Chapter #1 Of My Fanfiction, Cult Of The Lamb: Redemption Is Out Now On My Ao3 Account! It's Rooney_2108,

The Yellow Cat's Name??

I've seen a few different writers and fanart makers call the yellow cat by different names: Theron, Theo, Thistle, Joon, Lemmy, etc. I was thinking about using Theo or Joon, or maybe something original with this cool Cotl name generator I found?

Idk, what do you guys think? Any names you guys like better? Any you hate? Yada yada. Opinions and suggestions are wanted homies, and I'll see ya when I post tomorrow.

As requested - from @yuu-twisted (this is my main)

Thank you my lord and savior 🙏

I have to fight tooth and nail for more gems to get more pulls, but if I manage to get one of them, it's all thanks to you homie, and I will be posting about it while singing 'You Raise Me Up' by Josh Groban.

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #1

(((TW: Mildly graphicly written suicidal thoughts and ideations - DON'T READ IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE)))

Pain - Narinder

Narinder didn't realize how much it would... Hurt.

To be free.

His arms hurt, his body hurt, and his head hurt.

As a god, he had never felt pain like this, which was the first of many signs that he was no longer divine.

And that terrified him. His arms hurt so badly he couldn't move them, and for a moment it felt like the ghosts of his chains still held him in place. His head ached from the light of the sun stabbing through the window of his home, into his light-sensitive eyes.

He can't move. His whole body feels like lead against the soft bed below him. Blankets weigh even heavier on top of him, adding to the feeling of being restrained. He wants to thrash around and escape from under them, but his limbs cramp up with every attempt he makes to move them.

And the jolt of fear that surges through him at that realization makes him want to scream out in agony and terror.

But centuries of captivity have taught him the uselessness of struggling. Have taught him patience. So he clamps his jaw shut and keeps his eyes sealed closed. Trying to listen.

He only just joined his usurpers cult as a follower yesterday, the adrenaline from their fight hadn't even left his system and suddenly the damn Lamb was showing him to his own private grand shelter, set up farther away from the other followers for 'safety purposes.' Whether the Lamb meant for him or the rest of the cult he still isn't sure.

He didn't know how to respond, he was tired. So very tired. He had never felt tired before, but this mortal body... He secured the shelter as soon as the Lamb was gone. Barricading the entrance, and windows, sealing himself inside before allowing himself to collapse into the bed and rest.

Now he's not sure how much time has passed, just that it is daylight, and that the adrenaline of everything that's happened has now left this newly mortal body of his in shambles.

Freedom. He had wanted it so bad, and now he has it, but it's nothing like he had hoped.

He is angry and miserable, he wants to scream and cry, and he wants to go back in time and wring that lamb's neck when he has the chance instead of handing over the crown to the filthy traitor. He feels like a fool, powerless, and afraid.

Trapped by something even worse than the chains his siblings had used on him. Pain.

Speaking of the Red Crown's new wearer, as if summoned like a bat out of hell, a banging on the dresser Narinder had shoved in front of the curtain door to prevent any other pathetic followers from wandering in, or worse the said lamb.

"Narinder! It's breakfast! Well- lunch, you missed breakfast, I tried to have Noon bring you some food, but they said you did... Well, this." Narinder can only assume they're referring to the barricade.

"Leave me be, wretched traitor, I have better things to do than mingle with your pathetic following over subpar mortal slop." His voice almost cracks when he tries to shift his weight to lay on his back mid-sentence.

Thus he remains on his side facing away from the entrance, his back to the sound of the lamb's voice. Something that causes a trickling of unease to build in his mind, which he tries his best to ignore for now.

"No-can-do! At least, not right now, you need to eat! You're mostly mortal now, and even if age can't kill you, starving sure can!" There's a nervous laughter in their voice as they continue to stand outside.

The Lamb could easily get through the barricade, with his fucking powers that they stole. So why they aren't just barging in with no respect for their former god and master's privacy or personal space, he has no clue.

"Starving? How pitiful do you think I am? 'Mostly mortal' or not, I will survive without food for a day. Now leave me alone." He's not sure that even if he wanted to, he could claw his way out to get food. Or that his violently churning stomach could hold it down.

His whole body feels like it's slowly spinning from the splinting pain of his head and he's certain that if his stomach wasn't empty he'd have puked by now.

"Okay, listen, I get that after everything that's happened, you want to be alone, and I'll leave you alone! After you eat something, because, sure, a day won't kill you, but when was the last time you ate during your godlyhood? I'm willing to bet never, at least not during your time chained up, and that can't have translated well to your new form." Nothing has translated well to this new damn form, and it makes him snap.

"What part of leave me alone don't you understand!? I'm not eating even if you shove it down my throat!- Ack!" He hisses and tries to, in a burst of anger-fueled energy, shove himself around onto his back.

Instead, the effort sends a cascade of cramping through his back and down his arms.

His body spasms and curls in on itself and he grits his teeth trying to stop the whimpering from escaping his lips. He sounds pathetic. He is pathetic. Fates save him from the humiliation of the lamb having heard his pain at least...

"What was that about!? Are you okay in there!?" 

It's like the universe hates him.

That's the only real reasoning he can come up with. Fate, the universe, and everything in between literally hate him. And for what? Wanting to be more than what everyone told him he was?

He calls bullshit. Fate is bullshit, and the universe is bullshit, and everything in between is bullshit.

He wants to bury his head under his pillow and stay there until time itself brings this whole world crashing to an end.

"Narinder? Do you need help? If you don't answer I'm coming in!" Once more the Lamb is banging on the dresser-made door.

"I'm fine! Go away! Don't make me tell you again!" The threat comes out strangled and weak.

Still, there is a long moment of silence. For a moment he lets himself hope that the usurper has done as he's asked, and left, but with no footsteps away to confirm this, he knows they are still out there. Perhaps carefully debating their next sentence.

"... I know I'm the last person you want to see, let alone accept help from, and trust me when I say right now the feeling is mutual, but Narinder... If you are in pain... Or you're sick and that's why you're not eating, please, just tell me... I'm only trying to help." Help?

Help?

"I think I'd rather lie down and let you kill me before I let you help me." The words are barely a hissed whisper, but he knows they hear him.

There's a sharp inhale and a frustrated groan. Along with footsteps pacing back and forth before they suddenly stop and respond again.

"Fine! But news flash One Who Waits! This is going to be a hard adjustment for you! And if you want to go through it alone and make it all the harder, then fine! Be alone! Stay in your shelter all day, every day, and starve! See if I care!" They shout at the door.

Sounding angry, and fed up.

"That's what I'm planning on doing!" It wasn't, but with the pain making it hard to move, it is now.

"Fine!" And he can hear them storming off, hooved feet kicking at the ground at random intervals as they do.

...

It's true. He'd rather suffer here alone than accept that traitors help.

You betrayed them first.

He saved their life! His pathetic Bishop kin would have executed them if he hadn't given them a new lease on life.

And all he asked was for a cult in his name, for them to free him from his chains, and return the crown to him.

And kneel and accept being sacrificed to you.

All of this... This pain, this headache, the dampness in the corners of his eyes that he's trying so hard to not let spread down his cheeks... It's all their fault.

They should have at least killed him. Why couldn't they at least finish the damn job? That pathetic, traitorous, coward. Keeping him alive just to suffer.

Surely they've done this on purpose? This was some twisted way to prolong his agony as if being imprisoned for thousands of years by his own family wasn't enough torture.

Damn them. Damn them and every last one of their dead kin.

He would rather starve. Starve to death and at least go on his own terms. Hell if he had the physical strength and a sharp enough tool he'd turn it on his wrist right now. The Lamb probably won't even come by to check on him for a long while after that spat.

So at least they would have a small respite before the cursed creature maybe resurrected them.

But no, his whole disgusting body was failing him. He would have to die the slow way.

In a sick way, he's curious about it. What does hunger feel like? Heket complained of it often, even while she was eating she would be complaining about needing another meal prepared. The Goddess of Famine knew hunger like no other.

But the concept was foreign to Narinder. He ate sometimes when he was a god. The feeling was strange. Things tasted good, like fish, but they served no other purpose than to satisfy his tastebuds.

His stomach never longed for anything. Never ached in hunger pangs, never churned with nausea from eating something bad...

His mortal body... It will wither without food. His stomach will concave as he loses weight, and he'll become weaker, sicker, and lethargic. His skin will stretch over his ribs and bones making him look like a skeleton with fur... A horrific sight, befitting of the former and rightful God of Death.

A true testament to his fall from power, into a form as tragic as this, that decays at the mere lack of sustenance for a few days.

Or more. How long will it take? He wonders.

For his organs to start failing. His heart will go first, and the rest will quickly follow, having strained for so long to keep him alive... What will be the last thing he sees? Probably darkness. The light is too bright in the daytime for him to bear keeping his eyes open.

That's okay. He's never been afraid of the dark.

Kallamar was. He was scared of a lot of things though. Including him.

Heket wasn't. Nor Leshy. The two slept like logs at night, while Narinder would wander awake with Shamura- being nocturnal beings by nature.

Sometimes...

Sometimes when they were both still little, and Kallamar had a bad day and was scared to go to bed, Narinder would sneak into his room, and distract him. Annoy him really, but deep down, he thinks his older brother appreciated it. Not being alone.

It only lasted a few years though, just before the squid reached his teen years and became completely insufferable.

...

What would they all think of him now? Preparing himself to rot from starvation... Would they think him weak for accepting such a defeat? For giving in to this mortal body's suffering and allowing himself to perish in such a pitiful way...

Would they want him to live? No. No, they wouldn't...

They'd enjoy this... Seeing him turn to skin and bone. Watching him suffer in too much pain to even move, much like when he was chained.

It isn't until the light starts to fade and he can open his eyes finally that he realizes he failed.

And now the entire spot where his head rests on his pillow is wet with tears.

In the darkness, he can only really see what's in front of him. His head refuses to lift itself up or move without pain.

He is staring right at a window, the red curtains are closed, and it's blocked off with a turned sideways dark wooden table, but moonlight peaks in from the sides and top.

There is a side table. With a vase of Camellias in the corner. Just like the one Baal used to wear on his robes.

...

In the end, they all died for nothing, didn't they? The lambs, the Bishops, Aym, and Baal...

Everything he was trying to do... All of his elaborate plans...

They've all amounted to nothing.

It's then that another knock, soft and gentle rings through the room.

"Narinder? I want to... Apologize. I lost my temper earlier. It's just... Difficult to be nice to you. I mean, you... You know what? It doesn't matter right now. I've decided, that if you don't want to accept my help, I can't force you to. But, I still don't want you to starve, and I don't think you want to either so... I'll just leave some food out here for you. I don't really know what you like, but it's a fish bowl... Will that do?" The Lamb.

Narinder is thirsty he realizes, because when he goes to speak his mouth is dry, and he has to choke the words out.

"Fine... It's fine..." He calls, and he can hear them hesitating.

"Can I ask again if you're okay?"

"No." He responds much more firmly this time, his voice still gravelly.

"Right... Well, I'll bring breakfast tomorrow."

And they're gone. Footsteps softly fade away like a ghost in the night floating off to find a new victim to haunt.

...

Why couldn't they have just killed him?

~~~

The pain is still there when he wakes up again, and his mouth is disgustingly dry. It is early morning, and the light is not yet intolerable though, and he will take that victory for what little it is.

It smells like it rained last night.

Something about that makes him feel better.

Despite the oily feeling of his filthy fur, matted with blood and dirt. Despite his body still cramping with the phantom chains tightening around them like a serpent choking the life out of its prey.

Despite everything the smell of fresh, chilly damp air... Refreshes him.

He feels lighter. Cleaner. Content.

He takes a deep breath and for a moment... Everything is... Okay.

He opens his mouth, trying to breathe in the humidity of the air, hoping it will help with the soreness in his throat.

"I thought you hated the rain?"

"I don't hate the rain, I hate getting wet. My fur gets all heavy and takes forever to dry, and if I use a towel, it makes it all poofy, and the others tease me."

"I see."

"But I like watching the rain. And the smell of rain... It smells... Like the sky's cleaning the earth. Making everything as good as new again."

And then... Everything comes rushing back to him.

Like an anvil falling onto his chest, and it's hard to breathe as he chokes on a loud, surprised sob. Tears invade his eyes, flowing down his face onto the pillow.

Nothing is okay. That peace he felt... Just a cruel trick of his mind, making him forget.

A momentary respite before the world came crashing back down on him. He can never be content again. Never be okay or at peace.

He is angry. Frustrated. Grieving. Confused about what he's grieving. Their deaths? Their souls are trapped eternally in a hellish limbo, re-living their deaths so that they can feel the same pain he had felt for thousands of years... That's what he'd wanted.

For them to suffer.

And yet still his chest hurts and his lungs are heaving, and his cries are so loud he has to turn his face into the pillow to muffle them. Why does this anguish for his family that turned against him haunt him now?

It must be this body. This pathetic mortal body with its hyper-sensitive emotions, and non-existent pain tolerance. It's done nothing but weigh him down, dragging him below the waves.

Drowning him in sensations, feelings, and emotions he doesn't understand. Suffocating him in pain, and grief that he can see no end to. This form betrays him at every turn and it's not even been 42 hours.

At least he thinks it hasn't been.

Most of his first day is a haze, he remembers sleeping through the pain for the most part. Then arguing with the Lamb through the barricade. Then sleeping again.

After of course, contemplating his inevitable starvation. And after speaking to the lamb again...

"Can I ask again if you're okay?"

They're going to bring him breakfast soon. He doesn't know if they'll come inside and set it down or just leave it on the ground outside for him.

Would he even be able to go get it?

It's now that he starts to realize some of the pain has subsided. Everything is still cramping, and his head still throbbing, but with the smell of the rain and the growling of his stomach...

He's able to turn onto his back and only has to stop for a minute to grit his teeth and breathe for a moment. The fur around his eyes and cheeks is still wet with tears, and his chest is still heavy. He tries to focus on the smell of rain, but it does little to ease his thoughts.

All it does is remind him of simpler times.

Before the pain, and the headache, and the nausea, and the humiliation of defeat still burning through his veins.

It's getting brighter in the room, and he's able to take a deep stuttered breath as his eyes close to block out the painful light of morning. He should get the sniffling under control before the lamb gets here.

The last thing he needs is for that malicious sheep to know he's been crying- because Narinder knows that the damned creature is too old to still be considered a lamb. Has been since before the bishops ever went to execute them, but he knows his siblings never cared for technicalities.

Hell at some point they probably even started enjoying committing mass genocide of all sheep to prevent his freedom. Rams, ewes, and lambs, none were spared. All precautions taken to keep him locked away... They must have hated him so much to turn so ruthless. To become feared monsters, rather than beloved gods.

All to keep him caged.

By the time the sun has risen and the room is painfully bright, like clockwork, the lamb is knocking on the 'door' of the shelter.

"Narinder? Are you awake? I still don't know exactly what you like to eat, so I brought you a mixed meal. I see you didn't eat the fish, so I'll throw that out I guess..." They call, and he struggles not to groan.

He had kind of wanted that fish. He liked fish and it's been a long... Long time since he's had the chance to eat any. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't fucking move.

And he was still standing strong on not asking for help from his usurper.

He could move a bit more today though. He could at least try and sit up and eat... Then again, he doubts he'll be able to move the dresser out of the way to grab the food.

He could ask the lamb to bring it inside as a plan B. That doesn't count as helping him. Right? But does he want the lamb to see him in this state?

Absolutely not.

So he's back to plan A. Starve.

Sounds good enough for him. Or at least it does until his stomach decided to growl obnoxiously loud.

"See! I knew you were hungry! Please, just come take the damn bowl, I don't want to leave it on the ground, the bugs or birds might get it! Or Theeno. He steals food a lot. I'm working on that." So they are going to make another fight out of this.

"I'll come and get it when I'm ready! And if your damn follower tries to nab it then he can expect my claws across his face!" He hisses, and the Lamb lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"You're getting on my nerves, Narinder, can I at least just come in and set it down?" Hm. An opening for plan B... He still doesn't want the Lamb to see him...

He's buried mostly in blankets and pillows, so if he tosses his aching body back towards the window, he doubts the Lamb would truly get a good look at him...

And then your back will be exposed, clear as day for a second knife to find purchase.

He tries to shake away the insecurity, and it's not hard when his stomach growls once more. What's the worst the sheep could do? Kill him? It's what he wants anyway.

Is it?

He just barely holds in a painful groan as he turns back onto his side, curling even further into himself as he does.

"Fine. But I'm not getting up, move the dresser yourself." He calls, only mildly breathless, as he tries to steady his breathing again.

"Great! I was kinda gonna come in anyway if you didn't respond." Oh, if he could move...

He might take his chances trying to wring their neck.

Instead, he clenches his teeth to keep the anger from seething out and keeps his ears tuned into the sound of the dresser being easily shoved aside, the sound of wood grating against wood.

"Okie-Doki, I'll just put this right here. That okay?" He can feel their black beady eyes on him, with their burning red pupils.

"Whatever, it's fine. Make sure you put that dresser back on your way out." He grumbles, flinching only slightly when hears the lamb step closer to him.

At the clear sight of said flinch they stop moving.

"Of course. Anything else you need? Are you okay? I was thinking about building a few upgrades onto your shelter since you clearly don't plan on leaving, and I can see having to use the bathroom becoming a problem in the near future. And bathing."

Right. Of course, this body is going to need to use the bathroom. And even when he was a little godling, he needed to bathe regularly. He hasn't had a bath since before he was imprisoned.

Poor Aym and Baal. standing beside a god that reeked of blood and death for all that time. He had grown jaded to the stench of death, but he was still aware that it must not be pleasant.

"Do whatever you want, so long as you don't disturb me." It would make it more convenient for his solitude, and prevent him from having to bite the bullet and ask for help to be carried to the outhouses- because he was not going to shit himself anytime soon.

God or not, he had to keep some of his dignity intact.

"Right, no disturbing your wallowing, got it. I'll set to those renovations ASAP, I'll even do them myself so none of the followers accidentally annoy you and get killed." He snorts at that. Almost laughs.

"Wise decision."

And like that, his dresser is being pulled back into place, with what sounds like little to no effort.

...

His stomach growls again.

Now to get this body to sit up and eat...

... This is going to take a while.

Cotl Fanfic - Thoughts & Opinions?

So, this is the first post on this new account and it's a question for my Cult of the Lamb fandom pookies. I just recently got the game and I'm obsessed with it and have been thinking about writing a BUNCH of fanfiction.

So I wanted notes and suggestions on some things, and I might even make polls on some of them, starting most importantly with the topic below:

Gender, Pronouns, and Sexuality that are so far, are solely based on vibes and what I've seen the rest of the fandom agreeing on (And canon of course):

- The Lamb's identity will probs change depending on the fic type, but for most of them they will be assigned male at birth, He/They & Pansexual. Simple and sweet because our lamb boi is just tryna SURVIVE out here in a cult of idiots that can't even cook their own food or clean up their own shit. (Is this just me wanting to write more he/they characters in my stories because I'm he/they? Yes. Yes, it is folks.)

- Narinder is transgender male He/Him. I'm making him transgender male because I said so. I want more trans rep guys, leave me alone. & Homosexual because if his whole vibe and personality doesn't scream gay angsty emo cat I don't know what else in this world does.

- Leshy is cisgender He/Him. I can imagine him experimenting with they/them though. I may include something on that... If anyone has any notes on that I'm all ears. Best Bi. His level of chaos just radiates ADHD bisexual with way too much energy and free time.

- Heket is cis-gender She/Her. The only girlie in the family, fates have mercy on her and her patience. A lesbian for sure. I think the whole fandom just sort of agrees on this, right? With like, lots of wives because she is a highkey baddie? At least that's the impression I've been given based on all of her fanart and simps.

- Calamari- Sorry, I mean Kallamar, is cis-gendered He/Him. I was thinking of making him a transgender man too? Idk, I've just been told the cis's need rep too, and it made me gag and now I want to wave my magic writer wand and make all the characters trans and nonbinary. Opinions on that are welcome. Anyway. A pansexual, and I hear he canonically had multiple spouses? Despite looking like he has zero rizz. I mean, damn. Good for him I guess. Go squid boy, go.

In this, he's gonna be single though, because I like the idea of him struggling to find new spouses and Heket laughing at his struggle.

- Shamura is absolutely nonbinary they/them. A friend has told me this is canon, and that people may gun for my fucking throat if I change it. Not that I really want to, it fits. Shamura is lowkey one of my favorites. I just like spiders. I'm also deeply afraid of them and cry if I see them irl. I also think they're bisexual in the exact opposite way as Leshy, in that they are a calm, mildly tired wine aunt of the family, mixed with the senile grandparent that snores loudly then stops and everyone pauses and looks at each other like 'Are... Are they fucking dead?'

Anyway, this is a long post, but I needed to get this out there before I started writing stuff for this fandom. Any opinions are welcome, but no bullying other people's thoughts, and be chill guys.

Fr. I'm like a skittish cat, you'll scare me away, and then no one gets fanfiction.

Casually getting side-tracked and writing scenes that don't even happen for another two fucking chapters.

Sometimes I just write a sentence or piece of dialogue that I'm like 'no, no, this will work better for a future scene' and instead of just cutting and pasting it somewhere for later, I write the whole scene!?!? And then put that aside for the future.

I mean, it'll be a nice surprise when I get to chapter 6 and already have a whole scene out of the way, but damn. It's delaying the current chapter, and making it hard to stay on task. Cool scenes though... Anyway, the moral of the story, Chapter #5 of Cult of the Lamb Redemption is almost done! So expect it on Ao3 and here soon, homies!

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #3

TW: Graphic depictions of injuries and wounds.

Patience - Lamb

Words hurt.

The Lamb knew this. They've seen the way words cut.

The way they stun people, leave them speechless, and then send the world crashing down on them in one swift, and lethal blow.

But they've never felt it themselves until now.

They never wanted things to turn out like this. They never asked for this... They just wanted to live. To be happy. To be free.

But now?

They have the weight of everything they've built on their shoulders. They want to keep their cult safe. Their followers, and friends- dare they say, family.

They want to keep them happy, and well.

So when The One Who- Narinder... When he demanded they...

After everything they've been through, with the scar on their neck proof of their first execution, he demanded that they go through it again? And Lamb so foolishly...

Perhaps they were naive from the start to have trusted him. To have thought that in comparison to the other gods of the land that had ordered the genocide of his kind... He was... Better.

Naive to think that Narinder was different. A good god, locked away by the evil ones, and that they were some kind of shining lamb knight, meant to free him, and restore peace... It was such a childish idea.

Narinder had been no better than the Bishops. Just desperate for power, no matter how much blood was spilled to get it.

They had thought that maybe in the end, if they had spared him, he would...

They feel so stupid.

Standing outside of Narinder's shelter, back against the wall, and hand over their slammed-shut eyes, trying to stop the tears.

The former god of death would never change. He is still just so angry.

~~~

"Be patient, Lamb. He's spent so long festering in his rage, and it is going to take a long time for him to learn how to live a life without it." Ratau pat their shoulder after a long game of knucklebones that they ultimately lost.

They have spent more than half of it complaining about the feline ex-god and the hell he had given them over simply eating.

"I'm trying, but it's me! He hates me! He's never going to understand why I did what I did or that I... That I actually do care about..." Him.

That they care about him.

He had been their savior. Giving them a second chance, and a third, and fourth, and fifth. Every time they died during a crusade, he was there. To greet them, and bring them back.

Sometimes they would talk. Narinder would listen to them, give advice, laugh at their jokes...

They thought he cared... They had certainly cared. They cared so, so much.

The One Who Waits was one of the only beings who truly understood what they were going through. He had been kind to them...

~~~

It was all a facade though. They see that now. Or, hell, perhaps they had just been delusional. Perhaps it was always just a one-sided illusion, them thinking the world of someone who truly hadn't cared at all.

Perhaps they shouldn't have spared him.

Saved them both the agony they're in now...

"I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how desperately you try to prove yourself to me, I have nothing left in my heart but resentment, and anger when I see you. You, from this moment on, will be nothing but the bane of my fucking immortal existence."

Narinder's words repeat in their head like a mantra.

Hate. He hates them.

~~~

"Empathize with him." Noon remarked, turning the page of his lavender leather-covered book that Lamb had found in Silk Cradle for them.

"What?" Their head jolted to him, staring like the white rabbit had grown a second head.

"Empathize, Lamb. I know he's being difficult, Theyra and Una were talking earlier about how you snapped at him through the door, but he's... Adjusting. Just try thinking about things from his point of view. He's lost everything, and now you have it. I can't imagine that would be easy for anyone, no matter what kind of person they are, good or evil." He looks up at them, and they turn their gaze to the ground, mulling over the words.

"I can do that easily enough... How do I get him to see things my way though? How do I get him to..."

Forgive me...

"Patience. I know it's not your strong suit, but I have faith in you. I'd be a pretty shitty follower if I didn't."

~~~

Empathize. Just. Empathize.

He's angry. So be patient. He's in pain, and from what they can tell from his physical wounds, a lot of it, so emotionally? They can only guess.

Not to mention he still hasn't eaten in a while, so he's probably hangry too.

They take deep, steadying breaths, and let a cool breeze dry their eyes as they do. They still wipe their face as they walk back inside, and see Narinder sunken in on himself in the bed.

He looks so... Small like this. His former white and red robes were abandoned near the bottom of the bed on the floor. Dirty and unpleasant smelling, he had probably thrown them off when he first went to bed.

His wounds aren't bleeding. They can only guess that they had partially healed when he had been spared, and they had indoctrinated them, hence why they weren't obvious when he first arrived.

Then again, they were still too hazy and flooded with adrenaline and mixed emotions to even want to look at Narinder when they were showing him to his shelter.

A part of them wants to leave this whole ordeal for tomorrow after all the feline had dealt with it for this long...

But with how gruesome the injuries look, even with the way he's protectively hunched over trying to hide them, Lamb knows they have to treat them today. No matter how painfully Narinder's words had lashed him.

They're sure the cat has much harsher ones in store for the future, so they need to start growing thick skin now. Those ones had just...

"I have nothing left in my heart but resentment..."

Taken them by surprise.

Narinder is staring down at his wrists, and though his ears flick towards their footsteps, they don't look at them.

"That food was awful." He growls instead, but his voice has lost its venom.

And from the way his head falls back as Lamb sits, and moves to take his arm, it's apparent that the fight is gone from him for now. Now he just looks tired, and bitter.

As if the toxin on his tongue from earlier left a bad taste in even his own mouth.

Or perhaps he was just coming to terms with this whole situation. Whatever the case, they don't feel like speculating what's going on in their head right now. They just want to throw the bandages on and call it a day.

"I figured you didn't care for it. I'll see about finding something else for you once this is taken care of." They reply numbly.

They cradle his arm in their hand, looking over the damage. They'll start with his arms, and then worry about asking to fix up his chest and neck. They doubt he'll let them anywhere near his throat though.

"Something with less flavor. I haven't eaten in a long time, never needed to, and now everything tastes insultingly overwhelming." He adds as they grab a dry rag and lean down to dip it into the water.

"Well, I won't add any seasoning, just cook it, and we'll see if that'll help..." They dab the cloth on the worst of the wounds, his wrist.

They're slow and careful in their movements, rubbing away the dryer blood around the scabbed wound, trying not to agitate it.

But when they see traces of dirt within the scabs and deeper parts of the injury...

"This might hurt a bit, just hold still, okay?" They carefully soak the rag, wring out some of the water in the injury, trying to flush out the dirt first.

Anything that doesn't get out, they cringe as they have to dig deeper with the rag to clear it. They can feel Narinder's arm shaking in their hold, and try to tune out the small hisses as they work.

"What food do you prefer? Or well, what kind did you like before you were chained up?" They try to continue the conversation to distract him.

After a moment of silence, they're not sure that he's going to answer...

"Fish. I don't mind most meat, but fish was always my first choice." He sighs, right as they pull away, finished with his wrist.

They move up his arm, following the pattern left there by the chains. Their arms flinch and jerk every so often as they do. Still, as careful as they are, some of the harder-to-clean, deeper areas start bleeding again.

"I should have guessed, you are a cat, god or not. Many cat followers prefer meat, and love it when I return from a fishing trip with enough fish for a whole feast." That was the wrong thing to say.

"Do not compare me to one of your peasant followers." They feel that correcting him and reminding him that technically he is a follower now would just be petty.

...

"Technically-"

"Don't." As if sensing it from a mile away, the former death god shuts it down, and Lamb can't help but crack a smile.

They continue to wash, now having to go back every so often to wipe away the fresh blood as well.

"I'm almost done with your lower arm, can I move closer for your upper arm?" They're already slowly shuffling forward, but pause to await his approval.

Looking up at him, they notice he's closed his eyes, his head resting back against the wall behind him. They make a mental note to get him a proper headboard.

Maybe something wooden, with a nice carving on it.

His brows are still furrowed, and even though he looks far more relaxed than earlier, there is still anger... Like it's embedded itself in his face deeper than his wounds.

"Narinder?" Their voice is a whisper, and he peeks open his left eye, humming a soft acknowledgment.

"Can I move closer?" They repeat, suddenly frozen by his gaze.

As if he was still towering over them.

"Do what you must, just hurry up already. I'm still hungry." He closes his eyes again, and the lamb quickly shuffles closer and sets back to work.

The rest of the next fifteen or so minutes is spent in silence. Lamb finishes with their left arm and moves to grab one of the jars of salve.

"What is that?" Narinder perks up, ears and eyes darting to the sound of them unscrewing the jar.

"This? Just some medicinal salve, made from camellias and some other herbs that Miki says help stop any infection and speed up the healing process." It's a smooth, transparent green salve with flecks of red.

"Will it hurt?" His ears flatten as he leans forward, sniffing the air.

The lamb breathes in the scent as well, it smells like camellias and mint. Not unpleasant, but something about the mint part gives them the distinct feeling that it will either feel cooling and nice or sting like a bitch.

"I'm not sure... Maybe? I do know that infection will hurt a lot worse so, we're using it." If they were careful before, they're holding fragile glass now as they rub the salve on Narinder's wrist.

They relax to hear the relieved sigh he lets out and feel the way he slumps in their hold.

"Doesn't hurt?" They chuckle as they look up and see him with the smallest of smiles on his face.

It is hardly noticeable if it weren't for the fact that Lamb has spent far too much time staring at that face to miss it.

"No. It's fine..." In grumpy death cat language that translates to 'it's delightful'.

Or at least that's how they choose to hear it. They use it as an encouragement to be a bit firmer, making sure to get the salve in every part of the wounds. It doesn't take half as long to apply as it did to clean, and in no time, they're wrapping the arm with a large roll of bandages.

The next arm goes just as smoothly, and both are wrapped fully by the time Lamb decides to take a break.

"Right, well, I'll go grab you some food so you can eat, and freshwater before we move onto your chest?" They hesitate, looking at Narinder expectantly, waiting for the cat to lash out again.

"Just hurry up..." He mumbles, not even opening his eyes when they stand to leave.

It's so dim in the shelter, they nearly forgot that it is still late noon, bleeding into early evening. They flinch when they step out, the water basin in their arms, and they take a moment to let their eyes adjust before walking toward the kitchen.

It's a sunny spring day, with a cool breeze that helps them finally ease the tension in their shoulders they didn't even realize was there. The flowers growing along the pathway sway in the breeze, and they take a moment to watch them. Simple wildflowers.

Yellow, red, blue, pink, white...

They remember counting them on their way to Narinders shelter hours ago before all this started. They had been so afraid when they heard him coughing and barged in to see the state he was in...

They had frozen.

For the past few years as a leader, they've done nothing but make quick decisions in times of crisis, and plan for the worse. Yet right then, they froze.

They had to stop and do what they do best at this point, and dissociate. Run to get him water, pull away when he started to run short on air, and then-

"Please..." He looks at them, eyes watering to the point of tears, and a plea so desperately leaving his throat...

They had never seen him like that before, and Lamb knew that he had to be completely out of it from the pain.

With a deep sigh, they continue away from the shelter, their hooves clicking against the cobblestone path as they walk.

"Lamb. How is he?" Miki is the first of their flock that they run into, as she's walking out of the Healing Bay, one of the closest buildings to Narinders Shelter- which they wisely placed on the opposite side of the camp, away from the other shelters.

It was near their own home, and when asked by Ratau why they placed their former master that just tried to kill them, so near... They simply said they didn't realize it.

To be honest, they aren't sure why they did it, just that they wanted him near them.

For safety purposes. To keep an eye on him. Yeah. That's why.

A small desert sand-colored fennec fox with pale green eyes stands in front of them now, head tilted in curiosity. They know for a fact that they're short-statured, with most of their flock being at least an inch or so taller than him, but Miki?

She's a few inches smaller, but she packs a punch and is one hell of a medic.

"Oh! He's better than he was, I finished with his arms, I think I wrapped them pretty well, not too tight like you showed me. I'm not sure how to go about wrapping his chest and stuff though..." They continue walking, and Miki joins them.

They pass more buildings, the lumber yard, the stone mine, and the refinery. A few followers milled about, too busy chopping logs and breaking down larger stones to notice their leader passing by.

"I see. I can come and instruct you if you think he's amendable to me being in his shelter. If not, I'm sure I can find a willing volunteer to show you how." She folds her arms behind her, keeping her gaze straight ahead as her eyes glaze over in thought.

"Finding a volunteer and giving me a tutorial will be easier, I think. He's calmed down since earlier, but introducing a stranger might send him over the edge again." They chuckle nervously, thankful that Miki doesn't mention it.

"Of course. I'll ask around, I'll meet you back at the Healing Bay when you're ready." And she's rushing off, leaving Lamb standing there blinking at her quick departure.

They chose to shrug it off for now given how helpful she's been lately. They do duly note that they should maybe start commanding a bit more respect from some of the flock that don't fully seem to comprehend them as their leader.

By the time they make it to the kitchen, they're on autopilot. Dumping the dirty water into the empty sink and filling it up with fresh, clean water from the tap. Quickly they cook a simple fish bowl with no seasoning.

It takes a moment for them to balance the basin between their arm and side, with the food in their other arm before they start walking back to the Healing Bay.

When they get to the Bay they set the bowls aside and try hard to focus on everything that Miki tells them...

Still, nagging thoughts about Narinder continue to plague their mind. They've been thinking a lot about how he feels about everything.

Empathizing. Like Noon suggested.

Being patient. Like Ratau said.

But what about them? There's a whirlwind going on in their head that they don't think even the power of the Red Crown can slow down or stop.

They're angry at him. They know they are. During the fight, a part of them wanted so badly to just end him, and erase him from existence forever. Erase him from their mind. Their heart. Everything. As if he had never even existed in the first place.

But they knew they couldn't. Even if he helped them shove a dagger into his heart, they would tear their fleece to stop the bleeding and save him.

Weakness. A horrible crippling weakness it is. This swirling longing in their chest makes them sick to their stomach, and weak in the knees.

They're angry at themselves. For worrying about him so much. For seeing his wounds and wanting to cry, and go back in time and just fucking kneel, so that he could have kept his godhood and never have to suffer like he is now.

They're angry that they still care so much. They're angry that he cared so little. They're angry that he hates them so much, but they can't seem to hate him in return.

They want to hate him. But all they feel when they look at him is worry, concern, and this terrible lump in their throat that they can't seem to choke down without crying.

They want to hit him and yell at him, and kick him out of camp into Darkwood or Anura so they never have to see him again.

They also want to hug him, apologize, and continue to treat his wounds with all the care and patience they can muster, and spend every day talking to him like they used to do every time they died.

But they can never have what they want.

"Do you think you can do it by yourself?" Miki asks, looking back at them, blissfully unaware of her leader's internal struggle.

"Yeah. I think I can handle it. Thanks, Miki for showing me- and Jovi, for being such a great patient!" They plaster on a smile, bandstand from the chair they'd been sitting in while watching the Fennec fox work.

The grey stag just smiles and gives a thumbs up as they start to unravel himself from the temporary bandages Miki had tangled him in.

They take a moment longer of standing there, looking around the clean, well-organized entrance area of the Healing Bay, multiple beds in the background with curtain dividers, and cabinets of medicine, mostly camellia-based.

Though Miki likes to use other herbs, claiming they're just as medicinally valuable. Lamb doesn't argue, because, so long as they don't make anyone worse, what's the harm in letting her have control over this aspect of the camp?

They wave goodbye to the two, grabbing the still-warm food and water and retracing their steps back to Narinder's shelter.

There aren't a lot of people who could understand the position they're in or the things they feel right now, not even Ratau. But keeping it all inside...

Patience.

Just be patient. Maybe Narinder will be more amendable to talk about everything that's happened when they finally get him some food?

With a deep sigh, they find themselves pushing back the curtains to the ex-god's home with a slightly less foggy head. Hopefully, Narinder is still tired enough to accept their help less aggressively than usual.

"Didn't I say to hurry up? What did you get sidetracked cleaning up your follower's shit while I'm in here crippled and starving?" ...

 Well, at least he's feeling better enough to be at his usual level of anger again...

"For your information, I was talking with Miki about how to wrap your chest best, because in case you haven't noticed I've never had to do this before. The Red Crown always takes care of my injuries, and Miki fixes up anyone in the flock who gets hurt." They explain, and Narinder just raises a brow as they move to set the water down and place the food in his lap.

"Am I supposed to know who the hell 'Miki' is?" He sighs and they return to their earlier spot next to him with a small laugh.

"No, I guess not. Then again, you probably won't know who anyone in the flock is, given that you haven't met them. Maybe when you're better I'll dedicate a proper sermon to introducing you!" They don't mean that, knowing full well that they'd have better luck dragging him into a river, but they can't resist the urge to tease.

And the cringe that distorts his face is very much worth it.

"I'd sooner drown myself in a lake." Damn. They were nearly spot on.

It makes them burst into laughter, leaning back as they realize just how horribly well they predicted the cat's response.

"Then I guess I'll leave introductions up to you. So, do your arms feel better enough to eat? Or do you need help with that too?" They notice him trying to lift his arms as they speak, but they are shaking still, and his face contorts in pain with every jerky, forceful movement he tries to get out of them.

In the end, he gives a defeated sigh, turning his frustrated glare to them.

"I'll take that as a yes. I just grilled the fish, with no seasoning or anything, so it should be pretty bland. Here." They lift a piece to him, far enough for him to lean forward and take it on his terms.

He does so rather aggressively, snapping forwards and snatching it out of their hand, making them jump back a bit in surprise as they growl while eating.

"Ooookay..." They chuckle, trying to ease the sudden spike of adrenaline now setting his nerves alight.

They let him eat and are relieved to see he doesn't choke this time, though he still sticks his tongue out in mock disgust.

"It's still powerful, but better than before." He comments before taking the next bit they offer.

They repeat the motion until the bowl is empty, and they set it aside, wiping their hands with one of the rags they haven't used. Thankful now that they had brought extra. Probably too many, but better safe than sorry.

"So, I'm thinking I'll have you sit on the side of the bed so I can get your back and chest, sound good? And how are your legs? Were they chained too?" They ask, moving some of the supplies off the bed, and onto the side table, which was starting to get cluttered.

They'll clean it later.

"Just my ankles." He shifts on the bed, already looking to be in a much better mood.

So they start there, with the smallest, most hesitant nod of approval from Narinder they move to the bottom of the bed. Lifting the blanket just past his ankles, they see that yes, much like his wrist there are similar embedded chain link-shaped wounds.

It takes less time to clean, rub salve, and wrap them than it did with his arms now that they've gotten the hang of it. Narinder seems to have gotten used to it too, hissing half as much with each dab of the cloth over the blunt lacerations.

"Can you-"

"No. Just help me." He snaps, clearly having his fair share of Lamb's questions for today.

So they just continue on in silence, wrapping their arm around his already-wrapped shoulders, and pulling him forward, using their other arm to move his legs over the side of the bed, toward the window.

They make mental note of how his fur sticks up wildly from where he is lying, and his stomach drops to see the sheets below him damp with splatters of blood, and the wall he had been leaning against for the last few hours looking no better. Some of the blood is already dried on the wall, but fresher drips are bleeding down.

It wasn't a lot, not enough to be worried about blood loss, but enough to let them know that the wounds have been bleeding for a while now- and looking at his back, the cans see why.

The chain marks along his shoulder blades were not just embedded but torn and layered as if from...

Struggling...

"Are you just going to stare? Or actually do something?" From his tone of voice, they know that he knows exactly what they are seeing.

Years of suffering. Struggling. Fighting against his binds.

There is water in their eyes as they follow the tangle of matted, bloody fur, much of it torn and un-growing around the worst of it... Around his waist, there is a violent mess of lacerations from the layers of chains that had been wrapped around there. Many of the deeper ones are still bleeding, some freshly opened and bloody again just from having moved him.

"Um, yeah, yeah, just give me a moment to... Assess..." Their voice shakes, and they have to turn away from the horrific sight to collect their thoughts.

They are no stranger to gore. To the gruesome tearing of flesh by a blade, or the brutal decapitation brought by a razor-sharp axe...

But chains are not sharp. They are blunt but strong. Unyielding. How tight must they have been to dig into flesh as easily as a dagger stabs into fruit? How hard does one have to pull against them for them to slice through skin and muscle like a knife through butter?

Looking back at the injuries now, it still renders them speechless.

How many bones did he break in his thrashing and pulling against them? How many days did he spend exhausted from the fight, his body healing itself over and over again each time? He's not a god anymore though, and simply laying here waiting for these injures to stitch themselves back together isn't going to work anymore.

"These... A lot of these are going to need stitches, Narinder, and I can't do that on my own... I can clean them, but I'm going to need to bring Miki in here to do the rest..." They try to be gentle about it, as they shake themselves out of their stunned silence.

"Stitches are going to hurt, aren't they?" He growls, but there is no real resistance in it, just a frustrated acceptance of the idea.

"Like a bitch, yeah. But it's probably the only way half of these will heal properly..." They force themselves back into motion, grabbing a fresh rag and repeating the actions that they've memorized at this point.

Clean the wounds, rub the salve, and wrap them. It's a little harder when they have to move around the bed and face Narinder directly though.

They're close. Way too close. 

They can feel him staring at their every move as they kneel in front of him, wiping along his stomach, which is just as bad as his back. They're more sparse on his chest, but just as deep, crisscrossing along his fur.

Looking up at him now, they can't help but have flashbacks to standing feet below him, gazing up at his sharp-toothed grin as it shines maliciously even through the darkness of his veil.

Hearing his thunderous chuckle as they tell him of their crusades, feel his breath as he leans down to speak to them at eye level...

Meeting his gaze now, there is no fondness, looking down at them like a favored pet...

Just... Well, contemplation. As if he's debating something to say. They wait, pausing their movements, and he grabs their hand. They flinch at the sudden contact and take a sharp intake of breath.

He's still shaking, they note, and his grip is weak. They could easily pull away if they wanted to.

Do they want to?

"I... It's different. Not being as tall. You don't fit in my hand anymore." He speaks softly, his brows furrowed.

Even as he says it, confusion clouds his eyes, as if wondering what the hell he was even thinking, saying such a thought out loud. They don't know how to respond to that.

But they understand what he means. They liked when the first response to them dying and arriving before Narinder, was for him to lower his and for them to hop into it. To raise them to his eye level.

They always liked being at eye level with the giant god, and Narinder at the time seemed to prefer it too. They remember once having been drawn so close to him that they made the bold move of ducking underneath his veil and seeing those blood-red eyes directly.

Any sane mortal would be terrified of the black-slitted pupils looking down at them like a predator debating how to massacre its prey. But them? They were enchanted by the genuine surprise in them. The way he chuckled and purred at their actions, a rumble of rolling thunder in the white void of the in-between sounded like music to their ears.

"Yeah... I didn't mind it, being at eye level with you made me feel... Equal. Instead of just some-" Pawn.

They choke on the sentence as they realize where it is going. This feels like an opening to talk more about the elephant that's made itself comfortable in the room for the last several hours.

Narinder's ears flatten as they seem to put together the missing word in his own mind, turning their head away in anger maybe, shame? They don't know.

They bit their lip, mulling over their next words carefully.

So, about the whole usurping thing? - Haha, oops, didn't want it to go like that, but also, it was kind of your fault? - Nope.

I know things are tense right now, but I still have deeply conflicting emotions toward you that might be mildly romantic, which isn't relevant, but hey! While we're on the topic, did you care about me at all? - Absolutely not.

How do they just... Start a fucking conversation like this?

"Narinder, I... We should talk but I don't know... I don't know where to start." They sound so ridiculous they have to laugh.

To ease their nerves, to try and bid time, and because something about this whole situation is downright hilarious. Why are they so nervous around him? Like he still has the power to crush them with his thumb alone...

They beat him. They won that fight and claimed the Red Crown for themselves. Yet here they are, still kneeling before him, their eyes begging for him to respond. To offer them some sort of clarity...

"What is there to talk about, Lamb? How you turned heretic and betrayed me? Or how about how in the end you couldn't at least finish the job? Yes, let's talk about that. That's what I'm most curious about. Why did you spare me, Lamb? Why keep me alive? Just to suffer this pathetic mortal body, and the humiliation of needing to rely on you of all people!" He bursts, turning back to them, teeth bared and a fresh growl leaving his throat.

They flinch and lean back to offer Narinder immediate space to cool down.

"No! No, I didn't- I didn't even know that this would happen to you when you became mortal! I just- I didn't want you to die! I didn't want to kill you!" They try to find the words.

Stumbling haplessly through their thoughts trying to find something they can tell him that will make him see that they're sincere.

"Why not!? You've had no problem striking down all others who stood against you!" He leans forward, chasing after them as they lean away, trying to escape the very conversation they sparked.

They know the answer to that, they know it and they would rather lie and declare that the only reason they spared him was to mock him. Hold their victory over his head for centuries, force him to be a mere follower, and worship the ground they walked on.

But how? Looking into his furious, and confused glare, red eyes burning into them like hot coals, what option is there but the truth? They have no doubt that he'll be able to see past all else.

"Because I..." They can't turn away from him. They want to, to look away, but it's like he's got them pinned, and it's then that they realize that he's...

He's still holding their hand. Close to his chest, the rag having dropped to the floor, and despite the anger still radiating off of him, he is gentle. His grip is soft, cradling their fingers, and the logical part of their brain reminds them that it's just because he's weak, and in pain.

But their heart is screaming so loud in their chest that they think they're going to go deaf. And their stomach has started swirling so violently that they think they're going to be sick.

"Because I care..." And the words fall from their lips in a whispered plea, begging him to just... Know what they mean.

About you. I care about you, so fucking much and I don't want to. I want to hate you, I want to hate you for who you are and what you did, why can't I hate you? You tried to kill me, all for power. You were as hateful, and power-hungry as your siblings, and you tricked me, and I fell for it, like a love-struck idiot I fell for it because I thought you cared too, and you didn't.

You didn't care at all.

"And I wanted you to care so much, but you didn't." They stand, there are tears in their eyes and they realize, that as much as they were pushing to have this conversation with him...

Maybe they are the one that isn't ready for it.

But Narinder still has their hand, and looking at him, he looks like he's been slapped across the face. His grip on their hand tightens for the slightest moment, and it feels like he's squeezing their heart, and it hurts.

It hurts so damn bad.

And then he let's go.

"I-... How, Lamb?... How am I supposed to respond to that? How do you want me to respond to emotions I didn't know were there?" He's asking.

Looking up at them in a pure mix of confusion and what was formerly anger, now overridden by doubt... He looks so different. Nothing like the God of Death that they have come to know...

Lamb prides themselves on being able to read others, and Narinder is an open book if they've ever seen one. They could look in his mind. Read his thoughts.

But no. They know what they'll see. They know that it will just drive the knife even deeper.

"I don't know, Narinder. I don't know." 

~~~

Sooo, I posted late on Ao3, so I'm posting early here to make up for it. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this angsty chapter, and I have a little question...

How slow-burn should I make this? I'm not great at super long slow-burns, and honestly, I didn't really plan to make this one. Still, there are a lot of complicated emotions between Narinder and Lamb, so... It might take a while for them to be on better terms, but I'm just worried about going too fast and making it less realistic or too cliche. I'm also super impatient though, and I want romance, fluff, and happy bullcrap because it's been a tough week, and writing all this angst is gonna push me over the edge homies. Listening to ppcocaine can only do so much to prevent me from crying, my guys.

What do any of you think? Should I speed it up more in this next chapter or continue with my current game plan of at least two, three, or maybe four more chapters before forgiveness and touchy-feely stuff?

Sooo, I know I haven't posted in a while, but I've been pretty busy with life and writing for other fic's that I'm working on, but worry not! The next chapter of Cult of the Lamb: Redemption will be out eventually, I have not abandoned it. I've just been sidetracked. Expect the chapter sometime this weekend hopefully!

Day 2 - Snowmen & Snow Angels with Kalim!

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prologue, Day 1

Prompt: When Kalim hears about Christmas from Lilia and Cater during a Pop Music Club meeting, he is so excited by the idea he goes to ask you more about the holiday- but he runs into your group of morons friends and they decide to recruit him to help distract you while the freshies enact their plan, now referred to as Operation 'Christmas Miracle!'

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and reader is called 'MC/Prefect.'

Included Characters: Kalim Al-Asim

Warnings: Mild Swearing.

AN: I should clarify that these are all alternate version stories, not some harem shit (not that anything's wrong with that). These are just different versions of the freshies finding one other person to help with their plan by distracting the MC aka you. Also, this series will continue until it's complete even if it bleeds into January so don't worry about it being discontinued or anything. I'm doing the full 12 days y'all.

~~~

"You... Want to go build snowmen?" You raise a brow at Kalim's cheerful words.

You just opened the door to Ramshackle, expecting one of your usual troublemakers to be the one frantically knocking at your door.

You even mentally bet money on it being Ace needing a place to crash to escape Riddle or something.

So you were decently surprised to see the radiant ray of sunshine that is the Scarabia Housewarden standing outside your door. Dressed in multiple thick maroon and gold layers of expensive-looking winter coats, thick white wool mittens, and a white and gold knit hat with a puff ball on top of it, he's also carrying a black and maroon backpack with the Scarabia dorm symbol on it.

All of this, you're sure, is due to Jamil being overly cautious so the young heir doesn't get sick. Then again, you've seen Jamil a few times too, and he was bundled up similarly. He told you they're not too used to snow in the Scalding Sands.

Who would've guessed?

"Yep! It'll be fun! We can make some at the main street so everybody will see them as they pass by!" Well, anything with Kalim is usually fun- mildly terrifying at times, but fun.

"Does Jamil know you're here?" It is the first question you need answered.

The last thing you want is a lecture from Jamil for playing in the snow with Kalim when he's meant to be doing something important.

"Of course! He wanted to come along, but I told him I just wanted it to be a 'me and you' thing, you know?" He says so sweetly, the words running through your heart like an arrow to your chest.

How could you possibly say no to him?

A cold wind runs past Kalim into the open doorway, and you shiver. You're still in your PJs, not really expecting to go out today since classes were canceled because of all the snow the night before.

"Uh, why don't you come inside Kalim? I've got to go get ready and it's freezing so I don't want to leave you waiting out here for me." You remark, beckoning him inside.

"So you'll come with me!? That's great! We can build the biggest snowman ever! And we can have a snowball fight, and-" He lists as he walks inside setting his bag down by the door.

"Slow down Kalim! Let's stick with snowmen for now and see how the day develops. Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna go get ready, and tell Grim where I'm going." You smile, motioning to the couch as you head up the stairs towards you and Grim's shared room.

"Okay! I'll be waiting!"

When you get upstairs, Grim is rubbing the sleep from his eyes, with a big yawn that pins his ears to his head. You struggle not to coo at him like he's a normal kitten.

"Who was at the door, henchhuman?" He asks as you shuffle through your closet.

"Kalim, he wants to go out and build snowmen, will you be fine on your own for a while?" You ask, and Grim suddenly jumps up.

"He's here already!?" The little outburst startles you and you turn away from the closet to look at him.

"You knew he was coming over?" You ask and Grim suddenly looks nervous.

"Uuuh- he mentioned coming over yesterday, didn't he? You were right there when he did!" Grim laughs nervously, and you narrow your eyes.

That definitely didn't happen. Grim has been acting odd the last two weeks, sneaking off, avoiding you, and blatantly lying.

You have half a mind to have cornered him days ago and demand answers, but the odd thing is- all your other friends are acting the same.

And so you're curious. They're planning something. Something they clearly don't want you to know about. Something that you will definitely get dragged into one way or another.

You want to confront them all before that happens, but you can never pin them all down in the same room- like rats they seem to scatter the second they see you approaching. So it's something big.

"Hmm. So will you be fine or not?" You repeat and turn back to the closet.

You'll let it go right now since Kalim is waiting downstairs, but you're interrogating him once you get home.

"Yeah! I'll be great! Just leave me a can of tuna, got it!" He smiles, and you duck away into the bathroom to change into your school uniform, and the winter coat Crewel had to scold Crowley into getting you.

"Got it, I'll leave it on the kitchen counter for you." You smile to yourself and head back downstairs.

"Okay, you ready to go, Kalim?" You ask as you get downstairs looking around the living area, where he's happily shuffling through his bag.

"Yep! And I remembered Jamil wanted me to give this to you!" He smiles as he holds up a folded piece of paper.

"Oh?" You tilt your head, curious, and grab the note, carefully unfolding it, you see Jamil's neat handwriting.

MC, Make sure he's back by nightfall- seriously. If I have to stop and take time away from frantically deep cleaning the dorm before winter break to come looking for him, I will overblot again.

That said, don't let him come back before nightfall either please. It's easier to clean when he's not here. Thank you.

Also - I packed you both hot tea in a thermos, and lunch.

I trust you to keep Kalim from doing anything stupid. Have fun.

- Jamil

"Ah. Okay. He hopes we have fun!" You decide to keep the rest to yourself, smiling as you tuck the note into your pocket.

"Aw, that's nice of him! Next time I'll be sure to bring him and we can all have fun!" Oh, you're certain he'll hate that, but that's a future problem for future you.

"Well, we'll see, I'm not to sure Jamil likes the cold that much." You nervously stutter out the white lie, leading the way to Ramshackles entrance.

"Really? I like how different it is from the heat of the Scalding Sands and Scarabia dorm! The snow is so pretty, and everything looks so different when it covers the campus!" He declares, even as he shivers from the cold air rushing in when you open the front door.

"It is, but I don't reckon it's the snow Jamil doesn't like, Kalim, just the cold." You laugh, subconsciously reaching out and fixing the others scarf, making sure it's tied properly.

"Hmm, yeah, I can see why he might not like it, we're not used to this kind of cold after all. But I'm kind of getting used to it! If I just keep spending time outside everyday, then eventually it won't bother me anymore!" He adjusts his mittens as he speaks, and you chuckle once more.

"Just don't stay out too long, or you'll get sick. So what are you planning on doing over winter break?" You ask and he lights up as you ask.

The two of you walk side by side towards the main street of NRC, you can see the condensation of your breath puffing up in the icy air as you talk, and he tells you all about his plans.

"Well, Jamil really wants me to focus on studying over break and getting the homework done- and since everything that happened last winter break, I'm really trying to do as he asks more to make things easier for him- but it's so hard! How can I sit still and study when I could be having fun with my family?" He sighs and you cringe a bit.

"It's good that you love your family so much and want to have fun with them, but it's important to study. You have to set a good example for your younger siblings right? And all the students in your dorm. If they see that you're not working hard in school, they won't either." You tell him, and he makes that funny face he makes.

When his face scrunches up in thought, brows furrowed, eyes cast down, a slight pout on his lips.

It's adorable.

"You're right, I know, it's just so hard to focus sometimes."

If you were in your world you would tell him he should get tested for ADHD, but you've learned that Twisted Wonderland really doesn't have much mental health awareness let alone care.

This school would have a lot less problems if it did.

"Well, I know a few tips and tricks. Maybe you can stop by again before winter break and I can give you some." You tell him and he smiles, bright as the sun.

"Really? I'd love that!" As to how the entirety of NRC doesn't thaw from his warm presence alone is a wonder.

"Yeah, really. You can bring Jamil too, that way I can show him a few tricks on how to help you if you need him to." A solid idea.

You knew a few people with ADHD and other problems that made it hard for them to focus back in your old world- hell, a large majority of the population had trouble with their attention span. So by proximity, you know a lot of things that may help him.

And a lot of things that will help Jamil help him.

"Oh... Does Jamil really have to be there? You could just write it down for him." Kalim suggests with a nervous smile that doesn't at all feel natural or right for him.

"Why don't you want him there? You just mentioned wanting him to come out for a snow day with us sometime." You tilt your head curiously, and Kalim rubs his arm sheepishly.

"Well, I do, it'd be nice if he could have fun with us, but I also like spending time with you when it's just the two of us? That's pretty selfish though, isn't it? I mean, you're so fun, and amazing, and supportive, it's not fair to want to hog all your attention, but..." He goes quiet his gaze falling to the ground, an uncertain, guilty look in his eyes that makes your heart clench painfully.

"Oh, Kalim, that's not selfish at all. It's okay to not want to hang out with a whole group of people all the time. We can hang out just the two of us whenever you want- well, so long as I'm not busy." You assure him with a gentle smile just as you two reach the main street.

"That would be amazing, MC! We should hang out tomorrow then! And the day after that! And this weekend! And-" Well... At least he's got that smile you love so much back.

"Okay, okay, why don't we just focus on today? And we can make arrangements for tomorrow later." You giggle, fucking giggle, the seven help you, you are down bad.

"Okay- so... How exactly do you make a snowman?" He asks, a thoughtful hand on his chin as he looks at the snowy area in front of you both.

You're not far from the statues of the seven, a perfect spot to build some snowmen where everyone who passes will see them.

"Well, we've got to start with the base- we just make a simple snowball, and then make it bigger and bigger until we roll it around on the ground, and it's big enough to support the middle and head of the snowman." You explain, ducking down and gathering some snow in your hands and making a snowball.

Kalim mimics your movement.

"So, Cater was telling me about this Christmas holiday you have in your world, and it made em wonder about what other holidays you have that Twisted Wonderland doesn't- if you don't mind me asking?"  Kalim asks as you both reach the point of rolling the snowballs on the ground.

"Oh, I don't mind at all... Well, you guys have a few holidays that are similar to the ones in my world- like Halloween, we have that in my world- you can stop there with that one, Kalim, we'll make that the body." You motion for him to stop rolling the snowball.

"Really? What do you usually dress up as? Scarabia dressed as kitsune- that has to be my favorite costume so far." He asks, a silly smile on his face that makes your chest flutter.

You two spend the next fifteen minutes talking about your Halloween experiences in your world, and what your costumes were, etc. Kalim tells you about his younger siblings about how one year, three of them decided to dress as ghosts with sheets over their heads, and he nor his parents could tell them apart as they were running around their home.

It's sweet, and you'd love to meet some of them one day. Though you're going to have to have a serious talk with Jamil about which of Kalim's siblings you need to avoid like the fucking plague.

"Okay, so these should all be good, now we have to stack 'em! Here, the middle one you rolled, can put it on the big one." You direct and he listens, focusing entirely on carefully lifting the large snowball and placing on top the even larger one.

Once he does, you place the smallest snowball on top.

"And there's the head. Now we decorate! I'm sure there's some sticks around here that we can use for the arms, and rocks for the eyes, mouth, and buttons." You look around on the ground- and Kalim follows your lead.

"Oh, here! Will this work for one arm?" He holds up a rather large stick that would make a decent arm you suppose.

"Yeah, we just gotta find another one like it. You look for that, and I'll find some stones." You tell him and go about looking around on the main street itself.

The stone path has some loose pebbles scattered about that you certain no one will miss, so you go about collecting the larger ones to act as your snowman's face and buttons.

You almost wish you'd stopped by Mr. S's for a carrot. But alas, you'll stick with a plain old rock for a nose.

Onc you fill your pockets with a handful of ideal rocks, you head back to the snowman to find Kalim looking really hard at two sticks on the ground.

"Didja' find another stick?" You ask, making your way next to him, breaking him out of his thoughts, he flashes you a bright smile.

"Yep! But it's way smaller- so I was thinking we should break the other one to make it smaller to right?" He says and you look at the sticks.

"Hm. Or we can use them as they are? It'd be kinda funny having a snowman with wonky arms." You chuckle at the mental image, and Kalim is quick to agree with you.

"You're right, it would! And it'll make people laugh on there way to class these last few days before break!" He picks up the sticks and hands you one, and you in turn hand him a handful of rocks.

"For his face- I'll let you do that bit, and I'll do the buttons."

It doesn't take long to give your snowman all his features, with Kalim dedicating extra time to it's large smile.

"Did you make snowmen a lot in your world?" He asks as you both back up to look at your work.

"Hm, a few times, yeah. I liked making snow angels too." You sigh wistfully, and turn to find Kalim's eyes on you.

Studying your face with a curious expression for a long moment before his eyes actually meet yours, and he looks almost startled out of... Whatever he was doing/thinking.

"What's a snow angel?" He asks, and you smile.

"I'll show you- over here." You waltz a little ways away from you two's snowman and turn to face Kalim head on.

"Step one, spread your arms out!" You show him, pointing your arms directly out on either side of you.

"Step two, fall!" You laugh as you let yourself fall back.

"Ah! MC!" Kalim shouts, startled by your actions, you even see him reach out to try and catch you.

When you hit the ground, the the soft thicker blanket of snow on the ground here softens the blow enough that there's not an ounce of pain. Just cold, creeping in through the cheap fabric of your coat.

But it's not that bad, so you press on.

"I'm fine, Kalim, it's part of the process! Now step three, swing your arms and legs back and forth like this!" You show him and he looks on with wide curious eyes.

Completely fascinated by whatever it is you're doing.

"And then, you get up real carefully- ah- can you help?" You sit up, and reach out to him, not wanting to put your hands down and ruin it.

"Of course!" He grabs both of your outstretched hands and yanks you up.

A tad to forcefully as you lift up off the ground you're pulled forward to much and tumble into him.

The first thing you note, is that he radiates warmth. The second thing you note, is that you're so close that every time you breath, your noses lightly brush together. His eyes are trained on yours wide with shock.

"Ah! I'm sorry- are you okay, MC!?" He asks, stepping back, you laugh, trying to will away the blush on your face.

"I'm fine, Kalim, uh- look! The final product! That's a snow angel." You turn away, making a ta-da motion towards your imprint on in the snow.

A perfect snow angel.

"Oh! It's like a lady with wings! A bird beastman?" He asks, his attention successfully redirected to the snow.

"Well, we don't exactly have those in my word, but we do have stories about human-like beings with wings, that act as guardians for human, watching over us and stuff. A lot of people believe their real, a lot don't. Either way, they're real fun to make." You explain, brushing the snow off the back of your coat and head as best as you can.

"It sure looked fun! I want to try! I just spread my arms like this, right?" He copy's your previous motions, a foot away from your snow angel.

"Yeah, just like that- make sure the snow is deep enough to catch your fall without hurting." You warn him and he nods looking back to assess and then letting himself fall just as you did.

He laughs as he plops into the snow, and swings his arms and legs back and forth.

You help him up just as he did you- though a bit more carefully, and admire his work.

"Perfect! A top tear snow angel. You're a professional, Kalim." You compliment with a wink, and he scratches the back of his head with a bright smile.

"Thanks! You're a great teacher! We should make more! Oh, and another snowman! So the one won't get lonely!" He suggests and you really do start to feel like a kid again as you both run around plopping into the snow, making snow angels.

And you end up making a few more snowmen- having to go out of your way and leave to find more sticks out by the Botanical Garden, stopping every so often when you find a good spot to make another snow angel.

You pass by several students during this who look at you both like you're crazy- but you really can't find it in your heart to care.

Not when Kalim is looking at you with that radiant smile, and his laughter is ringing in your ears like music.

"We should stop and warm up inside the garden for a bit Kalim, maybe have some of that tea and lunch Jamil packed us." You remark, flexing your fingers as they grow numb.

"Yeah, I am getting pretty hungry..." He trails off as you both enter the garden- the warmth immediately surrounding you both.

You shrug off your jacket and move to sit at one of the benches nearby, and Kalim follows, pulling his backpack off and in front of him to unzip and grab your lunches.

"Jamil made us some grilled sandwiches, is that okay?" He hands you a container with yours and you smile assuring.

"Of course it is."

You two enjoy a long moment of silence, enjoying your food, tea, and the warmth around you before Kalim speaks up again.

"You know, I've never wanted to hang out with people alone before." he says suddenly and you look up at him curiously.

"Ah- or well, what I mean, is that I never mind it when others join us. The more the merrier you know? I've never had the feeling of truly wanting to just... Hang out with one person and no one else before." He elaborates, and turns to meet your gaze.

"I don't really understand why, but it makes me really happy, doing fun stuff just with you, building snowmen, making snow angels, and even just eating lunch together... I'd like to do fun stuff like this with you all the time, if that's okay with you?" He asks, a little bashfully, head tilted down with a gentle, nervous smile.

"Kalim..." You murmur his name, thoughts suddenly very uncertain.

Yet your face flushes when he glances up at your voice, eyes meeting yours in a hopeful bloom of poinsettia red.

From the very day you met him- despite a lot of the initial poor circumstances, Kalim has always been one of the friendliest faces at NRC. Always happy to see you, always the first to go out of his way to try and help you, and always the first person you look for in the hallways when you need cheering up, or just to see his perfect, radiant smile.

"You, uh, might wanna be careful there, you might make me think you're asking me on a date." You chuckle nervously, rubbing at the back of your neck as you turn away.

Your face feels hot and you're really starting to miss the cold outside.

Kalim is silent for a long moment, such a long moment that it makes you glance back at him.

He's wearing a wide eyed expression, mouth slightly agape, as a flush paints his face. There is a slow creeping emotion in his eyes that you can't quite place, that leads them to dart around your face- looking for something maybe?

But then he meets your gaze directly and lets out a small gasp of realization.

End then he's tumbling forward out of his seat to grab at your upper arms.

"Ah! Kalim-"

"That exactly what I want!" He shouts and a wide smile back on his face, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"Huh?" Not the most eloquent response, but you're completely dumbfounded by the suddenness of... All of this.

If you weren't flushed before, you certainly are now, eyes wide, and jaw on the floor.

"I want to date you, MC! You're amazing, and smart, and kind, and fun, and-" He says with a brilliant smile, listing off the compliments like they're the most obvious things in the world.

"K-Kalim! Slow down, this is-" Everything you could have wanted. Wrapped up in a sparkling bow, with a gift tag that says 'to good to be true.'

"You don't mean that- I know we're good friends-" He's said it so many times, there's a permanent dent in your heart where the words are hammered in.

"Of course I mean it! MC, you're wonderful, and I wanna be able to hug you, and kiss you, and take you out on dates, and magic carpet rides so we can look at the stars together!" He interrupts you, eyes blazing with determination.

Oh geez, he's really serious about this, huh?

By the seven, of course Kalim would only realize he liked you when you pointed it out directly. He's just like that- not really understanding things unless you say them outright. He can't take a hint for the life of him.

"Please, MC? I promise I'll be the best boyfriend ever! And we'll go on the best dates! And we'll make snowmen and snow angels ever single winter!" He continues, grabbing your hands into his.

You note just how warm they are- or maybe yours are just still cold, but with how warm it is in the garden you doubt that.

It's just Kalim.

Warm, radiant, fun, and joyful Kalim.

You stare at your interlocked hands for a long, long moment as Kalim waits for your response, lost in a sea of emotion.

He likes you. He really, actually likes you.

"MC?" He squeezes you hands tighter, pulling your gaze back up to him.

"Kalim, you are so oblivious it's painful at times- of course I'll date you!" You smile, and watching as his whole face lights up like fireworks is a beautiful sight.

You laugh as he jumps forward, pulling you into a tight hug that you gladly return.

"Really? Thank you, MC! You won't regret it, I promise!" He vows and you pat his back gentle.

"I know I won't. Now we should get back to the snowmen, they probably look pretty silly just standing out there with no arms." You chuckle and Kalim pulls back.

"Yeah, you're probably right. You're always right." He sighs wistfully and you hold back an eyeroll, a smile permanently stuck to your face.

You both pack up pretty quickly, with Kalim pausing to look at you several times for long moments with a dopey smile on his face, before turning back to putting things back in his bag and putting his gloves and scarf back on.

When you two head back outside, the cold takes a moment to adjust to, and in the corner of your eye you can see Kalim try and pull his scarf tighter.

"Here, let me-" You move forward, grabbing his scarf, undoing it, and then tying it properly around his neck so it keeps him warm and stays in place.

It's a quiet moment, suspiciously so, and when you look back to the white haired boy his scarlet eyes are staring at you intensely.

You both are a lot closer then you thought, and you can see the fog of his breath mixing with yours.

"Kalim?" You ask, leaning further forward almost subconsciously, and his hands come to rest at your sides.

"Can I kiss you, MC? Please?" He asks, in a low whisper, and you give a gentle nod.

When your lips connect it's almost scalding how warm he is. But even more notably, he's so gentle.

Like he's nervous.

So you take the initiative. Pulling him closer by his scarf, and kissing him deeper, you feel him smile into the kiss, and you can't help but smile to as you pull back, but not far.

You noses still brushing together, Kalim giggles, his breath warm on your face.

"Can I do that again?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"Well, we're dating now, so you can do it whenever you want." You inform him and he jumps forward, holding you tightly as he kisses you, quick sweet pecks, over and over. Mostly on your lips, some on your cheeks and nose.

"K-Kalim!" You stutter between laughs and kisses.

"I can hug you too whenever I want, right? And come visit you, and get you gifts, and-" He starts listing and you have to put a cold hand over his mouth to pause him.

"Yes, yes, and only every once in awhile. I don't want Ramshackle overflowing with a sea of lavish gifts, Kalim. I don't need any gifts really. I just like being with you, that's enough for me." You tell him and he smiles, but it turns to a slight pout after a moment.

"Are you sure? You deserve nice things, and Jamil tells me you don't have many in Ramshackle." He asks, and you roll your eyes.

"I have what matters, Kalim. A roof over my head, clothes on my back, edible food, and okay roommates. Having an amazing boyfriend is the cherry on top. I'm not a fancy or extravagant person, Kalim, so please, don't go getting me anything extravagant." You tell him, and he sighs in defeat.

"Okay... I can get you a few things, right? Like flowers, and jewelry, and pretty clothes-"

"Flowers. You can get me flowers, and maybe some of those other things on special occasions only." You tell him firmly, even if there's still a smile on your face.

"Okay, I can do that! You have to tell me all your favorite flowers!" He asks (demands?) and you let out a gentle laugh, pulling away, grabbing his hand to hold as you both walk back to your snowmen.

You list some of your favorite flowers, up until you get back to the snowmen, and finish them off with their stick arms.

"There! They look great." You comment, backing up to admire the finished product.

Surrounded by snow angels all over the snowy ground, the snowmen actually look quite nice.

"Hm, we should get them some clothes- scarfs and hats, you know?" Kalim says from beside you.

"Hm, maybe we can swing by Sam's later and get some cheap ones, but I think we ought to call it a day, Grim will be wondering where I am by now." You check the time on your phone, seeing it's nearing early evening.

"H-huh? But we should go now so they don't get cold!" Kalim stumbles out, rushing to stand in front of you.

He has that panicked look in his eyes.

"... Kalim, they're made of snow." You say we an amused smirk and a raised brow.

"I- I know, but... Um, I wanna spend more time with you..." He comments, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes you've ever seen, and you let out an defeated huff.

How can you say no to that face?

"Alright. But we gotta be finished by sunset, got it?" You sigh, and Kalim quickly steps forward and places another loving peck on your lips.

"Alright! And I can walk you home after." And he kisses you again.

And then again.

"Kalim- we should get going." You chuckle, putting a finger on his lips to stop him from pecking your lips again.

"Oh! Right, okay. I just really like doing that." He chuckles bashfully, and you smile, this time kissing him on the cheek playfully.

"I can tell. Now let's get going." You pull him along and he follows dumbly, a goofy smile on his face the whole way.

This is going to be an amazing Christmas. You can just tell.

~~~

Vote for the next character below!

MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

On another note, have y'all been seeing the Maxley TikTok stuff?

I haven't even thought about the Goofy movies since I was young, but I recently rewatched them, and holy shit, bro. That tension is unreal, and I told myself I wasn't going to write a fic about it, but I'm thinking of writing a short one anyway because I have an idea for it that no one else seems to have done but... Idk.

What do you guys think? And while I'm asking, what are y'alls favorite headcanons about the ship? So that if I do write it I have some ideas and preferences in mind.