#This turned a little angsty

[completelyalien]

I had the idea of the brothers sharing their music tastes with each other. Then it turned into this.

In case you can’t read my handwriting the songs are:

-“Black Bear Road” by C.W. McCall

-“Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA

-“Candy Paint” by Post Malone

-“Numb” by Linkin Park

-“Hurt” by Johnny Cash

(Also to be clear, Floyd is happy that Branch has similar tastes in music, not that he’s sad.)

(Also also, I think John Dory would have a complicated history with country music since I love the idea of JD and Delta Dawn being exs lol)

(Also also also Poppy gave Branch the boom box, that’s why is has some stickers on it)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.

[heelkenny]

Blame my ex Blame my ex Blame my ex

[thepixelagora]

I kept y'all waiting for a solid while. One more part to go.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Kofi | Commissions

[maenecoon]

i may or may not have a reverse kidnapping fic idea that i've been brewing up the past week or so -- just deciding how things will go and how i should proceed with some stuff but here's a teeny snippet!

(for context: chay is a low-level gang member that has been hired to kidnap wik. chay doesn't know wik is kimhant theerapanyakun, aka third son of the most powerful crime syndicate in thailand. so that's fun!!)

Chay and Wik, trapped in a three-by-two-meter space.

Soon, the engine starts with a low hum, and the truck starts to move. Wik’s slump figure, seated against the side of the wall, lolls his head toward the metal flooring. Without a thought Chay’s fingers curl around his idol’s unnecessarily-toned bicep, tipping him to rest against Chay’s shoulders instead.

“You're too pretty to get hurt, P’Wik,” Chay mutters, as though he isn't part of the group who’s put Wik in this situation to begin with. Sighing a soft apology, he picks up the rope and starts attempting to tie.

Wik’s hands are rough, the backs of them littered with veins bulging in ways enough to make Chay blush, the soft of his palms filled with guitar callouses and other blisters. He holds them for a few moments, letting himself indulge in the fantasy of itー it's all so fucked up that this is the way he's finding out how Wik’s hand feels against his.

Shame burns bright and hot in the space between their palms and Chay jerks his hand away, moving to grip his wrists instead. Still he struggles to hold them together with one hand as he loops the rope around them with his other hand, fingers clumsy and slow.

[jonathanbiers]

i can't stop thinking about lil teenage tommy hagan and steve harrington doing things that are definitely a bit fruity while they're in the figuring yourself out stages of life. so maybe steve grows up not thinking it's weird at all to want to cuddle or even occasionally kiss boys, or hold their hands, or lean his head on their shoulder while they watch movies. that's just typical friend behavior, he's been doing that with tommy since they were kids and it was never weird.

until it wasn't tommy, it was one of steve's other friends, and they definitely thought it was weird when he instinctively went to snuggle up to them on the couch or whatever. they definitely got very obviously uncomfortable, might have even accused him of being gay or said some vile things to him. so, okay, he gets it in his head that it's not normal, maybe even that it's wrong and bad.

so, he stops being physically affectionate with tommy. he pulls his hand away when tommy reaches for it, shrugs off tommy's arm. pretends not to notice the kinda hurt look he gets in return. when he wakes up after they passed out on the couch during whatever movie it was that week, his head resting comfortably on tommy's chest and the familiar thump of his heartbeat right under his ear, he feels guilty because this isn't supposed to be something guys do but he likes it. but that's wrong, that's what his other friend said, it's bad.

so, he pulls away further. doesn't stop being friends with tommy, but he keeps him at an arms length at best. and tommy gets a girlfriend, and steve is relieved... right? he should be relieved. that's normal, they're guys. they get girlfriends. but tommy's been kind of a dick to him lately, and seeing him with his arm over carol's shoulder, or kissing the top of her head, or her kissing his freckle-covered cheeks, it makes something in his stomach twist. he used to do those things. he wants to do those things still. but those aren't things guys are supposed to do. they're wrong.

they go on double dates sometimes and it's fun. it is! steve doesn't think about the fact that tommy and carol are making out in the movie theater, because he's too busy making out with jennifer, or heather, or christy.

things with tommy are getting weird. he's not being mean to steve, just...vaguely rude all the time. until he starts lashing out, and steve's just confused. doesn't say anything, figures it's probably not his fault, just tommy's own shit. him and carol haven't been doing great.

tommy and carol are on a break, have been off and on for the past year or so. steve doesn't know what fight it was this time. he doesn't really care, past the fact that tommy's upset. they're at steve's house, and they're alone, so they're drinking. to get tommy's mind off of it. steve doesn't know how many beers they've had between them but they're sitting at the edge of the pool, their feet in the water and tommy's leaning on him. he's damn near in steve's lap. would be, if he just moved his leg a little bit. steve doesn't think too hard about why he wants him to. doesn't have time to think about it.

because tommy sets his beer down behind him, tosses it more like, it spills all over the concrete. his hand is on steve's cheek, turns his head, and steve doesn't even try to think. he knows this, it's familiar, it's good. steve's kissed a lot of girls, none of them kiss like tommy. not like they mean it. tommy gets his other hand in steve's hair and steve's arms wrap around his waist, this is normal. tommy is in his lap now, and steve missed that. doesn't get to savor it for long, because tommy pushes him down to his back. tommy's spilled beer soaks through the fabric of his shirt, he doesn't care. this is right.

up until it stops. steve lifts his head off the concrete, tries to chase after tommy's lips, but when something drips onto his cheek, he opens his eyes. tommy is crying, is glancing back and forth between steve's eyes like he's looking for something. he doesn't seem to find it, asks, "why?" steve doesn't know what he means.

when they wake up in the morning, tommy in steve's bed and steve on the floor, he wants to ask. he's got one hell of a hangover but he can't stop replaying that kiss in his mind. he waits to see if tommy says anything. he might not even remember, he was drunker than steve. drunk enough to do things he didn't mean to do, didn't want to do, steve thinks. he wants tommy to have wanted it, though, because something clicked for steve last night.

tommy doesn't mention it. doesn't act like anything happened at all. he's not back to his regular self, but he's back to being the bitchy tommy that steve has known for the past few years, so steve assumes he's right. tommy was blacked out, didn't mean for it to happen. he tries to ignore how his heart aches when tommy steps out the door to go home wearing a change of clothes he'd borrowed from steve.

tommy and carol stay together after that. when they hang out, it's always the three of them, sometimes plus whoever steve is dating that week. steve doesn't get his shirt back, but him and tommy aren't talking nearly as much as they used to, and it's not like he even really wants it back. he kind of hopes tommy will just...wear it one day. like some kind of signal or something. he'll show up to their double date wearing steve's shirt under his jacket and give him one of those looks that says more than words can. says more than steve thinks he's capable of saying in words.

he doesn't. nothing happens at all, until nancy wheeler happens. things are different with nancy. steve wouldn't say they feel right, nothing's ever felt right with any of the girls he's dated, it's still nice. but sometimes out of the corner of his eye he thinks he catches this little look, a little spark of jealousy, but when he meets tommy's eyes directly, it's gone. he must be imagining it.

then jonathan byers happens, and steve says some shit he'd never in a million years actually mean. he's not imagining it then, the way tommy reacts to his words. it's nothing steve's never heard tommy say himself. projecting, he later learns is the term for it.

then it's after jonathan byers happens, and tommy has steve backed up against the door of his car, fists in his shirt, their faces close. it's not like the last time, not like any of the other times they've been this close, but steve can't help it. his eyes fall to tommy's lips, wishes he'd just close the distance. it feels kind of like it's their last chance. he knows tommy won't, and he knows he doesn't have the guts to do it himself. even if he did, carol is right there, they're in public. it's game over for them either way.

[waitineedaname]

a while ago, I had been joking around with a friend about the idea of a shonen hero who's like all about the power of friendship and draws strength from their friend group, but their friend group is made up of minor antagonists, and now that I've watched it, I've realized the show I was looking for was mob psycho. That's literally just what mob's friend group is like.

[methoughtsphantom]

Idea that Danny found himself in an alternate dimension and so when he goes to find his alternate self because this is around the area Amity Park should be and his house, he gets the wrong black haired blue eyed child.

Yep, he thinks he’s deceased Jason Todd, instead of neighbor kid Tim Drake.

Danny wonders wherever it’s his fate to die before he is old enough to drive.

[trexzila]

but Apollo must rise again

[random doodles under the cut xD]

[syrasenturi]

scribbly amphibbies

bonus christmas garfapillar

[daydadahlias]

Deal Breaker

I had this idea and I ran with it :) happy holidays!

Summary: Michael guffaws. “I know, right? Anyway, sorry, what was I saying?”

“That going to a cabin with my boyfriend’s family for the week is a really bad idea and I should fake my death to get out of it,” Calum grunts back, balling up his briefs haphazardly and cramming them into his bag.

or, the one where Calum's boyfriend invites him to a family Christmas and Calum ends up falling for his cousin.

Word Count: 17,055

Pairing: Ashton Irwin/Calum Hood, Calum Hood/OMC

Rating: T

Content Warnings: homophobia & racism

Read on AO3

[cinnamonplums]

some nile, andy, and quynh doodles as kids

[savageboar]

"we need more complex female characters in pokemon!" you bitches can't even handle carmine.

[edns]

After the unification of Fódlan, king Dimitri married Cyrus Bartholomew Blaiddyd (maiden name Lenz). They were happy together, though not for long - the nature of Cyrus's double Crest condition made his body deteriorate very quickly. Dimitri sought the best crestologists out there to cure him from the condition, but it was too already too late. This portrait pictures Cyrus not too long before his passing. Some say that Cyrus's untimely death led to the fall of the Crest system in Fódlan...

Happier ending AU.....part 2?

[gojonanami]

Omg a best friend’s brother fic with Choso pleaseeeeee😭😭😭🫶🏻

writing it right now!! gonna hopefully finish it up tomorrow - I’m getting to some of the last scenes :)

[illmoraineakoi]

So I had a funny idea the other day, and I thought you'd all enjoy it

(Read More bc this this is long)

The Abyss is canonically not as air-tight as PK thought it was, and I personally headcanon the Vessels as having a craving/obsession/hunger for light (specifically the Radiance's; they recognize pale light as “their own”.)

What if PK was minding his business one day, and just stumbles across a Vessel that's infiltrated his Palace? And he's like “Where the HELL did you come from?!” Like he legit double-checks that the door is still sealed. It is. And he’s just so Confused.

And now he's just got this second Vessel that's randomly shown up. That he has no idea what to do with. He only needed one, they're meant to be tools, but at the same time, he can't quite forget the fact that these were supposed to be his children. He can't quite bring himself to just get rid of it, even if it doesn't have a purpose.

He ends up just sitting on the issue, trying to think of a 'solution'. It's fine, it's not even really that big of a deal. It's just one extra Vessel. He’ll figure out a use for it eventually.

A few days later, he walks past both Vessels in the hall – only to stumble a step because "Wait a moment – those aren't the right horns!" And sure enough, he double-takes, and they're not. They're completely unfamiliar. These are two new Vessels.

He's so flabbergasted he actually tries to ask where they came from. And of course they just stare at him. He's so confused.

He's even more at a loss for what to do with them. It's getting hard to even remember to double check if the Vessel he's interacting with is the Pure one. He's stressing out about already accidentally fucking up their ‘hollowness’.

It just keeps happening. The White Lady corners him with a very disapproving look on her face, going "Did you forget to tell me something, my beloved?" while pulling out a Vessel from her robes. Herrah arrives unannounced and plops one on his desk, “I think you’ve lost something, Wyrm. Keep your cursed spawn out of my tunnels.” Ogrim and Isma attempt to stealthily deposit two of them in the ‘Vessel Room’ without him noticing, but the seal work on the door was designed to alert him every time a Vessel left or entered. He doesn’t even ask where they found them, he just looks at them with resigned acceptance and shuffles them into the room.

When Lurrien arrives for his bimonthly meeting to discuss the growing infection rates with a cracked mask and heavily bandaged hands, a tall tri-horned Vessel absolutely seething in a tight bundle of rope, the King honestly just wants to lay down in a ditch at this point. He can't figure out where they're coming from. He doesn't know WHY they're coming to the Palace.

He didn't even think this many had survived.

And he still doesn't know what to do with them all, aside from shoving them into the “Vessel Room”. It takes so much of his concentration just to try to keep them occupied or distracted with something, because if they aren't, they turn to the rest of the Palace, and they are somehow even more of a chaotic nuisance than Hornet was. Nothing was safe; if it existed, a Vessel was going to find it and get into it. And potentially steal it, he discovers after an eventful game of "What are you putting in your mouth--nO COME BACK HERE-"

And then Ghost shows up.

And if he thought the other Vessels were menaces, the King had no idea what he was in for. Ghost is easily the worst of them all, combined. Nothing is sacred to Ghost. Ghost is basically a honey badger: they do not give a fuck.

Ghost is the first Vessel the King accidentally gives a nickname to when he calls them a 'Little Nightmare', a title that Ghost only seems to take on with pride. The King regrets.

The King is beyond exhausted. Trying to juggle the Vessels, training the Pure Vessel, dealing with the increasing number and severity of Infected, rising tensions with Deepnest, the Hive and the Mantis Tribe, and the futile search for some other way to deal withe Radiance that he knows he won't find, because he's already out of options. He's sleep deprived, barely eating, constantly stressed, and more times than not forgets to bathe. He's in a downward spiral, he knows it, and knows he can't continue as he is. But he has no choice. He just has to keep going, while hoping, praying, that he doesn't mess up and doom his kingdom, his people.

And just when the King thought he couldn't handle any further stress...

The Vessels go missing. All of them. They just vanish.

It takes a while for anyone to even notice, but it’s the White Lady who does first.

And at first, the King doesn't pick up on his wife's worry when she tells him she can't find them. It's only when she repeats herself, insisting that they're nowhere within the Palace walls, the guards and Great Knights have looked everywhere, twice, and she hasn't personally seen them since last night, that the implication finally sets in.

The Vessels are missing.

The Vessels are missing.

He's never put together such a massive amount of city guards so quickly before in his entire Kinghood. The order is simple: find the Vessels, bring them back to the Palace. He doesn't understand why his body was shaking so much as he watched nearly every guard in the city leave to search. It must be the stress. Or he just forgot to eat again.

He expected the Vessels to be found quickly. As small and indistinct as they are, they tended to stick together as a flock or in groups. They were also not very sneaky or subtle about their presence, most of them being little terrors on stubby legs, so some bugs must've seen them. They also couldn't have gotten very far. At most, a couple of hours, he tells himself as he paces the entrance hall of the Palace, waiting for news or a team to return.

He wonders how they got out of the Palace, and resolves to find the weak spot and patch it. Without another exit, the Vessels wouldn't make it past the Guards if they tried to leave again. Perhaps he should place detection seals around the perimeter of the Palace...Just in case.

News does not come. Nor do any of the guards return for over half a day.

And when they do start trickling back, they're all empty-handed.

They give reports, of bugs seeing the Vessels, of their possible movements throughout the Kingdom, but the Vessels themselves were elusive. None of them had even caught sight of a single one.

The King is angry, enraged actually. He's also terrified. He feels like he's in pain, even though he's not wounded. He wants to burn things. Break things. Claw his workshop to pieces. He wants to scream, to seethe. To sob. He's so overwhelmed with so many conflicting emotions, he doesn't know what to do. The shaking has returned. He feels like he can barely breathe past the rock in his throat. His body feels oddly numb. He’s only ever felt so helpless when confronted with the Infection itself.

The order still stands: Find them. Just find them.

He's restless. he feels anxious for reasons he doesn't understand. He searches himself, even though he knows it’s a risk to his own life; the Radiance would take any shot she had at him. He scours the Kingdom, looking for even the slightest traces of Void. He finds signs of it all over the place, small amounts, but not a single whiff of the Vessels themselves. He cannot even tell what they were doing, if anything, because they seemed to have gone quite literally everywhere.

Days pass.

With each hour that goes by without any word of them being found or them returning (by the Stars and Fates, does he hope they just walk back through the front door. He wouldn’t even be upset, he just wants them to come back.) the King becomes more and more distressed. More despondent. More hopeless.

The Kingdom, outside of the City and the villages, is not safe. So many viscous, infected creatures that would willingly try to feast upon a tiny Vessel. Food was becoming scarcer; the icy black of their bodies wouldn't be a deterrent, even if their toxic Void would most assuredly kill whatever consumed them eventually. The acids were so caustic they'd easily eat through the thin, small maskshells, leaving not a single trace. So many perilous places to fall from. So many unstable caverns to be crushed or trapped in.

The King wondered if he should alter his order to include looking for any signs of their corpses as well. He cannot bring himself to do so; to voice such terrors aloud would make them unbearably real.

Every day is the same: There is no news. There is no news. There is no news. We have not seen them. We have not found them.

Until suddenly, there is news, but it’s not the news he expected or even needed.

The Infection was dying. Rapidly. Just...shriveling up, into gnarled vines and sunken pustules. The bright glaring neon orange was dimming to a lifeless murky brown. Those ensnared in the waking dreamsleep woke up, came back to themselves.

Everyone was dumbfounded. What did this mean? What could have possibly happened? Did the Radiance...give up? Or did something happen to her? What could possibly affect the Radiance enough to disrupt her power so quickly, so thoroughly?

The entire Kingdom looked to their King for answers, and he had none to give. He didn’t know.

He could only work to prevent panic and hysteria, and hope that someone comes back with answers soon.

Through the efforts to assuage the public’s concerns, the King continues to wait, desperately, for word on his Vessels. In the evening, he waits by the front gate. Watching the bridge, for hours. Hoping, even as he’s growing hopeless. There, yet not.

The King is just about to give up for the night, to return inside, to curl up in his chambers and fall into a restless sleep that fails to rejuvenate or ease his stresses, where the images of dead and mutilated Vessels terrorize his nightmares, when voices call out, alarmed, catching his attention. He turns.

He freezes. Stares.

The Vessels were right there, huddled in a group as they slowly walked across the bridge. All of them. Together. They were there.

They were safe.

They were all scuffed up, splattered in the orangeish brown muk and smelling of ash, nicks and dents on their tiny dirty shells. Some of them looked worse for the wear, being supported or carried by others, leaking void from various injuries. The taller tri-horned one with an overgrown cloak had a nasty crack on it's head, their shortest horn just outright gone. It was messily bandaged, and they seemed to be in pain, but they were alive. Another, with two short pairs of horns on the side of their head, was clutching their chest, limping along with another who was missing half their curled horn.

Ghost supported the Pure Vessel, who looked utterly ravaged. cloak torn and stained orange, a deep crack through their right eye socket, empty space where their tiny left arm used to be. Ghost, Little Nightmare, supported a nasty crack down the middle of their mask, deep grooves in their horns like blade wounds and scorch marks searing their tattered cloak, nail shattered completely in half.

The Vessels stop when they see him, staring back. The King doesn't even realize he'd approached them until he was almost on top of them, staring down.

And then he realizes they were carrying something between them, but they're moving, shifting, spreading apart--

And presenting him with a large blade still wet with neon orange ichor.

A familiar blade, he knew was once attached to the Radiance.

He can only stare, as the Pure Vessel steps forward, dipping a tiny claw into the slowly congealing orange and writing slowly, "We ate the Light. No more sick dreams."

And it hits the King right in the gut that the Vessels had been listening to him talk about the Infection, heard him complain and worry over it. Had listened, and taken it upon themselves to try to get rid of it.

And they'd somehow succeeded. Somehow managed to find, to trap, to fight, to defeat her. Not unscathed, not without a cost, but without loosing any of their own. They’d all challenged a God, and killed her.

Had ripped out her gleaming blade, the symbol and embodiment of her power to cleave through dreams and minds, to take it with them.

To give it to him.

The Vessels push the bloodstained blade into his hands, and he stares at it for only a single second, before dumping it to the ground beside him without a care.

A twitch of surprise goes through the Vessels, and air of confusion and outrage, but he doesn't care; he lunges forwards and wraps his arms around as many of them as he can reach, pulling them tight to him and grabbing for yet more until he’s somehow got them all in his arms. Clinging to them. Burying his face among their stained shells and nicked horns, and sobbing.

Of course he cares about the death of the Radiance. The severity of that will hit him later, after he's had time to absorb it properly.

For now, the only thing he gives a damn about is the fact that his children are all safe, back home. Dirty, busted up, and in a world of trouble once he's done weeping with relief, but alive.

Nothing else mattered.