#tunnel family

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

Not A Bad Cat (short story)

Gorseheart halted mid-groom, his tongue just barely brushing the hairs of his mate’s neck. “Froststorm?” he called, alarmed, at the distant figure running towards them. 

Emberdawn opened her eyes and, within a heartbeat of seeing her daughter’s expression, shot to her paws and ran to meet her. “What’s happening?” she asked while Froststorm gasped for breath. “Where’s Molechive and Lightswan? I thought you were with them.”

Froststorm’s chest heaved. “They…stayed back…I ran….I had to get…you have to…” 

Gorseheart ran his tail along her side. “Breathe, honey.” Dread filled the pit of his stomach like rocks. What was happening? Why did Froststorm have to run to them?

“We didn’t know what to do, but you do,” Froststorm explained unhelpfully.

“Know what?” Emberdawn pressed.

“There’s…there’s a kit…”

—-

Gorseheart and Emberdawn followed quickly after Froststorm after she took a few more moments to rest. As they moved, Gorseheart felt anger guide his storming paws, claws gripping the earth wherever they landed. Another kit. Another kit rejected by StarClan! Didn’t they understand how dangerous it was here? Didn’t they understand they were sending kits to a potential second death? For what? Because they were too young to fully grasp their actions?

“Here,” Froststorm told them, slowing. 

Ahead of them, Lightswan seemed to be standing guard, glaring at the surrounding shadows. 

Molechive lay crouched, eyes wide and uncertain at what Gorseheart had first assumed to be a dark patch of ground. Then he realized that it was a kitten–a small one. 

Both sagged their shoulders in relief when they saw Gorseheart and Emberdawn.

Gorseheart’s heart twisted–this kit was the youngest yet.

The kit had dark grey fur and a white throat. He shivered heavily, though from fear or the cold of this forest, he wasn’t sure. He would think both, but the way the kit was pressing against Molechive’s shoulders had him thinking otherwise.

Emberdawn leaned and whispered into his ear. “He’s too young to even understand that he should be scared.” She echoed his own thoughts.

Sure, the kit appeared wary and looked at the cats with confusion and disquietness. But that was because these were strangers in a strange land. If this little tom really knew where he was, really understood it, he would have run and hid at the first sight of another cat, and he would be trembling so strongly that Gorseheart would be seeing two of him.

Gorseheart lowered onto his belly and crept closer, keeping a comfortable distance for the tom. “Hello, little one. My name is Gorseheart. What’s your name?”

“Ashkit,” the kit answered, staring at him with green eyes as wide as the moon on a Gathering night. 

“Hi Ashkit,” Emberdawn greeted from her place lying beside Gorseheart. “Do you know where you are?”

Ashkit let out what sounded like a whimper. “Somewhere bad. I did bad.”

Emberdawn let out a gentle hum. “We all do bad,” she reassured him. “No one is perfect.”

Ashkit shook his head. “I think I hurt my friends,” he wailed.

That made the family pause for a few moments as they processed that this little kit could have hurt someone, and a little more as they debated how to respond. 

“Do you feel bad about it?” Gorseheart asked.

Ashkit nodded vigorously. 

“Then you’re not a bad cat,” he told the little one simply. “Because bad cats don’t feel bad when they hurt someone, okay?”

Throughout their talking, Gorseheart had slowly crept closer and closer towards the kit. Now he stretched a paw, half-expecting the kit to flinch away as he brushed it testingly against his side. When Ashkit showed no sign of wanting to get away or wanting Gorseheart to leave, Gorseheart moved closer until the kit sat between his front paws. “So you’re a good cat, you just made a mistake.”

“I made mistakes,” Molehchive chimed in quickly, watching the kit. 

Gorseheart purred, proud of how fast Molechive jumped in to reassure the kit as well.

“I made mistakes,” Froststorm added. 

Lightswan and Emberdawn followed suit with their own admissions. 

“I hurt my friends, too,” Gorseheart went on. His heart twisted, and tore a little more when Ashkit looked up at him with those eyes that were so curious and sad and innocent all at once. “And I feel really bad about it.”

Emberdawn pressed against his side.

“Do you think I’m a bad cat?” he asked the kit.

Ashkit blinked, then shook his head.

“Well, I don’t think you’re a bad cat either.” He let the words hang for several long, long heartbeats before deciding to humour the kit. “But you are stinky!”

Ashkit giggled, caught off guard. “I’m not stinky!” he protested. 

Gorseheart sniffed his fur. “I think you are,” he replied, “very, very stinky!”

Ashkit batted at his snout.

“I think it’s you!” Emberdawn decided. She made a show of pressing her nose against Gorseheart’s shoulder and taking a long, hard sniff. Then she pulled her head back dramatically, wrinkling her muzzle. “It is you! You’re the stinky cat!”

Ashkit giggled harder, little teeth glinting in the red light. 

Froststorm joined in. “You need a bath!”

“A big one!” Lightswan added, holding a paw up to stifle her laughter.

“Hey! Why am I being ganged up on?”

“Because you smell,” Emberdawn answered.

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Gorseheart sighed. “Hey, Ashkit, do you want to come with us to our warm den and help me get all this stink off?” He added, whispering in the kit’s ear, “or help me hide from everyone who wants to give me a bath–ew!”

Ashkit nodded, grinning so wide that his mouth practically touched both ears. 

“I can carry you, if you like,” Lightswan offered. 

Ashkit paused, thinking with very readable expressions, then ran over to her.

“Do you want to share my nest?” Molechive offered, following beside them. “It’s got the comfiest moss.”

“Well, my den is the warmest,” Froststorm contested.

“I’ll teach you all the cool moves!”

Emberdawn and Gorseheart followed behind their kits, purring so hard that their bodies shook. Anger still swelled deep within Gorseheart’s chest. It had been there since they found Lightswan–then Brokenkit–and he was sure it would be there forever. But as he watched and listened as their kits welcomed and supported who would hopefully be the new addition of their family, he was overcome by immense pride.

================

--Since Lightswan, Molechive, and Froststorm were all adults by the time Ashmint joined as a two-moon old kit, they were all very welcoming towards him. It's a mix of "I know what it was like to show up here as a kit" and "I want to be the coolest big bro/sis."

--The siblings were hanging out when by chance they found this kit and pretty much all went "UH UH UH WHAT DO WE DO UH....GET MOM AND DAD THIS IS THEIR EXPERTISE."

--Gorseheart would want it to be known that he does not actually stink.....no more than any other resident.

--

Ashmint belongs to @ambitiousauthor

Molechive and Froststorm belong to @wills-woodland-warriors

Lightswan belongs to @liberhoe

I was originally gonna have Light be the one getting them, but wanted to give Frost some love. Plus something tells me Light wouldn't want to leave the kit.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Happy Scars

Wanted to draw one of the Tunnel Poly kits!

As he got older, Adderclaw got quite a few scars in scuffles. He sees it as no big deal, it's all fun for him. In the Dark Forest, no one holds a grudge against someone that gives them scars. It's just what you do.

He gets something from all of his parents.

From Fox, he gets his sense of humour and energy.

From Ember, he gets his agility and cleverness.

From Gorse (bio), he gets his build, pelt, nose, and ear colours and fascination with mythical creatures in stories.

From Birch (bio) he gets his tabby trait, eye colour, and almost perpetually joyful mood.

His tongue is a mix of Gorse and Birch.

@starfalcon555

============

Base: F2U - Longhair Icon by Rexolete on DeviantArt

Background: [2019] Dark Forest Background [Feel free to use] by Kirabeans on DeviantArt

[lavender-menace-420]

AU where the others find out Jon is going to explore the tunnels in Season 2 and forcefully tag along (Sasha is alive and everything is fine)

I made a part 2!

[crowleycorvid]

Thinking about Hutchins and Harumi I'm so ill. Garmadon Rulez did something to me. He sang her to sleep every night. He took her to libraries so she could research despite her parents disapproving. He gave her that journal to help her cope with her trauma.

He didn't have to do any of this. None of these things were because of his obligation to the royal family really and in fact he sort of went behind their backs taking her to the library of domu (even if it took some convincing). He was the first to suspect her of her plans but didn't tell anyone, not even the ninja when he definitely had a proper chance to. I think he genuinely just cared about her. And that's making me so

[infamous-empire]

Watching the real-time election results while doomscrolling politics tags is probably the most actively stressful thing I could conceivably do, and yet I’m doing it anyway

[introspectivememories]

it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a bernard down in possession of an empty lap, must be in want of a tim drake to sit in it

[prolibytherium]

Beautiful friendship

[echo-starflower]

I FINISHED THE GUY!!!!!!

(Pattern by @ghost-cinnamon)

He’s perfect and I love him

But Echo! some of you might ask, isn’t the body supposed to be red like his bones? To that I say! 1: I’m impressed you saw it under the layers of clothes! /silly and 2!

BAH BAM

Embroidery!!!!! (I’m so proud of this hehe it turned out way better than I expected. Also faceless doll jumpscare>:3)

And of course, credit must be given to my amazing little sibling whose immediate reaction to seeing my doll was “ooo he’s spooky! He needs a top hat!!!!”

(She proceeded to make not one but two top hats hehe)

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

fuck it maybe i will project my chronic pain onto the batfamily

[cthulhusstepmom]

It's dark in the cellar, has been since they were tossed down here however many days ago. Hard to tell time without regular meals. Completely windowless, there's no place to spend his usual half hour basking under the sun. It had been a matter of hours before his coldblooded body had started to slow in the cool subterranean temperatures. He'd tried to keep it to himself, deal with it quietly, but there's no way to hide it from Gid, steadfast loyal Gid. Kremy had found his sluggish form gathered unceremoniously close to the living furnace that is his right hand man.

The heat may have stabilized his body temperature but it would do nothing to improve his mood(well maybe just a little bit it's hard to be too miserable when you're so nice and warm no matter the dire circumstances). Gideon took care of light well enough too, illuminating a circle around them with dancing warm firelight, though that was extinguished as soon as Kremy saw it start to waver and flicker, can't allow his partner in crime to burn himself out now can he? And so they sit in an almost peaceful silence, have done for who knows how long.

"Y'know it's not the worst bind we've gotten ourselves into. The gang will be along soon enough to bust down the door." Gid pauses in thought. "Probably not Twigsy. Or Frosty. Or Gricko unless he's a beasty. Probably down to Torbek to do the door busting come to think of it."

Kremy grunts noncommittally.

"Ah don't be like that, can't be worse than the time we had to climb out of the window of that inn."

"The snake oil heist on the western bank?"

"Nah the one with the innkeepers daughter, Felicity? Franny?"

He remembers that particular scrap well, if only because of the god awful wig.

"Felicia. How that veil covered my snout I will never rightly know."

Gideon snorts.

"Oh yeah. Sure would've been nice to know Gricko was an ordained minister before hand but it's not the first time we've been married."

Kremy hums. "Can't say it's the worst contract I've signed."

The warm body next to him rolls with deep, hearty laughter. The room goes silent for another spell before Kremy sighs.

"I dunno Gid, you ever get the feeling that we've taken it too far? Finally poked the bear that's gonna rip our throats out?"

"Nah man, I know you'll get us out of anything 'fore it gets too serious. Even if we end up knee deep in Fae tomfoolery. And I'll punch any bear that tries to bite us square in the body till it dies, no problemo." He pauses. "I trust you Kremy Lecroux."

That knocks the speech right off of his tongue.

Trust.

On a conceptual level he got that there was some form of reliance between the two of them, and sure some trust if you had to put a non-ironic label on it. He knows that Gideon cares for him, has stated it on many occasions in many different ways. And if you had to be so crass as to put it into words, of course he cares for Gid too, wouldn't have bothered keeping him around this long if he hadn't(lord knows the food bill would be enough to sway his opinion if he wasn't entirely too attached by now).

But trust?

Trusting Kremy Lecroux is a bad idea on any number of levels. He's a cheat by profession and a liar by lifestyle. Hell he's sold the souls of those around him in exchange for power more than once. There's nothing worth trusting in him, he's a coldblooded criminal and he's never gonna change, not for anybody. And here Gid is announcing it with his full chest. It's one of those things that's so endearing about him, he never holds back; Gideon Coal has never made a promise he doesn't fully mean. But since he's a man of contracts and business dealings he at least wants to give him a fair shot, a head start, a warning to keep that fiery heart close.

"You sure about that Gid? Those kinds of words have a power to em you know that."

"100% man, I'll follow you to the end of the world."

Kremy struggles to get air into his lungs, it takes a minute, two. When he finally gets enough to speak, it's frustrated and tinged with melancholy.

"Well I'll gladly let you do just that, if we ever get out of this fucking place."

"Hey." Kremy offers no response. "C'mon man don't be that way, the crew are all out there figuring their way in as we speak, fact I can smell the Torbek already."

He says nothing.

"I know what'll cheer you up."

A large, warm hand cups the bottom of his snout, gently directing his face up and to the side. Before he can think to protest, his eyes are drawn to the sudden lick of flame dancing on the tip of Gideon's finger. Not unlike when he lights cigarettes for him, except now he's pressing the pad of the digit to a small twig from the rocky floor until it smolders dully. Blowing on it, Gideon brings the small stick towards his face. It's warm but not uncomfortably so (he'd never had a doubt in his mind that Gid would hurt him). Carefully, precisely, with hands steady from working on the delicate innards of machines he can't begin to comprehend, Gideon draws the ashen tip of the stick across his upper lip in two swooping lines.

"There you already look more like yourself!" He proclaims proudly.

And god if he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch Gideon Coal, you know that?"

"Been told once or twice." he chuckles.

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

More Tunnel Grandbabies

The four on the left are kits to Haretuft, who is bio GorseXBirch

The two on the right are Larksnow's kits (also bio GorseXBirch). He became mates with one of Rooklight's kits and they reproduced with the help of a surrogate. (light kit is bio Lark's, dark kit is bio Rookbaby).

Unfortunately, the surrogate died in childbirth. Luckily, Haretuft was still nursing her kits at the time, and so the six here were raised more like littermates, at least for the first part of their lives. But guilt still weighs heavily on the family. After all, if they haven't asked their mother to be a surrogate, she never would have died.

That's why MrGrumpy over there is always in a bitter mood, because someone--his mother, even if she was only meant to be a surrogate--had to die for him to be here. And maybe that's why he's more distant, because he resents his cousins for still having their parents.

----

Haretuft's mate looks like this:

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Base: Base cat f2u by JUCZEK3000 on DeviantArt

(I know there's no tail on the other cat's head and it's meant to be hair tufts, but I thought this was fun).

===========

@starfalcon555

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

@starfalcon555 you suggested designs but I saw them a tad late (after I finished Thorn's, who was the first)

At first I thought Half wasn't able to have white spots, but then I remembered that Gorse's bio mother is partly white.

The parents are Gorse and Ember, reason being that in the story they are mentioned, they are said to be the second-youngest litter with Birchflight carrying the youngest, and I don't think that Birch got pregnant twice in a row lmao. And Gorse is the father because the names connect to him the most.

Finding Mallow was definitely a 'oh that feels odd to hear that name' and then the kit with a half-white face was born and that probably sparked the "naming all of them after his old friends" thing.

Thorn: tom (and flamboyant af)

Fire: trans tom

Half: she-cat (and mute!)

-----

Bases:

Half

Thorn

Fire

[olympeline]

I’m in the mood for angst so here’s my take on the biggest personal demons of each member of the humanverse!FACE family. They’d be a close and loving unit but with some thorny issues to overcome before they get their happy ending:

Francis: Eating disorder. I imagine him working in fashion and no atmosphere is crueler when it comes to weight than Parisian cat walks. Even if he’s a designer and not a model, the pressure for the “face” of the Bonnefoy brand to stay slim and attractive would be huge. A lot of starving himself, living on coffee, awful fad diet “cleanses,” and even popping pills at his worst. Not to mention smoking like a chimney for the appetite suppressant. He’d also have some issues with helicopter parenting with the thirst for perfection leaking from work to family time. Not in a cruel way but more overbearing and micromanaging his sons’ time to try and give them the quote-unquote “best start” in life.

Arthur: Substance abuse. Guy was a punk in his teens and early twenties and the addiction got its claws into him good and deep. Mostly alcohol, but occasionally he might slip into harder things. Arthur would try to kick the habit again and again after Alfred and Matthew are born but would fall off the wagon many times. The twins learn early that if Papa isn’t home and they wake up to sounds of throwing up, they’ll need to make their own breakfast.

Alfred: Undiagnosed neurological condition and then a different kind of eating disorder when he gets older. The former being something with mania and difficulty focusing. Alfred is smart but school would be a chore because it’s so hard for him to sit still. And growing up watching Francis and Arthur’s various issues with food (and drink) left a dark impression. Alfred finds solace in sports when school is tough but the desire to be the best sets him on a path of impossible physical standards. Then he cracks, stuffs himself, falls into a cycle of binge and purge, and Arthur isn’t the only one throwing up and trying to hide it by running the taps to muffle the sound.

Matthew: Glass sibling syndrome. Alfred and his problems monopolised the family focus growing up and Matthew had to make do with what was left over. This left Matthew quiet and anxious but also defeated and with deeply buried anger and resentment towards his twin. He learnt young that trying to compete for the spotlight was pointless so why bother. That rage and bitterness simmers, deep down, and the rest of the family are shocked when quiet, gentle Matthew is suddenly lashing out and getting into fights when he hits his mid-teens. Matthew never learnt how to control his anger and now it’s controlling him.

This family gonna need some serious therapy I tell ya hwat 🥲

[puppetmaster13u]

have a very early wip of a tea party :>

This is @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au

[sallytwo]

... The poem may be an elegy for childhood losses.

(On Dream Song 29, Thomas Travisano)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families