sensitive topics YOU'VE RUINED THE COLOR BLUE FOR ME | Lynxtooth

[slateheart]

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- I'M SURROUNDED BY A DEEP DARK SEA - cw for blood, death, descriptive gore, mentions of abuse & trauma
The battle between Sootstar and Sunstride's respective followers was raging all throughout camp. Slatetooth was one of the first to jump to Sunstride's side the moment Soostar made her egocentric monologue. You all belong to me. the menacing molly had stated, so boldly and sure. In hindsight, he wondered if she expected so many cats to defy her in that very moment, to fight for their freedom and safety.

The oppression that followed from her hounds only fueled his rage further. Harbringermoon had declared Slatetooth's worth to be less than dung. Called him a traitor, a rogue. Nightmareface, similarly, told him his honor was weak. That he was throwing away everything he had, for a coward over a couple stolen kits. Hypocrites, the lot of them were. But Slatetooth's predicament wouldn't satisfy their accusations - he had nothing in WindClan, right from the start. His mothers were long dead; his brother was no more than an acquaintance; and his father, dear Lynxtooth, was the monster behind it all.

Even now, insults were spit his way as he was pinned to the ground by the smaller molly, Nightmareface, while was vulnerable from his own blind rampage. StarClan bless Foxglare, who came to his rescue, tearing the she-cat off of him and ordering him to run - while he lost a chunk of his ear from her blood-hungry fangs, and was littered in cuts and scratches, he was otherwise in enough shape to run.

That's when he ran into him. Lynxtooth. As he spun around and darted away from Nightamareface and Foxglare, fate put him right underneath his father's glare - he had ran into him, stopping just inches away from the ginger tom. In those fiery orange eyes, he saw many emotions: fury, betrayal, disgust. None of which were befitting a father. But unlike the meek apprentice he once was, Slatetooth's own green eyes met his father with a similar hatred. He was no longer the push-over he once was.

Still, the idea of fighting his father terrified him, to some degree. Contrary to the heat in his enraged expression, his paws were planted firmly to the ground, frozen in place - his blood ran cold, while his head rushed with adrenaline. Memories of his training under his father's ruthless claws filled him with dread, with fear - but simultaneously, determination. This was his chance at freedom. The chance he should have taken many times - when the many cats have fled WindClan's grasp, when the journey to the mountains began. Now, if he fled.. he wouldn't be alone. And, most importantly, he wouldn't let his father get in his way. "Lynxtooth," he hissed, meeting his father's gaze unwaveringly. His bloodied claws flexed into the frozen dirt, and his muscles bunched with anticipation. "Move." If you don't, Slatetooth thought, I will cleanse the moors from your barbarity. No longer will I - will we - suffer by your greed. No matter what it takes.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG ⋅❁⋅ YOU'RE A LOADED GUN ──┐‎

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  SLATETOOTH ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 17 moons.
  ⭃ a reclusive short-haired black tom with low white and green eyes.
  ⭃ mate to no one. son of lynxtooth x adelaide. brother to gravelsnap and ashpaw.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[LYNXTOOTH.]

sootstar is not the only one here with delusions of belonging.

lynxtooth considers his sons property. his own and his alone, who defer to sootstar as he defers to sootstar. that's just what children are — even gravelpaw under another mentor, even gravelsnap and slatetooth, grown, now — how could they be anything else? he has not changed, in the seasons since this story started. he's not that kind of man.

he fights like the creature he was named for, fangs bared, and knows his children are fighting too, somewhere in the mass of claws and bodies. oh, he's so glad things have come to a head like this. he can use his teeth now. he'd had to use words before, bite on the urge to rend flesh for her majesty's favor, and lynxtooth is not that kind of man. gravelsnap will show their mettle, he's sure, maybe even enough mettle to make up for their little dalliance, whatever's budding between them and — that — sniveling traitor thing. periwinklebreeze. lynxtooth hopes the wretch dies so gravelsnap can finally forget this distraction —

this is when his eyes catch on slatetooth.

he's not thinking of the boy at all. (boy, still, in his head, though slate has long outgrown that label.) he doesn't feel the need to. slatetooth's story is always the same, always disappointment after disappointment. he will crawl back to lynxtooth after this battle like every battle before, whining over every little wound, the humiliation that he is.

(slatetooth has changed right under his nose. lynxtooth sees the boy that he was, that fearful child, helpless with no one to turn to — that child has grown into a warrior, and lynxtooth doesn't see it, and this is his final mistake.)

when slatetooth finally notices him, lynxtooth has seen plenty. he stands tall, broad chest a fiery wall with muscle taut beneath it, and he bares his teeth in the snarl that used to make slatekit cry.

"what are you doing-" his voice booms, claws unsheathed, poised to strike the ungrateful brat down- "defending rat-pelted traitor scum? or do my eyes deceive me?"

he steps forward, right up against slatetooth's toes, and makes himself larger. "i will not move," he rumbles, low and dangerous, sneering in a mockery of the command. move. pah. slatetooth does not tell him to move. "you have half a breath to explain yourself."

should slatetooth's response not suffice, he'll launch at the younger warrior, aiming to slam his head to the ground and pin him there, claws outstretched to dig into skin.


// SORRY ITS SO LATE!! YOU WILL BE GLAD TO HEAR THAT THE MILK SITUATION IS RESOLVED.

anyway Killin tim e >:D

. . . tags.​

 

[slateheart]

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- The dark-furred tom almost winces at the sheer cruelty in his father's snarl, teeth bared in such a way that strikes into the heart of the fearful child he once was. Almost - if only Slatetooth wasn't dedicating every ounce of strength to this final stand. Every bit of dignity he had left was mustered up for this moment. He's been made a fool out of, humiliated, beaten far too many times.

And yet, he still doesn't quite expect Lynxtooth to turn on him the way he does. Slatetooth's head hits the ground, dragging the air out of his lungs. The frozen dirt puffs into the air on each side of him from the forceful impact. As the golden warrior's claws dig meet his skin, he finds himself blinking away tears of pain, betrayal, and moons of anguish. Explain yourself, Lynxtooth demanded, and Slatetooth concludes that there is nothing to say that hasn't already been said. This battle spoke for him - his side was made clear as he fought Nightmareface just moments prior, leaving the left side of his face stained with a steady stream of blood. His newly tattered ear pins back with the other as he meets his father's gaze - defiant, yet always fearful.

"How could you-" his teeth grits as thorn-sharp claws bear into him "-How could you stand for this? Everything Sootstar has done?" For a moment, he seems to be searching the fiery yellow eyes staring down at him, searching for some purpose or meaning that is Lynxtooth's own. Countless days and nights pushed past his limit by his father - his mentor. Moons in the shadow of his brother, the golden child, following Lynxtooth around like a loyal dog. Humiliation and defeat were given to him in the place of love - it was almost all he's ever known. After everything, he still held onto the hope that there was something more to his father - giving him the chance to change his mind, to unveil some empathy hidden for as long as he's known him.

And then he remembers his origins - his mothers, his fever coat, Adelaide's blood staining Lynxtooth's cold claws - his sister, Ashpaw's fear when she heard that their father was still alive, and closer than she could have ever expected. The man who killed their mother, stole her children away. Lynxtooth was a murderer, through and through, and commanded fear with every step towards tyranny. If there was any redemption for this man, he had mere seconds to express it, before Slatetooth bears his fangs and twists his abdomen to kick at Lynxtooth's stomach, soft-pawed at first - but increasing with desperation as his claws soon come out, scraping at the underbelly of the golden tabby. As the pressure on his head increases, so do his kicks, desperate and frantic, until they meet his oppressor's skin and tears.

Lynxtooth promised to kill his kits the night of Adelaide's death, if they would not follow. Slatetooth had no doubt that this promise would hold true now.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG ⋅❁⋅ YOU'RE A LOADED GUN ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• 
  SLATETOOTH ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 17 moons.
  ⭃ a reclusive short-haired black tom with low white and green eyes.
  ⭃ mate to no one. son of lynxtooth x adelaide. brother to gravelsnap and ashpaw.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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