. If you give it me, I will make sure that every single team member returns in one piece.”

Samuel smiled wide, all his yellow-stained teeth showing. “There’s the Dylan I remember from all those years ago. What do you want?”

“Free me.”

Samuel’s smile faltered. “What?”

“Free me. Make this my last mission. Free me of these cuffs.” Dylan shook his wrists so the silver cuffs glinted in the lamplight. “Let me go and I will ensure this is a success and you won’t lose any team members.” Let me go. After Owen is captured, returned back, cuffed and muzzled, you will have the weapon you need. One you can keep on a leash. And you won’t need me.

“Alpha Team will have a change in structure. They may lose their quarters without you.”

“Convert my space into a full med bay. They’re big enough to need two as it is.”

“And what of Halle?”

“What of her?” Please do the one thing I really want you to do. Fire her. Send her as far away from here as possible. She will be safe. She will be free. She will remain soft, tender. She will forever hate me, but she will be safe. I love her. Free her.

“The only reason we hired her was specifically to care for you. If you are no longer here, we have no need of her.”

Exactly. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. “Then reassign her. Better yet, fire her. You let her go into the field, but she doesn’t do anything except wait. Free me and you don’t need her. Send her home.”

Samuel considered a moment. “I will free you.” Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his face did not betray any of the feelings he had. “I will free you if, and only if, you bring me Owen’s head on a silver platter.”

Of course. Doing so will break me completely. I am a monster you created. You want to be sure I remain monstrous. I am a miserable, wretched creature who does evil things. One last evil act. One more black mark on my already jet black soul. But Halle will be free. Halle will be safe. Anything for her. “I would expect no less.”

“Then we have a deal.”

I will walk into the fire for you, Halle. I will walk through fire to get you out of the fire. You hate me. You will always hate me. But you will be alive. You will be safe. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

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[ringlorn]

That face.

Even if the guy hadn't thrown his fish away, his looks alone would've been enough to grab Nezha's attention. Discarding his fishing pole to the grass below, the lotus prince swings himself back upright, shifting to sit astride the tree limb as he peers pensively down at the stranger.

"That so?"

"Maybe I was fishing for the wrong thing from the start."

He's reminded of the story of Taigong Wang, who cast a straight hook into the water until he caught the attention of King Wen. That man and his son later overthrew the Shang Dynasty for the Zhou, a battle that Nezha himself had fought in on behalf of the gods.

How long ago it all seemed...

"When a sage points at the moon, a fool looks at the finger." Once more he changes positions, this time to face the man fully from the front. "I'm not a fan of being left in the dark, so—" he jerked his chin towards the pond.

"Why not?"

ㅤThe cow's head which had been thrown to the lake in his name fundamentally altered the lentic ecosystem. Previously isolated aquatic life now fed from sacrificial matter, endowing their meat with his ritual's significance and connecting them to him by proxy. Over time, the spiritual impact would dissipate across generations, but he felt the offering's potency continue to nourish unique life in the lake.

Thus did he concern himself with the fishing line strung into the water, his approach startling the angler into performing his work for him. He caught the flailing fish with one hand, unhooked it from the line, then looked up at the man hanging by his legs.

"These fish aren't worth your time." Without averting his gaze, he tossed the fish back into the lake. "You'll find neither the food nor pleasure you seek here."

[weaverpop]

I would think one possible bad fight would be about MKs sacrifice, and him possibly doing it again.

Mk is reckless with his own life, and he loves friends and family more then he could love himself, it's where his over protectivness stems from. (That and his self sacrificial nature is probably programmed into him by nature, fucking thanks nuwa. The THE ONE mother figure mk has and she had to be the one that fucks up a perfectly good child)

Nezha may be immortal but mk would still actually jump in front of a blade for him without hesitation.

Tw mentions of past and attempted self sacrifice

This works very well, afterall Nezha would do the exact same thing because he shares a similar mentality. You don’t just sacrifice yourself for your family without having some issues.

This would come to a head at a terrible time, mid battle with a demon! Mk and Nezha both struggling early on in their relationship, pre-therapy, wanting to protect the other while also bringing down the big bad. Nezha might take a blow that was meant for Mk, and Mk freaks.

He and Nezha get into it. Nezha isn’t that hurt, mostly bruised, but Mk is absolutely losing his mind over the fact that his beloved just got hurt because of him.

Then you have Nezha who is trying to talk to his bf, but mk won’t listen, and they progressively get louder and louder. Until it reaches a point where Mk and Nezha are screaming at eachother in the middle of the battle field, and the fighting just… stops, because nobody has seen either of them get like this. The demon akwardly apologies to the others and leaves because damn this is awkward.

But the two idiots don’t notice, they just keep up the screaming match. Until Nezha has enough, and tells Mk in no uncertain terms that this shit isn’t going to work. He’s a celestial warrior, he can hold his own, and he doesn’t need to be coddled. Mk tries argues that he just wants to protect Nezha, but Nezha stands firm.

They don’t talk for a month.

Nezha is miserable during that time, and Jing teaches him the wonders of growing your sorrows in (strawberry) ice cream and crying into the pillows.

Mk in the other hand is left to think, and with some encouragement form ye others, decides to seek therapy with Sandy. It’s not easy, and the whole month without Nezha is agonizing, but Mk is determined to improve himself before he asks Nezha out again.

After a month, Nezha’s absence was strong enough to motivate Mk to reach out. Nezha was hesitant, but accepted a simple picnic date “to talk”.

It was by far, the most sweetest thing. Picknic basket full of all of Nezha’s favorites, a pretty strawberry themed blanket, and quiet spot outside the city where no one could see them.

They chatted for a bit, akwardly feeling things out, until Mk comes out and apologizes to Nezha for all the hovering. He akwardly explains that he just didn’t want Nezha to get hurt, and that he never saw the Prince as incompetent. That seeing Nezha hurt, even if a bit, was like lighting a fire. But he also apologies for overstepping boundaries, and acknowledges that he is working on the problem.

Nezha himself apologizes as well, aware that he had similar reactions in the past to Mk taking blows for him. He also apologizes for causing such a big blow out about it in public instead of privately, but Mk insisted it was fine, and that it was the wake up call he needed.

Nezha def cries when Mk asked if he’d still be his precious strawberry, and Mk nearly cried when Nezha agreed.

This isn’t the last time, but it’s def a big step in their relationship.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

Look out its a Linkblr Dashboard Simulator!

3 notes

🪶 redwingskies Follow

So who was gonna tell me the Surface is Real, huh? Who.

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

Where are you from?? What....what are you??? ....God?

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Nah turns out she's my best friend though.

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Hey btw, If I kill a god does that make me one? Is there like. Rules for this? Asking for a friend. (Like seriously. I don't care. He does.)

1,680 notes

🚋 train-life Follow

Today's Fact: Did you know Trains are the reason New Hyrule has Standardized Time Zones? As citizens needed to know when to get to a train station, the council lobbied for standardized time that could be applied precisely for travel by train! The entire modern perception of time is because of the Train!

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Thanks, I hate it. Lets go back to living by the sun rise and set.

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

??? We've always had standard time zones??? What are you talking about. Trains didn't invent that.

🚋 train-life Follow

...they literally did. I re-researched this to double check. What are YOU talking about?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Time zones? Like. The era of Legend, the Golden era, bullfish like that?

🚋 train-life Follow

... you can swear you know? I'm 12 not a baby.

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

you're HOW OLD? I thought you were a Royal Engineer???

🚋 train-life Follow

12? It's in my bio?

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

I love you but get the hell off of this website why are you here

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Can we go back to the weirdo who thinks Time Zones are HISTORICAL PERIODS?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Haha yea total weirdo, what, are they like 400 years old or something? Lol

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Actually I wanna get back to why a 12 year old has a job

1,203 notes

🐟 indigo-gos-official Follow

Hey anybody willing to lend me bail money? I'm short like 10 rupees and it's really annoying.

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Wait shit wrong account! Wrong account!!

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Why do you have access to a hyper-famous Zora Band's account??

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Their lead guitarist died in front of me and I am very nice. Now get me out of jail goatman.

23,045 notes

🌳 wildflowerwastaken Follow

.

#hi #i saw a cool bird today #the camera was left on selfie mode so it only got a picture of me squinting at it #the bird noticed the flash and it pecked me until I fell out of the tree #straight into a malice puddle #the bird was pretty tho #so I say my day went great!

2 notes

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Hey apparently I need to update people on my boundaries. So. Here is a list of what's okay:

Hugging

Kissing me

Kissing me directly on the lips

👀

Parasocial relationships where you praise me constantly <3

And this is NOT okay

Hunting me for my blood to revive the prince of darkness

Ignoring me

Thank you, that's really all, I'm kinda sad that this has to be said but clarity is wisdom and all.

👑 princess-of-hyrule Follow

Link. This is not what I told you to post.

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Well EXUSe ME if my boundaries look different than yours!!

25,690 notes

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey pulled the Four Sword again so we need help figuring out who gets to run the blog lol.

Thanks everybody

⏳️ forestchild Follow

Lol this loser doesn't know how to make sideblogs

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

The poll says "Who gets to be Link on MAIN" though, so maybe they do? They just wanna have one person in charge of the first blog?

⏳️ forestchild Follow

The path to truth is unity. Many voices can be heard within one "main".

-The Diety

⏳️ forestchild Follow

...ignore him, I've made him a sideblog and he refuses to use it.

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey wait no let him come back, he's the only smart person I've ever heard

-Green (?)

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

I am going to kill you.

#we have all agreed to not utilize this blog until the poll is complete #so shut up green

10 notes

[one-time-i-dreamt]

The class clown sacrificed my friends to a bunny cult.

[polling-sonic-fans]

Askers notes that would make the title too long:

For revenge, honor, straight up depression, that kinda stuff. This also includes something like refusing to get themself out of a lethal situation knowing they'll die, even if they didn't directly put themself in said situation. I know a couple of times Knuckles from various medias attempt, and there's the hero semi-hero ending of Shadow the Hedgehog, which is why they're at the top, but I'm curious if other characters got anything too

Thanks for the poll anon!

Polls for the Sonic fandom on just about anything. Share polls you like to get more data. Asks and submissions always open.

[ahllohehn]

Ethubs please?

Maybe something a little angsty?

Unwritten events based off HaTO-When does a man become a monster?

----

Etho was dead, or at least, Bdubs believed him to be.

When he saw the demigod of Hades lose control of himself, ignoring all kinds of injuries he was receiving as well as all the last bits of energy he put into his hits, Bdubs genuinely thought; He's dead. Etho is dead.

And despite the confidence he had in that claim, he was terrified of it.

When Etho couldn't scream, Bdubs did. He screamed louder than Kronos had when the Olympian gods had finally returned to finish him off.

That would've been one of the rare times he could meet his mom, but Bdubs didn't even acknowledge her, not even respectfully bow to her, focused on the way he was desperately clawing at Etho's blooded figure and dragging him off to whatever exit is the fastest to camp. He would've considered jumping off the sky to make his trip easier if it weren't for False stopping him.

His first proper meeting with his mother, Demeter had said, "What's with you? He's just a boy."

Bdubs had simply sobbed out, "That's the point!"

Etho was just a boy. He wasn't meant to go up here and play hero. If Bdubs had continued to rudely tell him that instead of being such a softie and instead teaching him to love the world Bdubs lived in so he could selfishly keep Etho, would the ending have been different?

Alas, he had no time to change such things. This was the outcome, and Bdubs was left to cry over it. It was then that the son of Demeter had a dangerous thought; he wouldn't mind the end of the world if it meant Etho could live a little longer.

It's a good thing that the gods had reacted quickly and helped him to the infirmary before that thought would result in anything.

If anyone had seen how Bdubs kept begging to sleep in the infirmary to be able to monitor Etho's pulse, no one spoke.

If anyone had seen how Bdubs suddenly started learning how to grow various healing herbs despite having no use for them, no one spoke.

If Scar noticed anything about his new older sibling figure's tone when he told him bedtime stories of a certain Underworld hero, he spoke of nothing and simply hugged Bdubs to sleep.

Because if anyone were to speak, Bdubs would rather have to die than let Etho be his one weakness to a nth world destruction.

[allthatglxtters]

@ivycovestarters || Location: Piltover

Andras wasn't sure he'd ever been more disoriented. One minute he was a wolf, dying in the woods and the next he was standing in another world, with memories of a life in yet another different world mingling with his real ones. The fae had no idea how he'd come to be here or how he was alive, but that didn't change the fact that he was.

Wandering around this massive city, he'd found himself in Piltover, studying the machines and architecture with some awe. He'd seen other courts before, tall buildings and impressive magic nothing new, but Piltover and Zaun were both dramatically different from Spring.

Andras found himself standing in a large square just, studying a building on the opposite end and shaking his head. "It's incredible, how vastly different the world can be. If this is even the same world at all. Hard to wrap my head around."

[fallenwhumpee]

Heyyy so I've got 2 prompts in my head, neither is really whump but like hey.

1. Two friends on opposite sides of a fight. Like born to be friemds forced to be enemies. So like the 'good' friend manages to capture the 'bad' friend and has orders from his higher ups to torture him and he really doesn't want to so like they talk, the captured guy does still get pretty beat up cuz like he gets it, until his team comes in to save him. And they're lile lets catch up soon, k? Like i wanna explore the emotional side of this cuz like forced by duty.

2. Second in command plays into bait willingly but the team doesn't know that and thinks they were being reckless but it was all planned. His leader was down, along with his sister like figure, and their second main fighter was busy protecting them so he buys time by letting the enemy capture him and have their way with him. Anything can work, drugging, sedation, restraints (pretty please), injuries, whatever you heart pleases.

Ps. How have you been? Enjoy your time off <3

~🐈‍⬛💜

Im well, just looking for ways to be productive here too while slowly getting my works done.

Both are amazing prompts anon! Please have my try for the first one <3

Loyalty

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Mentioned torture, nosebleed, self-sacrifice.

Right Hand was shaking as they walked down the narrow stairs, their boss following right after them. They knew in that they were starting to seem off. They had to prove that they were loyal again. It was also the truth and what they wanted. They needed their team, and they needed to be in this side of the conflict.

But more than that, they loved their former captain, and now it was threatening their loyalty to their team.

What hurt them the most was that Whumpee didn't need to be their enemy. They were playing the necessary evil, and it was the agency's doing. Whumpee was once again paying the price for the flow of things.

Right Hand stumbled, their boss catching them from their collar to prevent them from falling.

"Your mind is somewhere else," Boss commented. "It's not like you. But you should get yourself together before we get to the cell. We wouldn't want a bad impression."

"Yessir," Right Hand answered automatically.

"I can trust you down here, can't I?"

"You can, and you should, sir. I don't think I've ever betrayed to your trust," Right Hand pulled themselves together.

"You did not. But I knew you had an unfortunate history."

Unfortunate, they held back a bitter chuckle. Unfortunate for Whumpee. They were stripped of their rank and team and pit into a position they didn't wish for. Just like Right Hand, only remained one from the former team, thrown into the opposite position. Right Hand could be considered even lucky. At least they weren't shouldering more than they could.

They walked in silence, their steps synchronised as if they had been at each other's side for years. It was wrong because Right Hand's place was Whumpee's side. Being like this was foreign and just... wrong.

Right Hand stopped when Boss put a hand to their shoulder. They slowly raised their gaze and met with Whumpee. They had to hold their breath, not to gasp at the sight of Whumpee's still form hanging from the ceiling by arms, hair damp and sticking to their sweaty pale skin as blood slowly dripped down from their nose.

"Extract as much information as you can before their minions find this place," Boss said to their ear. Right Hand nodded, again a fixed response to orders.

"I will come back to see your progress, but I should report something first. Have fun," Boss chirped before leaving. The tone froze Right Hand, causing their stomach to flip.

"Finally a familiar face," Whumpee whispered. The voice Right Hand once received orders that could make one tremble was now reduced to a weak croak. "The agency must've made a good cleanup."

"How can you be so calm?!" Right Hand snapped. They got into the cell quickly, releasing Whumpee's arms. They had to catch Whumpee from falling like a rag doll, the weight their arms support a lot less than they expected.

"It's good to see you too. But I wish it had been in better circumstances," Whumpee smiled as they held their nose, moving a little to lean back to the wall of the cell. They looked Right Hand with so much affection that Right Hand had to suppress their anger.

"I really don't know how anyone didn't notice yet," Right Hand kneeled next to them, their eyes asking for permission to check Whumpee. "You're not really subtle with your stubbornness to do the bare minimum to look bad or make your minions mess up the plans purposefully."

Whumpee shrugged. "I'm too busy to run a monopoly over the resources to be evil," they said with a fake offended voice. Then they chuckled slightly, trying their best to give an assuring smile.

Right Hand searched for any injuries, but it seemed that no one took a risk by leaving Whumpee to bleed. Right Hand was grateful for it, but the bruises and scars were worrying, along with the thought of what could be under the heavy bandages on Whumpee's torso and legs.

"I can't do what they wish from me," Right Hand confessed without dragging it any further. "I can't... I can't do what they did."

"But you'll have to, sooner or later. Don't feel bad about it. I know you don't... mean it," Whumpee answered, reaching to Right Hand's hand. Both of their hands were hard and calloused, causing the other's to itch a little, but it didn't matter. What mattered was Right Hand had to torture Whumpee.

"Leader," they whispered, their mouth having a bitter taste as they voice the name now buried into classified filed. Right Hand didn't have the strength to ask for forgiveness, and Whumpee's real name between their lips was the only way they could beg for it.

"Don't," Whumpee almsot choked out. "Don't do this to both of us. Don't think me as... as what I am."

As what I am.

Whumpee was still the same person under this disguise, and it was making Right Hand's work impossible. Because Right Hand's loyalty first belonged to Whumpee, and Whumpee truly did nothing to betray that trust.

"One would think we are the bad guys here," they chuckled bitterly, the hypocrisy of the whole situation catching up on them.

"Nothing is inheritly good or inheritly bad. At least what you do has more benefits," Whumpee reminded. Right Hand's shoulders tensed, slowly accepting the inevitable outcome.

"When will you stop sacrificing yourself?" Right Hand asked instead. They heard the distant sound of door opening. Whumpee must have heard, too, because they got to a kneeling position, head down as they pushed their nose harshly, making it bleed again.

It took Right Hand's all will not to react to that.

"I see talking didn't went well," Boss opened the cell door, leaning on the frame. "Please continue with what you were doing."

"Please obey your master little puppet," Whumpee mocked. Right Hand sighed, the tired sound easily could be mistaken as frustration. They caught Whumpee from their collar, slamming them to the wall. Whumpee went limb for a second but collected themselves a little as Right Hand let them stand on their feet, their eyes finding Boss.

Right Hand had never seen Whumpee look this arrogant before.

And Whumpee laughed. Boss pushed Right Hand aside and took Whumpee themselves, throwing the unmoving body to the opposite wall. Right Hand had to hold back a yelp as Whumpee cried with the impact.

"I would make you regret your every action, your betrayal, if so many villains weren't trying to save you or kill you themselves as we speak," Boss snarled. "But I guess I should now settle for your former underling torturing you after you already gone a round by professionals."

"You will be my neighbour in hell," Whumpee smirked.

Right Hand's mind immediately translated, I will see you later.

Boss motioned them to leave, so obeyed. By the time Rught Hand's team got out, a small group of villains were coming towards the hideout.

[mooblesandsoups]

A Disguise (a life series poem)

A wolf in sheep's clothing

That's what they call me

I watch from afar

I Blend with the others

I laugh with the others

I make friends

I bite the traitors

I am but a mere traitor myself

But I have to survive

I have to kill

From 3 to 2 to 1 to none

From green to yellow to red to grey

I have to tear them from limb to limb

I have to finish their remains

I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing.

But I do not want to be

I'm a sheep in Wolf's clothing

People fear I might bite

Fire in my hands that burns to the touch

I'm all bite no bark

I'm an ally to the Wolf's

I cherish them all

I love them like family

I Appear strong so I can protect them

But the Wolf's realize I'm a mere sheep

They strike

And I let them as it was planned

As long as they're safe

As long as they're happy

As long as I won't have to live any longer

I let them tear me apart

I'm a sheep in Wolf's clothing.

But it's all I had to be

[anthromimicry]

you know, i never thought i would say this, but i think misao and one of my other characters (barton) actually DO have something in common. and that is that they are the kind of person to do something extremely risky, like chase painkillers with alcohol, but whenever someone else tries to do it especially if they are one of their loved ones, then they are basically the embodiment of this meme:

and then they immediately try to STOP them like they didn't just do the same exact thing that was on the borderline of being almost self-injurious with how reckless it was. like, UMMM idk whether to just be genuinely concerned for these two or to reacquaint them with the reasoning behind why doing that is SUCH a bad idea 😭

[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.