#warrior met

[thunderc1an]

how to love a stranger

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt : you know the joke where people refer to their cats as their roommates and you get sentences like my roommate ate my pet gold fish or my roommate bites me in the leg when he wants attention but it is just shadow and four and the chain just assumes that four has a cat because what sort of lunatic would eat a pet

Four : My roommate tried to suffocate me by laying on my face when I sleep

Twilight thinking that four is talking about a cat : your roommate just wants to be close to you mine does the same thing I just move him to my chest

Four : he can’t lie on my chest he is way too heavy for it and I am like the same size

Twilight still thinking that four has a cat : that sucks I suppose

Or

Four thinking that twilight also has a shadow living with him because of the dark magic he is involved with : does your roommate stare at you while you sleep from high places

Twilight still thinking about cats : definitely but they all do that because they can protect you better if they can see everything so they go to high places

Four thinking that twilight is a shadow expert: oh , that makes sense now thank you I guess I have to thank him now

Twilight still NOT getting it : mine likes head pats but everyone of them is different

Or

Four : should I get him a something to see him better t because he is as black as the void and during night I sometimes trip over him and then he gets offended because he thinks I do it on purpose

Twilight: you might be on to something here maybe I should do it to

Four : also he keeps running around when it gets dark and he also keeps breaking things because of that

Twilight : those are called getting the zoomies they happened mostly at night because they are nocturnal creatures and usually mean they are excited about something

This continues for weeks till four basically knows everything about cat behavior and what they mean

And when he gets home (the chain was forced to rent rooms at an inn because his grandpa's house isn’t big enough) the first thing he does is pet shadow and tell him that he is thankful for trying to protect him during the night

Shadow straight up melts about it because he never got any praise or attention for his hard work

Twilight who learned a ton about shadow expected a black cat that four found in a random ditch and then rescued from his past owner Vaati who treated him poorly

He did not expect an actual hylian looking demon who is currently getting head pats and melting under them (no literally he is liquified from them)

Maybe something was lost in translation but who cares about that now

Because he was off help at least

[loafbud-wc]

They say to never meet your heroes...

[mommyclaws]

Warrior Cats as a whole sucks in pretty much every single aspect but there is not a single day that goes by where I am not in awe of the artistic and creative community around it. Before I even read the books what inspired me to start making art was seeing small channels posting warrior MAP parts. Everyday in this fandom, I find a new artist I like or another animation with hours and hours of effort put into it. Isn’t that so awesome

[tragediambulante]

A young warrior, Tullio Lombardo, 1490s

[missallanious]

Oku feels like the healer in the new village he’s in has it out for him

Josuke does, but not in the way Oku thinks ((he’s horny))

[lizzylucky]

Draxum hadn't accounted for the fact that when he gave four hatchling turtles the DNA of a human being in order to give them greater intelligence, he would effectively be making himself a surrogate father to actual children, with wildly different needs.

When he sent his gargoyles to obtain a sample of DNA from Big Mama's prized warrior, the intention was to create his own. They were to be the prototypes for an army of simple creatures with just enough heightened intelligence to learn combat and follow commands, that he might defend Yokai kind with.

Instead, he quickly discovered the integration of human DNA had been a little over successful in allowing his test subjects to learn and think and feel in a civilized manner, going so far as to override some of their natural instincts as turtles that would otherwise allow them to learn to care for themselves. He had to feed them, by hand, with bottles.

Like infants.

They were easily distraught by unfamiliar things, and quickly became dependent on Draxum in every sense of the word. They babbled, they cried, they explored things with their hands, their tails, their mouths.

It was an unplanned adjustment needed to be made, but no matter. If anything, learning to understand the new hybrid emotions of these turtles would allow Draxum greater advantages when they grew enough to safely learn combat. Preferences, likes and dislikes, needs, diet, and so on, all became more complex areas of study.

Even a couple years in, he found himself continually surprised. Brain scans had shown that the turtles were more intelligent, still, than anticipated. They, truly, seemed more human in mind and function than anything else, with only some base instincts and behaviors left to influence their personalities. They retained many reptilian traits, but overall had the bipedal anatomy and function of humans and some Yokai. It had been an infuriating discovery at first, but Draxum had to admit that over time he became fond of it.

Each turtle had developed his own personality. The eldest, for example, had a love of plush toys, and showed a fierce protective instinct over the others. The youngest, Draxum had learned, was contrastedly reckless and excitable, not nearly so reserved or gentle as the first. Additionally, he was, decidedly, to be kept away from any and every writing utensil unless under strict supervision (unfortunately, this was learned a little too late, as was evidenced by the clear markings left in several work benches). Then, of course, were the slider and the softshell, who had the most bizarre relationship. They were constantly fighting with each other, but utterly inseparable, and each showed an incredible and unique curiosity, constantly exploring and watching and studying, with concentration filling their eyes in ways Draxum had never seen in other children so young.

Embarrassingly, it took another couple years before Draxum realized he couldn't simply refer to them by their species' names. It certainly was effective, but they were not the mild, simple creatures he had once expected them to be, and he knew that they never would.

Now, they were vocal, playful, inquisitive... energetic. By the gods, were they energetic. They never stopped moving, never stopped talking, never stopped eating, never stopped wanting or needing.

...This is why Draxum never had children of his own. It took all the time and energy he had to spare, and then some. Although it would be a lie to say he wished they were any other way.

They had so much capacity to learn, and with their emotional propensity could one day come to understand exactly why Draxum was doing this, which he knew would be an edge in their combative styles.

As he introduced them, slowly, to more of the world's culture and knowledge, he felt, in a new way, that their very existences were revolutionary. A perfect, synergistic unity between two entirely different families of genetic material, with numerous enhanced abilities. And they were children. They maintained all the properties of regular children, but had so much more in store! Such grand destinies! They would be, inarguably, the greatest warriors of their time when they were grown. They would be the compassionate, skillful heroes of all Yokai, the first of a new generation of super mutants, and the key to overcoming the evils of the humans who had overtaken the surface and posed such threat to all who lived below.

It was with great reluctance that he allowed himself to accept, however, that not all of mankind was evil. There were many forms of art, beautiful in different ways, there were some rare people filled with kindness, inventions that utilized resources in ways Yokai kind had never thought to. Perhaps he had been a little stubborn in his ways, a bias cementing over time that blinded him to some of the beauty that did yet exist in such a species.

Make no mistake, humans were a threat. Innocent families lived in fear, in hiding, of the governments and ruthless sciences designed to invade, to blaspheme the name of knowledge, with no regard for the safety of this people.

Draxum could live with being an outlaw to the Yokai if his experiments would lead to their salvation. He may be their villain in today's papers, but in history books he would be a hero.

Still, he wished to amend some of his practices. Even if only to his turtles, he would be known for his ability to change and understand. He would be fair, and he would be truthful.

And so it was that he told the turtles the nature of their existence. Perhaps he muted some of the details, to protect their minds until they had more understanding, but he would not lie to them about their DNA. He told them of Lou Jitsu, and their human genetics, and he begrudgingly allowed them access to the culture of the humans. He would let them choose their interests unbiased.

In the process, he came to know of some of the revolutionaries of human history. Though he wasn't particularly inclined to believe there were no evils involved, he was intrigued by the strange moral code that the humans boasted from their different time periods. The turtles, as well, were fascinated by the stories of war heroes and generals, seamstresses and inventors, artists and royalty.

Initially, when it came time to redesignate his turtles, Draxum had been inclined toward the names of those whose legacies persisted in the humans' culture even today- perhaps a president for the slider, a scientist for the softshell, a great general for the snapper, and an artist for the young box turtle. It seemed, somehow, clandestinely right; carefully considered to exemplify each of their personalities.

And although he had begun to get used to the possibility of names like "Monroe" and "Edison", his indecision on the matter seemed to be working against him. He was taking too long, and the boys were growing smarter.

It was a day in August, later that year, that he found his two youngest arguing over a Renaissance book, oddly enough. The elder two took to a game of knocking "secret patterns" on each other's carapaces, which he dismissed before he could allow himself the confusion that came with wondering why a five year old would want to knock on a spiked shell for fun.

After breaking up the fight and confiscating the book (which, as it turned out, the youngest only wanted because it had pictures in it, much to the chagrin of the other, who insisted that reading it was much better than just looking at the pictures), Draxum found himself idly flipping through pages of rustic images and rudimentary ideas, developed by people with strange names.

Maybe he was simply too tired to consider it properly, but, feeling defeated in his endeavor, he chose four names at random and assigned them to the young turtles, deciding it had been long enough.

It took a while to get used to, but soon "Raphael", "Leonardo", "Donatello", and "Michaelangelo" truly fit.

Over time, the boys grew... ravenous. They devoured everything- food, information, technique. They were learning quickly everything Draxum taught them. They practiced with Huginn and Muninn, leapt up, around, over, and through everything in the lab, and took special interest in action-filled films.

And Draxum grew fonder. He wasn't entirely surprised, of course; it's natural to develop some sense of sentimentality when caring for anything this long. Even if they had been the simple minded turtles he expected, he knew this was inevitable, to a degree.

What startled him was the sudden sense of fear that came with watching them train. The alarm that made his heart beat harder when one of them fell from somewhere high or any time they ran simple drills with weapons not blunted and made from wood.

He subtly began to intensify their defensive strategies, taught them where they were most vulnerable so they could protect those spots, insisted on perfecting their abilities to parry, block, and dodge before anything else.

And, over time, he found himself training them less often than before, thinking, "I must preserve their innocence and prolong their childhood experiences". After all, it was an essential part of development, was it not? If it were tarnished too much, they might become unwise or unjust as warriors. And, really, Raphael was only 8 years old, and he was the eldest; they were much too young to be exposed to the harshness of what their combative training was really for.

He told himself that, time and time again. He told them that, making certain they understood that their training was not a game. It wasn't untrue, certainly.

Really, he just wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to admit to what extent he cared about them, because it was too much. It was more than he could ever have been prepared for. It was more than that passion to protect Yokai kind ever was, and if he ever realized that, he might become the compromise to his own purposes, to the very reason these turtles exist this way to begin with, and then what? What was he to tell them, why was he to train them, who did they exist for if not the inhabitants of the Hidden City?

No. He couldn't do that. He simply would not allow it, not when so much was at stake.

And yet...

More and more often he desired simply to watch them. He was growing weary with worry, and with that tight feeling that arose in his chest each time one of his boys so much as frowned.

Raphael loved to carry his brothers on his shoulders. And he prided himself on being the big brother, in every way. He liked repeating instructions Draxum gave to the others, and tended to play caretaker anytime someone was sad, or had a bruised knee. He often played the "bad guy" in their made up games so the younger ones could "win", he was the mediator in big decisions, like what book they should read before bed, and he seemed always ready with an armful of stuffed animals when he wanted to express affection. So strong, incredibly strong, but soft spoken and sweet.

Leonardo adored Raphael. Just as Raphael did Draxum, Leonardo liked to imitate and repeat instructions. He tended to take charge in many of their childish endeavors, and had a propensity for dramatics and heroism, often pretending to rescue his brothers. This seemed to irritate Donatello to no end, unless he was also playing the hero, and often times he was. The two were usually glued to the hip, though Leonardo liked to make a point to tell all his brothers about everything that went on, and would take a movie night with the three of them over a one on one outing with Draxum any day. He was exuberant and joyous, and very driven by the concept of justice.

Donatello, similarly, seemed to care very dearly about maintaining a bond with all three of his brothers, but he was peculiar, often more reserved and enjoying his alone time. That child read and read like he might never get a chance to again, and he absorbed what he read like a sponge. Quite a few times Draxum found him pulling apart whatever he could get his hands on, and though an effort was made, there was no hiding place the boy couldn't discover in his quest for Draxum's tools. In spite of his quizzical, sometimes stoic nature, Donatello was sensitive, and very thoughtful. He would spend hours talking about his books and his ideas- some of which were very clever- and he was expressive in secondary ways- sitting nearer his brothers even without interacting, crafting things out of paper as gifts. Even the little heart-shaped mark on the back of his soft shell seemed a fitting part of him- he wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak, and didn't even realize it.

And Michaelangelo. There was an innocence and joy and goodness about the smallest turtle that had struck Draxum. Even when he was younger he always wore a smile and liked to see the good side of things. And he idolized his brothers. With him had grown his creative inclinations, filling every colouring book, drawing on every wall, and absolutely plastering the other turtles with stickers. They were a pain to wash off, but Draxum couldn't bring himself to mind it, especially given the elder three always loved their baths. Ironically, it seemed Michealangelo did not, enjoying it only under specific circumstances. Heat, bubble bath, and bath toys had quickly become a necessity. So too did bath crayons, the need to express himself coming through even when bathing. Everything about the ornate box turtle was bright and colourful.

Draxum... loved them. Dearly. Every facet of their personalities and growth. Every unique trait and behavior.

It was terrifying. He couldn't afford to love them. He couldn't afford to see any more goodness in the humanity they showed. He couldn't afford to change his goals right now.

So he continued disregarding the feeling, trying to reason that everything he did for them was to nurture their instincts as warriors, as science experiments, as specimen.

But a pained scream one day, different from any of the ones he heard when they were frightened as infants, when one of them tripped and fell, when a spat led to hitting, sent his heart into his throat and had him racing through doorways with more urgency than he had felt for anything before.

He had demanded an explanation, panic translating to perceived anger, and three of his boys looked up with teary eyes. Three, but Donatello remained curled up on the ground, wailing his little heart out without ever looking up, and it was one of the most heart wrenching, painful sounds Draxum'd ever heard.

Raphael sat not far from the smaller boy, looking over his shoulder seemingly at nothing, at Donatello, then up at Draxum and back again. Both Leonardo and Michaelangelo burst into frantic, panicked explanations, none of their words coherent enough to understand through their tears.

When Raphael stood, exposing red-tipped spikes on his shell and pointing frantically to Donatello's, it didn't take long to figure out well enough what had happened.

It became quickly a very long day. All four turtles were distraught, and though Draxum had more than enough first aid knowledge to address the situation, bile had threatened to rise the very moment he pulled out the suture kit.

The cuts were deep, and jagged. And poor Donatello cried the entire time, even after a numbing agent had been applied.

Draxum had never thought that in depth about Donatello's soft shell. Not like that. He chose a softshell for the experiment because it would provide greater flexibility, greater agility. It gave an advantage that the hard-shelled turtles did not have.

Now, here... The soft carapace, spongy and leathery and bloody...

It was an accident. Of course it was, Draxum never doubted that. He had to assure that none of his boys were in trouble, no one was in trouble, no one had done anything wrong.

But for the first time he had to be honest with himself. For the first time he couldn't deny how much he cared about the turtles. His turtles. His boys.

He wouldn't, either. If this was what it was, if this was something that could happen again because he insisted on making them into warriors, into fighters- if this could happen on purpose, if this could happen worse, if this could happen with malice and hatred in mind...

Draxum wasn't unused to physical affection, by now. All four boys adored hugs, although Donatello was usually more reserved about them. Now, Donatello clung like his life depended on it, sniffling and whimpering, having cried so long he had no more tears. Draxum clung back, idly smoothing over the edges of the bandages, holding the frightened, exhausted turtle to his chest, cradling.

He did so until well after Donatello fell asleep. He couldn't bring himself to put him down. He accompanied the others to bed, assuring them once more that things were alright, and then simply stood in the walkway, holding his boy tightly.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through with it. They were children, every bit as innocent and deserving as the Yokai he wished to avenge and protect. He could train them, prepare them to protect themselves, but he could never send them into battle, ask them to put their lives on the line, much less demand it.

How could he?

It took months of processing, of agonizing his way through the healing process with Donatello, of watching the other boys proving their humanity, their curiosity, and their innocence time and time and time again. His mind was constantly at war with itself, his heart constantly in turmoil and distress, worsened by the turtles' confusion at his sudden change in behavior.

What was even worse was that they would.

They would absolutely sacrifice everything they had for his approval, and for what they understood as "right". He could see them, easily, being willing to submit their very lives to a greater cause if he asked it.

But was he "right"? Even if this experiment had gone exactly as planned, was he right for ever considering putting these turtles into the station of a warrior? Even if they had remained turtles in mind, if they never expressed complex emotion, if they could not speak, if they did not have distinct and colourful personalities, would it have been right?

Was what he saw in them now what they would have been at heart, regardless of circumstance?

Or was it the humanity, that he stole from Lou Jitsu?

Perhaps... perhaps it was time to learn. To consider the root of his motivations.

He couldn't do this to them.

How could he?

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

freedom

[katsuwuma]

67 Rotting Wounds - BloodClan Sasha

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

no listen you don't understand- I am obsessed with how differently Anders reacts to Hawke hitting on him after completing his Tranquility quest depending on gender.

He talks about how he hopes he didn't come off as selfish for keeping Justice a secret, and Hawke has the flirty option of "at least he got a nice body."

With a lady Hawke, his response is a dramatic, "Noooo, don't do that~ Don't go there, I don't want to hurt you~ That's not going to end well~ I'll break your heart~" like he's so serious about it, and when Hawke tells him to do it, that she doesn't mind a little pain, he gives a hard no; "I'll break your heart and that might kill me as surely as the templars."

But with male Hawke?? Anders is like, ".....So y'know, in the circle everything is about rules and order so we apprentices found ways to make it bearable, if you know what I mean, hint hint wink wink. Karl and I? Yeah, he was my first. I've always believed people fall in love with a whole person, not just a body. Why would you shy away from loving someone just because they're like you? Soooo.... does it bother you that I've been with other men??"

Like.... Anders, babe, it's so interesting that you're out here warning a lady Hawke against getting involved with you but then with male Hawke suddenly "nooo don't do that~" is tossed out the window in favor of making sure he knows you're interested.

[shrikeicee]

local suburban family and their dead uncle who haunts them

[skyward-floored]

..... does Warriors successfully arrest his family? (Downfall IAU)

fearfully, - hero-of-the-wolf

@hero-of-the-wolf BUCKLE UP MY FRIEND!!!

Comes after the Ravio fic and the Warriors fic :) the first one definitely helps for context.

...

It wasn’t until dawn that anything happened.

Legend and Wind both stayed up all night watching for any threats, keeping a largely silent vigil. They camped out on the roof, watching all corners of the yard and street, and Wind didn’t sleep a wink, anxious and full of a shaky worry for everyone. Sky hadn't responded to any of their messages, which wasn't too unusual since it had only been a few hours, but Wind was worried anyway.

Malon and Four stayed inside and prepared for the worst, readying supplies in case a quick escape was needed, and still occasionally trying to contact Sky. Ravio pretty much just slept, mumbling hazily about low prices and pretty birds.

But when the first rays of sunshine poked over the horizon and Wind and Legend had still seen nothing suspicious, everyone relaxed a little. Malon brought out some food for them to eat, and the two of them took it gratefully.

Wind was still worried, but things seemed less scary with the glimmer of dawn on the horizon, orangey light warming his face. Legend looked a little more relaxed as well, and they began to eat, both feeling lighter.

Wind took exactly three bites of his bagel before he froze, staring out across the street.

A man stood in plain view from his and Legend’s standpoint, one who hadn’t been there before. The sun shone off his white and blue outfit like sunlight on a frozen lake, and a mask covered part of his face, but Wind knew immediately who he was and why he was here.

He just didn’t want to believe it.

“Legend,” he whispered, and Legend immediately turned and looked, the color draining from his face.

“Wind, go warn them,” he whispered, but Wind remained frozen in place, staring at Warriors. “Wind.”

Wind couldn’t make himself move, gaze locked on Warriors. His uncle didn’t move either, silently watching him and Legend, and even though the distance was pretty far, Wind almost thought he could make out regret on his face.

Legend’s elbow to his side snapped him out of his daze, and Wind scrambled down the roof and inside a window, almost wiping out on a rug as he ran.

“Malon they’re coming!” he cried, and he heard a sharp intake of breath.

Malon appeared around the corner as a harsh knock came from their front door, and Wind gave her a panicked look. The knocks quickly turned into pounding, and Wind heard a thud on the roof, along with a shout.

“Go wake Ravio,” Malon said, and Wind ran off into the living room. He was worried about Legend, but he knew he could handle himself. Hopefully.

The pounding on the door seemed to have already woken Ravio up, and his green eyes were looking fearfully at the door as Wind ran in.

“They found me,” he said in a panic, and Wind nodded.

“Yeah. You and us. But they'll have to fight to catch us, c’mon.”

“I can’t run very well like this,” Ravio said nervously, and Wind pulled his arm up around his shoulders, helping him stand.

“No problem, we’ll help you,” he replied, and winced as another shout came from outside. “Where’s Four?”

“He said he needed to do something,” Ravio said as they hurried out of the living room.

“He what?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t explain!”

Both of them yelped as something shook the building, and Malon suddenly went flying back from the front door, hitting the wall beside them with a grunt.

Wind shouted in alarm, but Malon was unhurt, quickly standing up with her fists raised. Wind looked at where she’d come from, and saw the door broken with a group of people gathered in the doorway, all dressed in dark colors and protective gear. He didn’t see Warriors anywhere.

“Malon Forester, you and all the occupants of this house are under arrest,” the one at the front said, and Malon’s face creased determinedly.

“I don’t think so. Get Ravio out of here,” Malon directed towards Wind, but before he could move, he heard a wild yell.

Four suddenly burst from the hallway, dressed in his super suit that he’d been wearing when he and Wind first landed here. It was bright blue though, and Wind wasn’t surprised when three other Fours ran out behind the blue one, all looking determined.

Blue threw himself at the group in the doorway, and the others followed, all yelling as they lit up their powers. Chaos reigned as the colors swept through the squad, and Malon pushed Wind to get going.

“I’ll help Four, go,” she urged, and Wind and Ravio hurried off towards the back door, trying not to listen to the yelling from behind them.

They made it to the door quickly, but Wind could see even more of the scary soldier-people rushing towards the house, and he quickly locked the door and shoved a couple heavy chairs in front of it for good measure. They... weren't making it out that way.

“Now what?” Ravio asked a little hysterically, and Wind suddenly remembered Malon mentioning something about an emergency hatch in the basement room he and Four had been sleeping in. She’d only brought it up briefly, and he’d forgotten about it in the rush.

“Downstairs, c’mon,” he urged, gathering some winds around them just in case. They were on the opposite side of the house from the basement stairs, but the shouting had died down a little, so he was hopeful.

They hurried back the way they came, Wind eternally grateful that the house had tough windows and good locks. It didn’t seem like any of the scary-looking soldiers had gotten in yet, except for the ones at the front door, but it sounded like Malon and Four were handling them.

Wind and Ravio rushed past the front door, and saw Malon and all four colors braced against it, Malon having replaced the door and now struggling to secure a lock on it. Wind set Ravio down for a moment, and shoved a heavy-looking table over to help block the door. Malon realized what he was doing, and briefly abandoned Four in order to help him shove the table, as well as several other heavy pieces of furniture.

“Will that hold them?” Green asked in an out of breath voice.

“Hopefully long enough for us to get away,” Malon replied as they finished, rubbing her shoulder a bit. Wind squinted at her, but he couldn’t tell if she was truly hurt or not.

“How are we getting out?” Red said in a somewhat panicked voice as the men on the other side of the door began to bang at it again.

“Basement,” Malon replied, then shooed them along. “Hurry.”

The Colors finally moved away from the door, and though the banging began to increase, the door didn’t budge, locked and barricaded as it was.

They rushed down the hallway, Wind almost dropping Ravio when he heard a window shatter somewhere. He cast a glance at Malon, and saw that her face was surprisingly calm.

Though maybe that wasn't too surprising. It seemed to Wind that she'd been expecting something like this to happen for ages.

“I gotta grab my bag,” Vio said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. The other colors stopped as well, and Wind looked back at the different colors of his brother. “All our bags, we left them in the kitchen, there's important stuff in there.”

“Go fast,” Wind said worriedly, and the Colors nodded and bolted away.

Wind heard another window shatter somewhere, and drew some wind tighter around himself, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt. He really wished he'd at least had a nap last night. The lack of sleep only made his nerves feel even more shot.

“Where’s Legend?” Ravio huffed as they continued to work their way across the house. He was looking paler again, probably from the strain on his leg as well as the situation at hand. Wind couldn’t blame him.

“He was on the roof, I don’t know whe—”

“Right here.”

Legend flickered into view beside them, and Wind was glad he was used to it and didn’t shriek like Ravio did.

His alternate-brother looked a little ruffled, but unhurt as far as Wind could tell. Legend opened his mouth to say more, but Malon abruptly grabbed him away from the stairwell, some kind of energy blast hitting the wall where his head had been.

More of the armored men were coming from upstairs, and Wind blasted a gust at their feet, making them all trip and fall into a pile. Their group rapidly turned the corner towards the basement, and Wind started to believe they’d maybe make it out.

Then he saw Warriors standing in the hallway, blocking their path.

Wind stopped short, and Malon and Legend bumped into him, all three of them staring at the super in front of them.

“Warriors,” Malon began, firm, but soft regardless. “Let us through.”

Warriors looked at them, but his expression stayed the same, smooth and emotionless. “I can’t do that. All of you are under arrest. If you come quietly, this’ll be easier for all of us.”

“Easier for all of us? Or just for you?” Legend snapped, and Wind thought he saw hurt flash in his uncle’s eyes.

“Legend, Malon, I don’t want to do this,” he said in a quieter voice. “Please. Come quietly.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Malon said firmly.

“Dad wouldn’t want us to,” Legend spat.

Warriors flinched, but didn’t say anything in reply. He simply lifted his hands, frost forming threateningly on his gloves.

Nobody moved for several tense seconds. Legend glared silently at his uncle, Ravio looked nervously towards the door, Malon kept a steady eye on her husband’s brother, all while Wind watched and wondered what to do.

Warriors couldn’t be serious... could he?

Wind had only spoken to this version of Warriors once, but... he loved his family. Wind could tell that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Why was he doing this?

Why was he working for the bad guys?

Footsteps came up behind Wind, and he turned to see Four run up, looking winded and shaky. He’d reformed into one for some reason, holding several bags in his arms, and Wind caught his shoulder. Four stumbled to a halt as he looked around at the situation, and frowned.

And then Warriors locked eyes with Four, and his face went white.

That moment of distraction was what they’d been waiting for, and Malon threw herself at her brother-in-law, successfully knocking him to the ground.

“Go boys!” she shouted, and they scrambled to obey, Legend and Wind grabbing Ravio, while Four ran behind. Legend ran ahead of them and flung open the door to the basement, hurriedly gesturing them inside.

Wind couldn’t help watch Malon grapple with Warriors, her eyes alight with protectiveness. He winced as she punched him, the two rolling around as they fought, and Wind gasped when Warriors’s hands glowed with ice and he tried to freeze her arms.

The soldiers Wind had tripped came around the corner as well, and began shooting more of the energy beams that Legend had narrowly avoided. Wind was a little surprised they didn't have bullets, but he supposed he shouldn't complain. At least being shocked wasn't as instantly life-threatening.

Four suddenly stumbled against Wind, having trouble with the ice rapidly coating the area. Wind grabbed his arm and ended up supporting him almost more than Ravio, Four still shaky from being split and struggling to hold onto the bags all while avoiding any blasts.

“Guys come on, we— Mom?” Legend said, his commanding tone suddenly slipping. Wind turned back to look again, and saw Malon with one arm pinned to the ground with ice.

Warriors was panting, blood dripping from his nose, and despite Malon getting her lasso around one of his legs, she hadn’t been able to pull it tight. Warriors stood and turned towards the basement door, his hands glowing again, and Wind hated the closed-off look on his face.

He raised his hands, but then Malon shouted, wrenching her arm free of the ice and yanking the lasso around Warriors’s leg.

He lost his balance with a cry, and Malon kicked him backwards, sending him sliding down the hall a bit.

“Boys, go now,” she said, making no move to join them as she tried to get the rope around Warriors’s other leg. He shot some ice at her again, and it froze some of her hair as she dodged.

“But Mom—!”

“I said go! That’s an order!” she shouted, cutting Legend off.

“We’re not leaving you here!” Wind said, wanting to rush to her side, but still supporting both Four and Ravio. He couldn’t even use his powers to help, the hallway too narrow and Malon and Warriors moving too fast for him to do anything.

Malon gave Wind and Four a complicated look, then threw open a closet door that opened into the hallway, blocking a shot from Warriors. The ice froze it in place, and Wind could hear Warriors trying to break through as energy shots rattled it, but Malon didn’t press the sudden advantage. Rather she used the brief break to look back at the four of them.

Her expression softened, and she locked eyes with Legend, his face pale and frantic.

“I’ll keep him busy, you four go ahead. The hatch downstairs opens with the triforce tap combination, you know it Legend.”

Legend’s expression looked like pure agony. “Mama I can’t—”

A loud crack came from the closet door, and Malon swept forward and grabbed all of them into a hug, even Ravio, and she quickly kissed Legend’s hair.

“It’ll be okay, honey. Go!”

She gave them all a pointed shove through the doorway as Warriors broke through the ice, and Legend shouted a warning. Wind caught a brief glimpse of Warriors standing behind her, his hands raised with grief on his face, and Malon slammed the door shut behind them.

Then the tell-tale sound of Warriors shooting his ice rang out, sealing the door shut.

“No!” Legend screamed, slamming his shoulder into the door.

Wind stared at it in horror, but he could already tell the ice was too thick for them to break through. The door was totally sealed off, thick ice sealing all around the edges, and even the sound from the other side was muffled.

Nobody would be getting through that door for hours.

“Legend we have to go,” Wind said in a shaking voice, hating that he had to be the one to say it, and Legend banged a fist against the door, breathing heavily.

“Mom!” he yelled, but there was no reply, only muffled shouts.

Four gave Wind a frightened look, Ravio’s expression pure shock, and Wind took in a deep breath as Legend slammed his fist against the door again.

“Legend,” Wind repeated quietly, and Legend gripped the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white.

Wind managed to brush a slight breeze over Legend’s head, meant to be comforting, and Legend stilled, only his shaking shoulders belaying his emotions.

“I can’t lose her too,” Legend finally whispered in a terrified voice.

“You’re not losing her. This isn’t over,” Wind said, choking back the knot in his throat. He had to focus, he could cry later. “We’ll get her back Legend, I swear, but we can’t let what she did be in vain. We have to go.”

Legend pressed his forehead to the door, and didn’t move.

Then he harshly breathed out, and leaned back, a murderous expression on his face.

“We’re going for Sky’s place. It'll be safe there. And then we’re getting her back,” he said in a harsh whisper.

Wind and Four both nodded determinedly, and Ravio gave Legend a light nudge, looking like he didn’t know what else to do. It was telling that Ravio had stayed quiet almost this whole time— Wind knew his version of him could be a bit of a chatterbox sometimes— but now it was like he just didn’t know what to say.

It could’ve been the pain he was in, but Wind had a feeling it was more due to shock.

“Come on,” Legend muttered, nudging Wind forward, and they all hurried down the stairs, nobody speaking as Legend opened the secret hatch, then closed and locked it behind them.

Nobody spoke as they crawled through the tunnel, Legend leading the way and helping Ravio with his leg. Wind glimpsed tears on Legend's face from the light of the flashlight, but he didn't say anything about them, knowing it wasn't the time. They needed to get away from here first.

Four finally distributed the packs so he didn't have to carry them all, though Wind took two because Malon...

Wind swallowed, and shook his dark thoughts away. They'd just wanted to arrest them, not kill them. Malon would be captured, but he had to hope she would be fine. Especially with Warriors there, he wouldn't let them do anything bad to her...

...Right?

An image of Warriors shooting ice at them with an emotionless look in his eyes shot through Wind's brain, and he held back a shudder, Four brushing his side.

Malon had to be okay.

She would be okay.

Wind swallowed again, and focused all of his energy on crawling through the dusty tunnel, not thinking about Warriors, not thinking about Malon, and trying his best not to listen to the quiet sound of Legend's tears.

(...)

Malon was silent as she was surrounded and handcuffed, though she still struggled and kicked like the horses she spent so much of her time with. Finally she was restrained though, and the man who was technically Warriors's superior grinned as he proudly announced she was under arrest for treason, participating in illegal ventures, aiding and abetting known criminals... the list went on.

Warriors held her silently while the man prattled on, and glanced at the basement door, still frozen solid. He tried not to let the hope show on his face, but he was overwhelmingly relieved inside.

He'd given Legend and the others some time. His nephew may hate him now, but it was worth it.

Malon stumbled suddenly on some of the ice, and Warriors automatically caught her, her head ending up rather close to his.

"Thank you," she whispered, so soft Warriors thought he'd imagined it. She gave him the smallest of nods when he looked at her though, and Warriors returned it, his throat tight.

She knew he'd helped Legend get away.

The man finally finished his list of alleged crimes, and Warriors prodded Malon to her feet as gently as he could manage while still putting on a show. She didn't resist, and they marched out of the house, Malon with her head high and undefeated.

I'm sorry Time.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Immortal shadow au

Fanfic prompt: Shadow is a demon while four is just a mortal hylian

It is likely that he would outlive four several times over

What if he decided to stay with four even in death and protect his grave from robbers

And considering the mess that is four swords palace and its weird unsettling atmosphere

And the fact that Legend fights several shades and other creatures

It would be a fun twist if shadow was the sole reason why the palace is so creepy

Because he had several centuries to train his abilities to kill off any and all people who dare disturb his lover’s grave

And amass the ungodly amount of corpses in the palace

The centuries of not interacting with the rest of the world and the grieving over the hero of the four sword

Is an easy way to drive yourself crazy

And considering the fact that shadow never was truly sane to begin with

Even in the manga he showed how obsessive and cruel he can be if he wants to

Imagine how much worse it would get if he has actual motivation to take his rage out on grave robbers who want to steal the four sword

He would go mad from grief and probably speak with the sword and create copies of four like the four shades

And when Legend had the “joy” to visit him and fight his way through the palace shadow was watching him from the shadows

Because even in madness he can feel the same soul that once belonged to four

When linked universe happens Legend is hesitant to be around the one who has the face of his worst nightmares

The reaction he would have if he met shadow (who looks like the shadows of the palace)

Would not be pretty

And if the chain has to enter the four swords palace and four has to endure looking at his grave

And then see an insane and grievous version of his lover

Yeah ,four isn’t having a fun time in this

Or the chain

And especially Legend

Shadow is psychologically incapable of differentiating between four and the four sword and could very easily decide that both should stay at the palace

And if four still hasn’t gotten his shadow back yet because they haven’t been to Wild's Hyrule

He would probably just prefer to stay with shadow

And when he gets forced to leave at some point

And then when he gets back his shadow

Knowing that he will one day outlive him and all shadow cares about

That would be genuinely painful

[multiverse-of-multifandoms]

TV Appreciation Week Day 7 -> Free Choice + Favourite Series Intros

[misswarrioroflight]

I am not really happy with this but I still have a lot to learn my friend anyways I met this bit comfy guy who looks like he's wearing a blanket I used to own I like him

[ask-cloverfield]