WCO's Open Writing Book!

[crow.]

write anything you want (within guidelines) here! whether it's a loredump, poetry, short story, headcanons or more!

This is open to all members of WCO, no need to ask! Just post away! (if the writing was not made by you, please give credit to the original source)

Finally, this is meant to be a source of inspiration and community inclusion!

[Tallstar]

Still thinking of a name
Vinesmoke’s paws are worn and scarred,
He tunnels deep, though the world is hard.
With blue eyes dull, he works through night,
His body thin, his spirit tight.

Many friends have slipped away,
Each loss a burden, each a price to pay.
He overworks to fill the hole,
Filling hours, numbing soul.

Lovers came, but none would stay,
Their warmth would fade, they’d drift away.
His heart ached, but he dug on,
Hoping the pain would soon be gone.

Cursed, he thinks, by fate and grief,
His blue eyes lost in brief relief.
He burrows deeper, never still,
Chasing peace that never will.

For Vinesmoke lives in endless toil,
A cat who digs through soil and spoil



Vinesmokes Lovers
Owlpaw was bold, a guardian strong,
Her heart was fierce, her will was long.
She stood beside him through every fight,
But death took her in the silent night.

Wildfire was wild, a boy untamed,
His love like fire, forever named.
He burned too bright, too quick to last,
And vanished like smoke, a shadow cast.

Littlepaw, with eyes soft and shy,
Watched him from the shadows, never asking why.
She loved him quietly, with a heart so true,
But never spoke, and never knew.

Vinesmoke digs where shadows fall,
Unaware of love’s sweet call.
Owlpaw’s gone, Wildfire’s flame is spent,
And Littlepaw’s love remains silent, bent.

He tunnels deep, his heart closed tight,
Not knowing love that once burned bright.
Three hearts that loved, yet none he knew—
While Vinesmoke digs, and love fades too.

[BlowingBubbles]

Connor is strange,
He sometimes can be a pain,
But he is really great,
Definitely not second rate,
Has a really sweet heart,
(I really like that part)
He's great at shooting bullets,
But I really hate his mullet,
He's a really awesome guy,
and I hate to say goodbye,
But maybe it's for the best,
That makes me feel depressed,
But whatever the reason,
And whatever the season,
Whatever I do,
I will not forget you.
Can you do the same?
Will you still remember my name?
Will you remember?
The time we met last september?
I guess we shall see,
If you also remember me.
My dearest, dearest Connor,
It has been such an honor,
To get to know you this past year,
But here is my greatest fear,
That you will soon forget,
That we ever even met,
You'll leave me here in sorrow,
and forget me by tomorrow.
You'll find someone else to adore,
And I shall have to endure,
And watch you fall in love,
I'll sit here, mourning like a dove.



I sit and watch in despair,
As you are unaware,
Just how strong my feelings are,
But now you shall move afar,
You’ll move on with your life,
No longer calling me your future wife
No longer desiring to grab my hand,
No! I just don’t understand,
Why should this happen to us?
I just can’t seem to adjust,
Do we deserve this fate?
Do we deserve to carry all that weight?
Do we deserve to feel this pain?
Why can’t you just remain?
Simply where you are right now?
I just don’t understand how!
How do you stand it?
I just don't understand it!
Does your heartache like mine?
I know I shouldn’t whine!
But I can’t just watch you leave!
Because I still believe,
That we might have a chance,
And a possible romance.
Do you think that too, my dear?
Or will you still disappear?



My heart is breaking
My soul is aching
My mind is reeling
I can’t control what I’m feeling
All this sorrow
Will not be gone by tomorrow
I have to watch you go
I have to sit here, and grieve.

[CanukiTanuki_Fox]

first few chapters of washed thunder: newest fanfic


Chapter One:

Cypressdew hated her legacy.

Yeah, being the only living descendant of Firestar was super overrated. Dawnstar refused to appoint her as deputy. Featheredcrest refused to acknowledge that she should be deputy instead of him. And most aggravating of all, Gorseblow had to drop everything he was doing and rush to her side when her friends barely touched her.

Legacies really are the worst.

So she had to come up with a way to fall from grace. Cypressdew wanted kits. But then she would pass on the legacy to her poor children. Sorry, unborn kits.

Stupid ThunderClan.

She was sitting in the clearing, with Dawnstar announcing how six kits had become apprentices.

And none of them were apprenticed to her.

With a shortage of warriors in the Clan, you’d think they could cough up one measly kit for her to train.

But noooo.

Gorseblow had two apprentices. So did Stormclover. Fiveclaw had three.

After she was forced to cheer - cheer! - for the babies who would live their lives better than she ever would, she pulled herself into her den seething.

The next day, she was assigned to some random border patrol that Dawnstar probably just wanted so she could get exercise. Must keep Firestar’s only descendant in top physical form to terrify the other Clans.

Running ahead of the group, Fawnspots calling for her to slow down, she saw a rogue.

He didn’t seem like just any old rogue.

He was lazing on a rock like he owned the whole forest. Like ThunderClan didn’t exist.

And she liked that. Franky, Cypressdew’s whole life would have been much less complicated if ThunderClan didn’t exist.

She stepped up to the rogue. “You’re trespassing,” she declared. His left eye opened lazily, as if to dismiss her. “So?” he asked. He rolled over and away from Cypressdew.

Okay. She only had a few minutes to talk to this rogue before her patrol caught up and he was gone forever. She pawed at him. This time, he stood up. “Why did you have to do that?” he complained. “I was having a very nice nap,”

The nerves of some cats. “Follow me,” she said, running as fast as she could away from the rest of her patrol. She did it with little noise, but the rogue crashed into trees and made it very obvious where he was. She whispered, “Be quieter! Even StarClan could hear you!” When they finally crashed into the clearing, Cypressdew shook off leaves from her pelt and glared at the rogue. Before he could open his mouth, Cypressdew whacked him with her tail. “I was saving you, you ungrateful mouse. If the rest of my patrol had caught up to you….” She trailed off as she noticed the blue collar hanging around his neck. He wasn’t a rogue.

He was a kittypet.

She stepped back. If you hated Firestar’s legacy, you also hated kittypets. The worn blue of the collar was barely noticeable among the kittypet’s dark silver fur. His amber eyes peered back at her nervously as she backed away. “Why do you suddenly hate me?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Aargh. She wished he hadn’t done that. Now she felt all weird and warm. And vulnerable. That was not fun. She hissed, squishing the cozy feelings down like a bug that had crawled under her paw. He backed away.

“Should I… leave now?” he asked, tone softening. “Um, no,” replied Cypressdew. “I, er, still need to consult you all about why you were in ThunderClan territory. Like your name. And how long have you been a kitty-”

“Quinn,” he interrupted. “My name is Quinn.” His face got all crinkly and weird.

“I’m Cypressdew,” she said, taking a step towards the kittypet. “Of… ThunderClan.” Suddenly, she growled. What. Was. This. Her heart was starting to swell. And she did NOT like it. At all. Firestar’s descendant was not in love with a kittypet. That would be breaking the warrior code! And what would happen to all of ThunderClan’s values? They could be washed down her throat with moss - wait. Breaking the warrior code. Dishonoring Firestar. That was her life’s goal.

And Cypressdew started to come up with a plan.

Chapter Two:

Well, this day was going great! Quinn had woken up and said hello to his housefolk. Then he had almost caught a mouse. And, just about an hour ago, he had been woken up by an orange tabby with some major trust issues. It was obvious. He’d always had a knack for reading cats.

The way Cypressdew held her tail. How she grimaced when she saw his collar. When she talked about ThunderClan - what was that? Her rogue group? - how her gaze lowered, as if she felt she didn’t belong there. And she growled!

So. After using his incredible housecat powers of deduction, Quinn concluded three things.

One was that she had some duty she didn’t want. But it was forced upon her.

Two was that she had some issue with housecats. Maybe whatever ThunderClan was didn’t like them.

And third and finally was that she hated ThunderClan. She either felt like she didn’t belong, or… maybe she didn’t.

Concluding these points, she was born a housecat but left to join ThunderClan and they made her the leader!

“What’s it like, being the leader of ThunderClan?” he asked. Cypressdew looked confused and surprised. She must not have known how good his detective skills were! “Mouse-brain. I’m not the leader of ThunderClan.”

“You’re not?” Now it was Quinn’s turn to be confused.

“No! I’m… well, I should be the leader. But Dawnstar….” She hissed again.

Quinn was still confused. His powers had never been wrong before! Or… maybe they weren’t powers. Maybe they were just him guessing easy things. And being correct. Well then! He needed to try again.

“You’re a former housecat and you want to be leader but Dawnstar is leader instead?” he asked.

“That’s actually pretty close. But no. Dawnstar is this old calico with more respect for a dead cat than for living ones… and barely any sense on her shoulders,” said Cypressdew. She took a pause. “And I’m not a kittypet!” she finished.

Quinn sniffed. It smelled like more Cypressdews were coming his way?

“Oh, StarClan,” muttered Cypressdew. “Those are my bodyguards,” She gagged. “Quinn, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you. Tomorrow. I promise.” And she ran away like the wind.

Quinn watched her as she ran with a dreamy look on his face. After walking into a tree, he shook his head and meandered back to his housefolk.

I wonder if she likes me too.

[Rowan]

of claw and cold and flame

In the cradle of stone where the storm winds cry,
Where eagles wheel in a thunder-patched sky,
The Atari rise, with snow in their veins—
Warriors shaped by the mountain’s chains.

There walks Ares, carved of fire and frost,
Each step a drumbeat, each scar a cost.
Eyes like embers, burning bold and clear,
A soul too loud for silence or fear.

Once soft, now mountain-made,
He walks the path the brave have laid.
Not crown nor claw, yet fate runs deep—
In every breath, the spirits speak.

He is the spark in the coldest night,
The defiant howl mid coyote fright.
Where others falter, he only stands—
Blood on his claws, storm in his hands.

He doesn’t kneel to gods or name,
But guards his kin all just the same.
The mountain knows him, wind knows too—
The oath he bears, the things he’ll do.

So sing of Ares, fierce and proud,
A voice like thunder, never cowed.
The tribe may tremble, bend, or break—
But not the one the blizzards wake.