#wc lore

[satoruhour]

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

[juniper-clan]

Moon 14: Birth of Venus

(AKA the twins!)

PREVIOUS l NEXT

[echoes-in-echoclan]

Because I didn't want to wait + y'all got it on the dot here's the next page early early <3

Auburn's mom is named Jackal!

Moon 0 

Moon 41.2 - Moon 41.4

[trashiiplant]

saw some warrior cat iterators going around and decided to hop on the train

(I haven't drawn cats like this since 2020 or so. sorry if they look a bit... wonky)

[mist-clan]

Moon 0 Prologue, Page 1 | next

[featherclan]

Not trying to sound like a broken record but- your art is GORGEOUS! Very happy I found this blog randomly!

Sparrowpaw, how's your injury feeling...? Hope you feel better soon, surviving an eagle attack is VERY impressive.

I’m glad you like my art!!

[scclangen]

moon 16 1/2 Cliffrun can't, in fact, rest

You now have (partially) cliffrun lore + the fact that 2 of the clans are called Caribouclan and Mynaclan so do with your thinking what you will (or ask him)

[whistleclangen]

[riaki]

PHEW okay. rn im working on a yoshida fic but i completely spitballed and went off the rails ...... so um. might be a while before that comes out, so take some (many) thoughts and drabbles of weird stalker boy instead !! yoshida hirofumi x reader

@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat take this for yoshi fluff n some mild angst.. for now......

i feel like yoshida would definitely be the kinda guy to give his all in keeping it together; especially with his position as student council president (that he's only half-committed to, really) topped off with his life in the private sector of devil hunting, his image is extremely important to him. not because he has a huge ego or is self-obsessed, but he knows that a lot of people look up to him and rely on him. that being said, he's (probably, yoshida lore when) only human, and he's bound to struggle and wrestle with the workload he's chained to, and it can often get the best of his emotions and stress him out.

so a little word of encouragement here, a sweet 'washed your dishes and your clothes cus i saw you were busy' there would be everything he needs to spur himself on even if he's exhausted; hearing the phrase "i'm proud of you." from your mouth in your sweet, sweet voice? makes it all worth it. 

all considered, he doesn't want you to do too much for him; he never lets you pay for your shared meals or drive the two of you home, BUT you should give it your all in trying anyway! acts of service for him seem subtle, but they really mean the world to him when you try so hard to lighten his burden. he thinks it's the most endearing thing on the planet. on the days he lacks the energy to even utter a small mumble of protest, he'll let you take the wheel- but those days are rare, so capitalize on the opportunity! being a gentleman is tiring, so make him coffee (not black) instead of letting him buy the headache-inducing cans of sickeningly sweet caffeine from the vending machines outside his apartment when you rise early enough to; let him fall asleep in your lap and gently play with his hair while you handle a homework assignment for him or two. bonus points if he wakes up to something sweet or savory made by those hands of yours that he loves to hold so much; do that, and he might just dream of marrying you the next time he indulges in an afternoon nap in the confines of your arms. 

(and when you hold him to your chest and whisper sweet nothings into his ears on the days he's earned further affection from you? it makes him feel like he's being granted a visit from the heavens, though hell knows he'll never make it up there. but, if he thinks he's being honest, it doesn't matter to him- not when you're right in front of him, a taste of divinity. not when you're gently tracing each slope and ridge in the shape of his left ear, thumb tenderly prodding at the soft skin between the cold metal piercings on his ear. it's like you're mapping out just this minuscule section of his body, and he's found himself praying to whatever's out there that you'll always be here to give him this; that one day, you'll have ran your fingers over every inch of him, memorizing the intricacies of the very bones in his body.)

to me, his primary love language would definitely be quality time- more so for him than you (but he still hopes you enjoy it enough to indulge him. makes him feel like a kid in a candy store with free reign over his monthly allowance.) meaningful talks with you and silly fun banter is all he needs to take his mind off the stresses currently throwing him for a loop and let loose a little. that’s one of the reasons why he fell so head over heels for you— you make it a little easier to breath whenever you’re around him. also... he loves the look on your face whenever he surprises you with gifts, so count on an uninvited bouquet of flowers in some varying hue of your eye color, or surprise boxes of jewelry- that is, if he can afford it. if not, he'll take you out when the weather is pleasant enough and you're in the mood for a cup of boba or an evening out in the nearest shopping district, browsing the warmly lit stands as the chatter of people bustling by fills your ears and he holds onto your hands in the simple pretext of not wanting you to get lost as he buys every mouth-watering festival food you lay your eyes on without hesitation. maybe he'll even treat you to a quick stop at a standing ramen restaurant- and if you're too tired to support yourself on your own two legs, he has no problem carrying you. after all, with his private devil hunting, you both know he's more than capable of that. and so, rest-assured you’ll return home on those gleeful days with full stomaches, bags n boxes full of sticky dango and fresh glistening apples the shades of a red autumn, and giddy smiles coupled with painted strawberry blush that dusts your cheeks and stains your ears. and if, throughout that entire vivid night of fireworks and sweet n savory scents drifting from stalls and the treats in the hands of vivacious children, you happen to get some crumbs or powder on your cheeks, he's more than happy to wipe it away with an affectionate thumb and earnest smile— or even lean in for a taste straight from your flushed skin.

on the topic of his side job in the private sector, though- yoshida prefers to keep you as far away as possible from the side of his life that's three feet deep and counting in missions at the Bureau. and of course, he takes no pleasure in lying to your face, especially when he realizes that you realize the half-assed mutters that fall from his lips don't answer the questions you demand answers to. 

he knows it's a necessity, though. so he never tells you the truth when it comes to this matter. 

but you can only see the tip of the iceberg of cold, guilty pain that washes over him when he watches your trust in him slip like you're loosing your footing; the excuses he spins that you don't buy and the way he feels like he's being scrutinized beneath your burning gaze as your eyes rove over the rough cuts on his arms and the blooming purple bruise on his jaw that you know isn't a love mark (or at least, you hope so. your mind won’t let you consider the possibility.) makes him feel guiltier than ever. on every other occasion, he never shies away from your gaze; for one, he’s well aware of how attractive he is, but all the compliments and shy confessions he’s ever received feel minuscule when you look at him like he’s your world, so loving that it seems to make the sun shine an inkling brighter and the birds outside his window sing a little sweeter amongst the symphony of nature. but on less pleasant occasions, when it feels like you’re appraising him— no. not just him. appraising his words, weighing them on a golden scale that’s supposed to be unbiased towards the truth, but your heart can’t take the strain when you consider the possibility of him lying to you, and he feels more distant from you every time you look at him in a way that makes him want to shrink away and shut himself up from your prying eyes that he knows are only well-intentioned— which is all the more reason why he falters under the weight of them.

but it’s not like he’d ever tell you that, though. so really, it’s up to you to decide how you act; to probe him and risk a few unintentionally harsh words aimed in your direction in the hopes of confronting the issue head-on before it’s too late, or simply sit back and let it fester until it’s grown out of control and manifests into a hurtful argument for both parties. miscommunication is the enemy to your relationship :(

that being said, yoshida is a bit of a control freak. when things don’t go the meticulous way he’s planned them out, he starts to loose his cool pretty easily, stressing his pretty head off about this and that, biting on his lip and curling a hand into his dark hair. really, though, it’s a simple fix— he tends to get overwhelmed easily only when it comes to things like this, n so all you have to do is tear him away from whatever’s preoccupying him and hold him, soothe his nerves by running your hands through his hair and rubbing gentle circles into his back. like i said, acts of service are really meaningful to him, esp w his line of work— makes him feel all fuzzy on the inside, like there’s a cluster of stars in his chest, his heart stuttering like a broken engine and a bouquet of lilies flowering in his stomach, petals clogging his throat and making it impossible for him to voice his gratitude. and so, after he calms down, he’ll take your hand and pepper little kisses on your knuckles until you ask him to stop with a bright smile and a laugh that sounds like the trickling melody of a running spring water stream.

but that’s an if, though. yoshida might not always manage to calm down— and sometimes his frustration will get the better of him. it might be difficult to manage; he’s so composed and collected for the most part that the meticulous patience required to deal with his boiling vexation might be unfamiliar to you, so it’ll be a bumpy slope. so try to be understanding in the case that he ever snaps at you, and know that he never means to hurt someone as important to him as you. give him time, and he’ll come around. <3

[bozawarriorsposting]

The Damned Four Warriors AU

You know all those cats that everyone in the fandom always asks how they got into Starclan, what if Starclan themselves started asking that same question?

This AU follows four cat's that were let into Starclan originally now being put into 'probation' after they don't improve as people in the slightest. Four spirits get sent back to the mortal realm and do Starclan's (Clear Sky's) will or get booted to the Dark Forest. I am not entirely sure what that 'Will' is mind you, but things from fighting back Dark Forest spirits (which are a bit more "dark nightmare creatures" in this AU) and orchestrating some of Starclan's less ethical mortal meddling. Essentially, every time Starclan begins to screw cats over and random events happen that allow for prophecies to succeed, these four are the ones sent to do it. Suicide Squad but with Ghost Cats if you will.

Now, you might say that throwing a bunch of already angered and restless spirits who all died violently into situations which will only further anger and hurt them isn’t a good way to make them better, and you would be right.

The line up:

Mudclaw: His coup attempt enraged Starclan and there was a lot of debate, but his life of being basically a model Warrior: traditionalist, brave, ready to fight, and reverence for Starclan got him enough good boy points for them to let him in. Also his 'lawyers' (spirits on his side) basically just blamed Hawkfrost for everything. However, he was not content with this, and as Mudclaw increasingly began to stew in rage and bitterness over his smiting and Starclan's intervention in Windclan, they started getting nervous. Starclan spirit's do have some power over the real world, not a lot, but enough to where one rogue Starclan spirit could cause a lot of problems. So they kicked Mudclaw into this group to keep him under control and generally just give him something to do.

Ashfur: Was let in for generally the same reasons as Mudclaw, but slightly less so. He wasn't that exceptional of a warrior, but Starclan was currently still panicking over the existence of The Three. Ashfur was convincing enough and the Higher spirits didn’t really want to deal with anything regarding any of the three for now (also they don’t particularly like Squirrelflight) so they generally just gave him the benefit of the doubt. As his obsession continued in Starclan however, the powers that be basically saw the plot of TBC coming. Ashfur is here so they can keep an eye on him and keep him away from anything important.

Needletail: Out of the four, she is the one that Starclan came closest to just chucking into the dark forest. The whole “Kin” incident angered them greatly, as Clancats betrayed their own at the whims of rogues. Her heroic sacrifice won them over enough to let her in, but Needletails general aversion to authority and caustic side remained. Basically, when they got this idea, she was already on the short list of cats they wanted gone.

Appledusk: After Mapleshade went on a rampage (which was partially their fault) they wanted someone to blame alongside Mapleshade, so they settled on Frecklewish. However, as Maple then became a major river demon that drowned apprentices and inflicted generational curses, fingers started pointing again. With everyone else involved being either a leader or a medicine cat (both of which would implicitly lay blame on Starclan) Appledusk was the next one up to get thrown under a bus.

The four are thus no longer Starclan cats, they have been cut off from the stars and their connections to the ancestral plain (I will go more into that later). They can freely roam the earth and each have certain powers that let them influence the mortal world. Also, due to them not being associated with Starclan, at least officially, they can be made easy scapegoats if things go wrong and either the mortals or other Starclan cats start having questions.

This is all overseen by Clear Sky, (if this is a suicide squad anaology, he is the “Amanda Waller”) who was ‘chosen’ (decided) to guide them and punish them if necessary. He is essentially a lesser god and the one that gives them their orders. The question of what is Starclan’s will and what is HIS will is one that tends to pop up.

Overview of all the characters, subject to change based on how I think they would act and also on any new ideas

Feel free to ask questions and also suggestions, this is very barebones so I would be happy to develop it. The cast is not set in stone, or the lore, or the story, or much of anything.

[needlefail]

Big ass moon 🌙

[quiverpaw]

get yourself a family line that keeps getting fucked up by big animals

[smewduck]

MAY I INTRODUCE YOU TO HER

this is from memory the version of Night that existed first and i never drew her before her appearance and character changed again lol SO IM DOING THIS FOR MY 12-13(?? holy shit?)-YEAR-OLD SELF

funniest thing about this is I'm pretty sure she was power-hungry. lmfao.

[send-me-a-kae-via-subspace]

joehills, the head witch

listen, the abacus in witchcraft was just. too good to pass up.

[eeveekitti]

WC/RW DAY 15: SLIVER OF STRAW

not much is known about silverstar, the founder of drizzleclan.

she hasn't been seen in starclan since the flood. it has caused turmoil amongst our cats.

make my message clear to your seniors, little one. the clan must carry on without the will of starclan.

a flat version for all your coloring needs!

[exocynraku]

scorchrains parents

stoatbushs parents