- Feb 18, 2023
- 381
- 55
- 28
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
/ takes place when the patrol gets back, duskpool isn't all that aware of what actually happened, trying to listen to a blubbering idiot doesn't help but he ends up walking off before he does something he'll regret later
Duskpool settled beneath swaying branches, away from SkyClan’s territory, dipping into the lawless lands. He was familiar with it for he had been in a similar position, prattling around like meat on a stick for beasts to gnaw on pink-tinted bones. It left deep grooves in the supple flesh of his skin, hidden beneath obsidian smokey fur, concealing the worst of his injuries from the naked eye.
Heaving a sigh, Duskpool shifted to peer at the branches where sunlight peeked through, splattered the ground like freckles, blessed by the sun. Then, heavy-lidded guilt slammed into him at full force. He hissed, teeth clenched, helm pressed against the rough bark of the tree. Damnit, Yukio.
When the queen had returned, trembling like a leaf with others in tow looking worse than they had left filled him with dread. What now? He wanted to ask, remaining silent. Molten copper watched as tears prickled the queen’s waterline. What did you do? He listened, Yukio’s voice trembling, hiccuping with littered apologies when realization settled deep within his bones.
Torn between family and a sense of duty, Duskpool wasn’t sure how to respond, staring at the cream-ticked tabby with a veil of indifference. He would do anything for his family, but he would do anything for Blazestar.
It left his troubled, brows pinched at the maelstrom between his mind and heart battled like caged animals.
What was going on in that head of yours? He wanted to ask, but knowing the ditzy feline, it would have been something much stupider. Something he knew damn well he couldn’t hear without exploding. He hated rising to his anger, reminding him of a life he’d rather forget.
Your naiveness will get you killed, kiddo. He’d speak, pressing his nose against the queen’s wet cheek, molten copper closing in defeat. You’re gonna give me grey hairs, kid. He thought concern meshed with shame and disappointment. It’s my damn fault you’re in this fuckin’ mess.
Had he paid more attention, perhaps this would have never happened, but Yukio should have realized the smells, or was he wrapped up inside his own helm? Fuck. With a deep inhale, Duskpool nudged the queen further into the nursery, ignoring the strangled cries the other emitted, brows pinched. Do not leave the nursery. He’d rumble, biting back the hiss that threatened to spill from tight lips, pivoting on massive paws, and vanishing into the forest. Ignoring the cries of his kit. I’ll return, kid. Just give me a minute. He’d promise, glancing at the leader’s den as he went, heart beating harshly against its boney prison. Fuck me.
If he hadn’t left then, who knows what the male would have done, rising to his anger would have gotten him nowhere.
Damnit. He pressed a paw against his throbbing helm, willing the annoyance to leave him be, only for it to worsen tenfold as time ticked on. The sensation would become unbearable as emotions raged war on his mind, battling against the muscle beating within his chest.
He had left, offering quick reassurance to Yukio before hightailing it out of there to think. He needed to get away because as much as he gave his entire being to the clan, Duskpool was someone who favored solitude more than the noise of his clanmates when he needed to think about the war within his own damn head.
What possessed Yukio to cross the border? He didn’t know the full story, listening to the queen babble on about being stupid didn’t do all that great.
Duskpool grumbled, rigid claws sinking into the soft earth to stare ahead, molten copper narrowing. It seemed he had not done enough to teach the ditzy queen about clan life, for this incident was as much his fault as it was Yukio’s.
He had failed. Again. The thought left him sick, teeth clenched beneath obsidian lips. Molten copper stared ahead, unseeing. Some fuckin’ warrior I am. He thought bitterly. He was no better than Yukio. Starclan knows why Blazestar kept them around, but it wouldn’t do him any good in asking what-ifs. It was a fool's game to wonder.
I should be punished. It was obvious, Yukio would be punished, whether he was to be exiled for making a silly, but a drastic mistake that could have cost their clanmates' lives or drill everything into that mouse-brained head of his.
He wasn’t sure what Blazestar would do, but if exile was his decision, then so be it. SkyClan didn’t need two fools makin’ a mess of things, nor did they need a warrior who’s failed to do his duties. His heart skipped, jerking him out of his musings to stare at the ground, bottom lip twitching in discomfort, paw reaching to press a calloused pad against his chest, biting back a frustrated hiss. Damn body.
But damnit, he should have known better! He had let others in, but it only ended in strife. He didn’t regret taking Yukio under his wing. No. He would have given his life to protect them, but he would have given his life to protect his clan until his dying breath left him on the battlefield.
If Blazestar had sent him on a suicide mission, then Duskpool would have done so with honor, but he would never forget that he was also a father with a stupid, stupid kid who had his head in the clouds most days, wandering foolishly into the beast’s den.
He should be angry, but he wasn’t. StarClan forbids he wanted to strangle him, but he was scared. The look in his eyes was far similar to when Duskpool first met them it made his heart sting. He was terrified, but he needed to understand that his naivety was going to get him killed.
Yukio was a curious fellow who overthinks and so, Duskpool would bear the shame equally with his child. He vowed he would never be alone, whether he had to say goodbye to those he had let into his heart, but he would never abandon them. He’d find a way. He always did.
And so, Yukio will face whatever fate Blazestar decides, but his father will be there beside him through the thickest flames.
He refused to lose another family, an unforgiving sin in the eyes of others. A wicked fate for kits who had yet to open their eyes, and a mother tired from giving birth. They had been weak and yet Duskpool was forced to watch them, pressed against the floor in silent horror, unable to do anything. He still couldn’t bear its weight, punishing himself, because he was a sinner with little hope for a bright future. He didn’t deserve goodness. He sure as hell deserved nothing good that’s come out of being here. Fucking hell. He snorted, expression bittersweet.
He had lost the fight to beasts far bigger than himself but hadn’t he lost again? Duskpool winced at the memory.
Trapped in foul-smelling cages glistening of moonlight, their shine dampened by corrosion, stacked upon one another like livestock. They had relied on him then, their fates weighing heavily on broad shoulders while they awaited their fate. Death could not have been quick enough. He thought, expression deadpan.
Brows furrowed, staring at enormous paws, vision blurred at the sway of memories of a life he damn near wanted to forget. Of ichor-rich dirt smelling of iron to the jeering upwalkers, kicking them when they tried to escape.
Shaking his helm to banish them, collecting cobwebs in the deepest parts of his mind where they should be to wonder how his clanmates would see him.
Will they see past his facade to split him apart? He snorted, expression bittersweet. Better get my ass into gear before they think I abandoned ‘em. He thought, clambering to heavy paws, tail hanging low to brush the leave-ridden ground, nose crinkling in distaste.
Duskpool settled beneath swaying branches, away from SkyClan’s territory, dipping into the lawless lands. He was familiar with it for he had been in a similar position, prattling around like meat on a stick for beasts to gnaw on pink-tinted bones. It left deep grooves in the supple flesh of his skin, hidden beneath obsidian smokey fur, concealing the worst of his injuries from the naked eye.
Heaving a sigh, Duskpool shifted to peer at the branches where sunlight peeked through, splattered the ground like freckles, blessed by the sun. Then, heavy-lidded guilt slammed into him at full force. He hissed, teeth clenched, helm pressed against the rough bark of the tree. Damnit, Yukio.
When the queen had returned, trembling like a leaf with others in tow looking worse than they had left filled him with dread. What now? He wanted to ask, remaining silent. Molten copper watched as tears prickled the queen’s waterline. What did you do? He listened, Yukio’s voice trembling, hiccuping with littered apologies when realization settled deep within his bones.
Torn between family and a sense of duty, Duskpool wasn’t sure how to respond, staring at the cream-ticked tabby with a veil of indifference. He would do anything for his family, but he would do anything for Blazestar.
It left his troubled, brows pinched at the maelstrom between his mind and heart battled like caged animals.
What was going on in that head of yours? He wanted to ask, but knowing the ditzy feline, it would have been something much stupider. Something he knew damn well he couldn’t hear without exploding. He hated rising to his anger, reminding him of a life he’d rather forget.
Your naiveness will get you killed, kiddo. He’d speak, pressing his nose against the queen’s wet cheek, molten copper closing in defeat. You’re gonna give me grey hairs, kid. He thought concern meshed with shame and disappointment. It’s my damn fault you’re in this fuckin’ mess.
Had he paid more attention, perhaps this would have never happened, but Yukio should have realized the smells, or was he wrapped up inside his own helm? Fuck. With a deep inhale, Duskpool nudged the queen further into the nursery, ignoring the strangled cries the other emitted, brows pinched. Do not leave the nursery. He’d rumble, biting back the hiss that threatened to spill from tight lips, pivoting on massive paws, and vanishing into the forest. Ignoring the cries of his kit. I’ll return, kid. Just give me a minute. He’d promise, glancing at the leader’s den as he went, heart beating harshly against its boney prison. Fuck me.
If he hadn’t left then, who knows what the male would have done, rising to his anger would have gotten him nowhere.
Damnit. He pressed a paw against his throbbing helm, willing the annoyance to leave him be, only for it to worsen tenfold as time ticked on. The sensation would become unbearable as emotions raged war on his mind, battling against the muscle beating within his chest.
He had left, offering quick reassurance to Yukio before hightailing it out of there to think. He needed to get away because as much as he gave his entire being to the clan, Duskpool was someone who favored solitude more than the noise of his clanmates when he needed to think about the war within his own damn head.
What possessed Yukio to cross the border? He didn’t know the full story, listening to the queen babble on about being stupid didn’t do all that great.
Duskpool grumbled, rigid claws sinking into the soft earth to stare ahead, molten copper narrowing. It seemed he had not done enough to teach the ditzy queen about clan life, for this incident was as much his fault as it was Yukio’s.
He had failed. Again. The thought left him sick, teeth clenched beneath obsidian lips. Molten copper stared ahead, unseeing. Some fuckin’ warrior I am. He thought bitterly. He was no better than Yukio. Starclan knows why Blazestar kept them around, but it wouldn’t do him any good in asking what-ifs. It was a fool's game to wonder.
I should be punished. It was obvious, Yukio would be punished, whether he was to be exiled for making a silly, but a drastic mistake that could have cost their clanmates' lives or drill everything into that mouse-brained head of his.
He wasn’t sure what Blazestar would do, but if exile was his decision, then so be it. SkyClan didn’t need two fools makin’ a mess of things, nor did they need a warrior who’s failed to do his duties. His heart skipped, jerking him out of his musings to stare at the ground, bottom lip twitching in discomfort, paw reaching to press a calloused pad against his chest, biting back a frustrated hiss. Damn body.
But damnit, he should have known better! He had let others in, but it only ended in strife. He didn’t regret taking Yukio under his wing. No. He would have given his life to protect them, but he would have given his life to protect his clan until his dying breath left him on the battlefield.
If Blazestar had sent him on a suicide mission, then Duskpool would have done so with honor, but he would never forget that he was also a father with a stupid, stupid kid who had his head in the clouds most days, wandering foolishly into the beast’s den.
He should be angry, but he wasn’t. StarClan forbids he wanted to strangle him, but he was scared. The look in his eyes was far similar to when Duskpool first met them it made his heart sting. He was terrified, but he needed to understand that his naivety was going to get him killed.
Yukio was a curious fellow who overthinks and so, Duskpool would bear the shame equally with his child. He vowed he would never be alone, whether he had to say goodbye to those he had let into his heart, but he would never abandon them. He’d find a way. He always did.
And so, Yukio will face whatever fate Blazestar decides, but his father will be there beside him through the thickest flames.
He refused to lose another family, an unforgiving sin in the eyes of others. A wicked fate for kits who had yet to open their eyes, and a mother tired from giving birth. They had been weak and yet Duskpool was forced to watch them, pressed against the floor in silent horror, unable to do anything. He still couldn’t bear its weight, punishing himself, because he was a sinner with little hope for a bright future. He didn’t deserve goodness. He sure as hell deserved nothing good that’s come out of being here. Fucking hell. He snorted, expression bittersweet.
He had lost the fight to beasts far bigger than himself but hadn’t he lost again? Duskpool winced at the memory.
Trapped in foul-smelling cages glistening of moonlight, their shine dampened by corrosion, stacked upon one another like livestock. They had relied on him then, their fates weighing heavily on broad shoulders while they awaited their fate. Death could not have been quick enough. He thought, expression deadpan.
Brows furrowed, staring at enormous paws, vision blurred at the sway of memories of a life he damn near wanted to forget. Of ichor-rich dirt smelling of iron to the jeering upwalkers, kicking them when they tried to escape.
Shaking his helm to banish them, collecting cobwebs in the deepest parts of his mind where they should be to wonder how his clanmates would see him.
Will they see past his facade to split him apart? He snorted, expression bittersweet. Better get my ass into gear before they think I abandoned ‘em. He thought, clambering to heavy paws, tail hanging low to brush the leave-ridden ground, nose crinkling in distaste.
thought speech