The 12 Days Of Twisted Wonderland - Prologue

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.

So, I've posted the first chapter of Wingmen, a Maxley fanfic. I have no idea when the next chapter will be done, but I'm working on it now, so when I have a date, I'll let y'all know. Feedback, comments, and questions are welcome.

Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Heartslabyul Edition, Octavinelle Edition

Prompt: While relaxing, and doing chores around the Ramshackle dorm for your weekend restoration of the barely standing building, your thoughts drift to love songs from your old world. You think of songs that remind you of your closest fellow NRC student and significant other, and end up singing one while you work.

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and they are referred to as 'MC/Prefect' in this one. And let's all just agree that MC is a great singer- cuz some of these songs have mad vocals that I would never dream of trying to sing myself with my incredibly average voice, and I imagine a lot of you are the same.

Included Characters: Savanaclaw Edition!

Warnings: None.

Request Rules & Information Here

~~~

Leona Kingscholar - "Talk Too Much" by COIN

- Ohohohoho- You are never living this down. Pt. 2

- He leans confidently against the door frame, a smug, lazy smirk on his face.

- He had swung by to nap at Ramshackle since Ruggie was hunting to get him to do schoolwork he didn't feel like doing and he knew the hyena beastman probably wouldn't look here.

- He just expected to take a nap and leave when Ruggie inevitably found him, but instead, he's getting a free concert from his favorite herbivore.

- He's not a huge music guy, so he honestly doesn't even know that the song isn't from Twisted Wonderland, but by someone from your world, nor does he really give a crap. He does, however, like the lyrics. You do talk to much, very often. He should take the songs advise. He will later.

- Enjoys your voice a lot, thinking the upbeat tone of the song suits you well. He thinks about how nice you would sound singing him to sleep or waking him up, please please please do this, it will make waking up so much easier if he can hear your voice when he does.

- When you catch him staring his smirk will grow and he'll chuckle lightly, teasing you only a bit before flopping on the couch of Ramshackle and motioning for you to continue with what you're doing.

"Damn, Herbivore, I didn't know you were such a songbird. Keep singing for me why don't you? I'm gonna take a nap here- if Ruggie shows up, tell 'em to scram. I want to stay for a while."

~~~

Ruggie Bucchi - "Somebody To You" by The Vamps ft. Demi Lovato

- He has so little free time in his day, so the moment he gets some, he chooses to visit you instead of double-checking for extra jobs. A massive deal for Ruggie that shows just how much you mean to him.

- That said, the choice to surprise visit you instead of grabbing a quick job is SO worth it when he hears your voice joyfully singing in the Ramshackle lounge, he decides to be a bit more sneaky, staying hidden behind the doorway so he won't interrupt the song your singing.

- It's a cheesy, pop-y love song that he's sure the Pop Music Club would love, and he bets you look adorable singing it. So much so that he can't help but peek around the corner to catch a look at you.

- When you catch sight of him instead he just gives you that signature chuckle of his, he's half tempted to tease you, but something about the way you look just doing chores, and singing to yourself feels so domestic...

- A guy might get some really great ideas about a happy future with you if you keep doing stuff like this all the time.

- Does like your voice a lot, and the choice of song, even if it's cheesy. He'll definitely ask you to start over- he'll even help with your chores if you do, well, if you throw in a free snack or two too- okay okay! How about just one snack and two songs-

"Shyehehe, you should sing more often, MC! You could make some good money off of a great voice like that!"

~~~

Jack Howl - "Better Place" by Rachel Platten

- Honestly, probably came over to help you with any heavy lifting, like furniture and stuff that you need to clean under or around, yada yada, and with his ears, he could hear you from outside.

- At first, he was going to knock to let you know he was there and not be rude or anything, but curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to quietly come inside and listen closer.

- He likes the song a lot, its soft and gentle lyrics are suffocatingly sweet and romantic, and he can't stop his tail from swaying behind him at the thought of you maybe singing it to him.

- A motion that catches your eye, and leads to you spotting him, startled by his presence he at least has the decency to look ashamed at having intruded on what's clearly a private moment.

- Will apologize, and compliment your voice, slightly embarrassed, but he'll smirk and ask if you'd keep singing while you two work- music always helps things get done faster after all (yeah, that's the reason).

- He's perhaps the most respectful of the three in that he'll only make like, one teasing comment if the mood is light enough for it. If his presence really does embarrass or make you uncomfortable, he won't tease at all though or push the subject, and he certainly won't tell anyone.

"Don't feel too embarrassed or anything, I thought you sounded really great. You should keep singing, I'd like to hear that song again..."

~~~

You guys really liked the first edition, so I figured I'd make another one, for Savanaclaw this time. I hope you enjoy, and the next 12 Days of Twisted Wonderland post will be out soon - Kalim won the pole for Snowmen & Snow Angels! See you guys then! ~ Roo

A Christmas Miracle

Let it be known, that I adored twisted wonderland a long while ago when I was just a dumb highschooler, and now as a college student I've gotten back into it, and I have never been (nor will i ever be) as lucky as I am right now.

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #5

Y'all, it's been a hot minute, and I've had this chapter done for MONTHS but I completely forgot about it. But uuuuh, happy spooky season, and have some more cotl content!

Also, don't ask me when the next chapters coming out- I've started it, but I'm so busy with college, I have no idea.

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.

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?

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption: Chapter #4 Preview

(Thoughts & opinions are welcome as always! Be nice, and enjoy.)

Realizations - Narinder

Narinder is not a poet. Not a writer, or a master of words.

So it is no surprise that Lamb's confession stunned him into silence.

"And I wanted you to care so much, but you didn't."

How is he supposed to care if he didn't fucking know? That's not fair of them to hold that against him. It's not fair for them to act like some heartbroken beau that he led on, and then tossed aside.

And then they had the audacity to leave before he could even find a way to respond.

He supposes a part of him is relieved they're not kneeling in front of him anymore while he's trying to sort through his thoughts.

They cared about him. What does that even mean? In the context of a god and a follower?

He thinks he knows exactly what Lamb means, but he'll be damned if he just assumes...

He tries to look back and pinpoint the moments that could give him some kind of hint, or insight into what they mean. Moments that he somehow missed the first time around.

But looking back, all of his memories feel hazy.

Like a terrible, violent fever dream of being so angry, in pain, waiting... Then the betrayal. Every time they try and think back on moments with the Lamb they are greeted by that moment.

When they refused to give the Red Crown back, and instead chose to raise their blade to him.

And every time he is reminded of that moment, he is filled with this cold, dead weight in his chest that he wants to call rage but he knows it's something different.

Hurt.

And hurt made him angry.

Why did it hurt so much? Because he let himself become fond of the wretched beast, he tells himself. He grew attached, even though he knew exactly how things were meant to end.

But they didn't end that way, did they? And now here he is. Alone.

Looking down at his bandages, he can still feel the cooling, refreshing sensation of the medical salve, easing the soreness of his wounds. It didn't help at all with the cramping in his muscles, or aching in his bones, causing the horrible shaking throughout his limbs.

But a feeling that trumps the cramping, or the cooling of the medicine are the traces... The traces of Lamb's touch linger all over his body. His arms, around his ankles, his back and torso. Everywhere he tries to focus his attention he feels them.

Such light, careful care, embedded all over him deeper than the injuries left by his chains.

It had made him forget how angry he was, and say things he shouldn't have... Feel things he shouldn't have.

~~~

Well, guys, this chapter is going to be a doozy. I've decided to attempt to speed things up a slight bit, so there are some cute moments that I hope y'all will enjoy.

The full chapter will be posted tomorrow at 4:00 pm on Ao3 and at 8:30 pm to 9:00 pm, here on Tumblr.

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!

Chapter #2 of my fanfiction, Cult of the Lamb: Redemption is out now on Ao3! Half an hour early too! It's Rooney_2108, and the full chapter will be out here on Tumblr tonight around 8:30ish pm. Narinder is still in pain and says some mean things. Lamb is also, no longer having a good time. Hope you all enjoy reading!