Twisted Wonderland Requests Rules & Information:

The 12 Days of Twisted Wonderland!

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prompt: While talking with your fellow freshies about their plans for winter break, you get a bit homesick and tell them about some of the Christmas traditions of your world. So, they decided to look for a way to make NRC feel a little more like home to you before they all leave for winter break! It just so happens that a particular student with a crush on the Prefect learns of this and decides to do something special for them themselves.

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

Included Characters: Voted for by you all, as I write!

Warnings: Will be labeled per fic

Read the Prompts and First Character Vote Below!

The Prompts!: 

Day 1; Ice Skating

Day 2; Snowmen & Snow Angels

Day 3; Sleigh Ride

Day 4; Christmas Tree

Day 5; Christmas Music/Caroling

Day 6; Hot Chocolate

Day 7; Ugly Christmas Sweaters

Day 8; Christmas Cookies

Day 9; Decorating

Day 10; Gingerbread House

Day 11; Mistletoe

Day 12; Secret Santa

~~~

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 #4

TW: Depiction of painkilling herbs being eaten- aka one loopy-as-hell cat.

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.

Things like that horrible fondness, that make him want to hear Lamb's laughter again. That makes him want to hold them in his hand, and hope that they're bold enough to duck under his veil again so he can see them better...

They were so close to him, and when they pulled away, he grabbed them. Not wanting to lose the feeling. The momentary peace that being so close to someone after so long brings. Even if that person is them. The one who...

Who makes him so hurt and so angry every time he thinks about them. About what they did, or what they're doing now. Being so kind, and so damn sincere that he wants to believe them, but he can't.

He can't trust them, he or be fond of them, and he certainly can't care about them, because they took everything from him. His power. His divinity. His dignity.

The only thing they left him with is his life, and he's still 50/50 on whether that's worse.

His torso has yet to be bandaged. The lamb left so quickly, that he can only assume they are going to get this 'Miki' person to do the stitches and finish wrapping him up.

He doubts it will be the last time he sees Lamb while he's... 'Unwell' like this. So he needs to figure out what to say when they do come face to face again.

Does he need to say something? Does he want to say something? Should he confront them about the unfairness of this situation? Or just let it go and pretend it never happened?

Narinder has already come to terms with the fact that he's stuck accepting their help and afterward being stuck as a mere follower- he'll be damned before he has to do any pathetic chores or menial tasks though.

Now, though... He's conflicted. He had planned to ignore Lamb after he was healed and didn't need their assistance anymore... But he wants answers. He wants to know what Lamb means when they say they care, and why their admission confuses him so much.

Makes him want to clarify things.

Tell them that he might not have... Cared in the same way he thinks they mean, but that he had... Preferred them to... Past vessels?

Fates, he feels like a fool.

If he wasn't in so much pain, he'd throw himself back onto the bed and bury his head under the pillows to try and block out all these thoughts and feelings.

"Um... Hello? Narinder, sir? May I come in?"

He's still leaning over the bed, glaring daggers at the empty ground where Lamb had been when the clear-toned voice interrupts his inner conflict.

"Come in." He sighs, and the fennec fox's head pops through the curtains, looking around before stepping inside.

The light from outside has turned a deep orange and pinkish tone. The sun is setting.

She's holding a small wooden box of well-organized metal tools and supplies, and she strides up to him, holding her silence, and focused gaze as kneels behind him, and examines his back.

Narinder wants to whirl around and hiss at her to back the fuck up, but he doesn't have the physical energy or pain tolerance to do so.

"I'm guessing you're Miki?" He sighs, giving up on doing anything but sitting down and just dealing with whatever he's handed.

"Yes. I take care of most medical-related issues around camp. The Lamb was right, these do need stitches, a lot. I imagine it's just as bad in the front. Are these scars anything to worry about?" She points at the two identical scars running just below his pecs, and he shakes his head.

"No. I've had those since before all this. Top surgery scars, I don't think any of you followers know what that is..." He sighs, and she shrugs.

"We have top surgery, it's just not as... Safe. As it could be. I'm working on making it safer. We can talk more about it later because I do have questions regarding where your surgery was done and by whom, but for now..." She pauses to meet his gaze and holds up the curved needle in her hand.

"This is going to take a while so settle in and lay down on your stomach. I can offer you some herbs to numb the pain, but they'll make you very tired, and kind of loopy. It's up to you if you want them though." She steps back to give him space to move.

Lamb clearly didn't tell her that he can't move very well without help, and he isn't about to admit it.

So he settles for trying to force his body to move through the pain.

His back is the worst of it, digging a deep growl out of his throat as he tries to twist himself around, onto the bed on his stomach, without moving the blanket off of him and giving the poor follower an eyeful.

"Do you need assistance? I understand that you can't move very well, but I wanted to see it for myself to analyze. Can you describe the kind of pain you are experiencing?" Ah, so she does know.

"It's a cramping. So bad that I can't stop shaking, or get my limbs to do what I want. My back and legs are the worst." He explains as she places a slightly too firm grasp on his shoulders and mildly manhandles him to lay on his back.

Giving her a full view of his injuries.

"Hmm. I have dealt with a few similar cases in people who haven't moved for long periods, usually only a few months, but years... Well, I'll tell you now, it's not an easy fix. Do you want the herbs? They won't take effect immediately, but it will make everything less painful, stitches and cramping. They'll also probably put you to sleep for the rest of the night." She talks slightly faster and far more monotone than he expected for someone who follows Lamb.

Something about the lack of emotion in her voice creates a professional air in the whole shelter. An air that makes him feel far safer than he's felt in his entire time being here.

"I'll take them. How do I get rid of the cramping?" He asks as he hears her shuffling around the supplies.

She moves around and he turns his head to look at her as she holds out a small leaf-bound bundle, he swallows it quickly as the bitter taste nearly makes him gag.

"I don't want you to push yourself too much because of your outward injuries, but the only real way to help regain your strength and control over your limbs is to exercise and stretch them. Water therapy would be best, but submerging your stitches isn't an option." She explains, her hands poking and prodding at his back, pulling painfully at some of the deeper wounds.

Far less gentle than Lamb had been.

"Watch it." He hisses, in pain, and then lets his curiosity win. "And what's water therapy?"

"Swimming, essentially. A gentler alternative to normal physical therapy. Either way, you'll need someone to oversee it, myself ideally, but I can train the Lamb to aid you instead if you are not comfortable with my presence." He only hums in response.

His body doesn't hurt as much, and as she said, he's becoming drowsy. His eyelids are heavy, and the shaking in his arms is subsided. He hardly even feels the sharp piercing as it follows a horizontal path around his waist.

He's half asleep when it stops and moves up around his left shoulder blade. Then right. Then the same monotone voice asks him to turn over so she can 'evaluate the damage'.

He would think that the newfound lack of agony coursing through his bones would make it much easier. Instead, the fatigue pulls him down and makes his whole body turn to dead weight. She's talking again, and he peeks his eyes open but quickly decides that whatever it is, isn't as important as sleep.

So he closes them again.

~~~

"You've done well vessel. Soon enough, my chains will be broken, thanks to your ruthless efficiency." He's staring at them, as they sit in his hand, only a few inches from his face.

They're awfully silent this visit. Usually, they break into a ramble about the crusade they had just died during, or the way things around the cult are going. And Narinder would listen. Their voice is soothing. Easing the burning tension in his body the moment they arrive, and look up at him with that radiant smile, so overjoyed to see him again.

~~~

He opens his eyes when there are small hands- the fennec fox's hands trying to lift him to roll him over. He can't recall her name... Miku? Mimi? Something like that. She curses under her breath.

He tries to aid her in her weak attempts, even though his mind is hazy. But he must have done something right because now he's on his back, and the piercing is on his stomach now so he closes his eyes again.

 ~~~

He likes this one. This vessel. A small, innocent-looking Lamb, with all the fire and maliciousness of a thousand suns, scorching all who stand against them. Yet when they stand before him, they are soft-spoken. They laugh a lot, usually at something he does or says.

He doesn't know what's so funny, but the sound is like music, so he doesn't question it.

Others, like Ratau, were weak, but not just that, they were so... Boring. They didn't speak much, didn't respond well, and only ever bowed to him before being sent back to the overworld. 

~~~

When he opens his eyes again it's to the sound of Lamb's voice.

"Narinder, I'm just gonna help hold you up while Miki wraps the bandage around you- oof! Okay- this, uh, this works. I guess." Their laughter is nervous, hesitant, and not the carefree one he would much rather grace his ears.

He is leaning forward, his head resting against them. They don't smell like blood, or death like he expects now that they are the God of Death. No, they smell like they always have. Like wildflowers, and fresh air after rain.

They're warm, and he bunts his head against the side of their face, before burying it into their neck, shutting his eyes again.

~~~

"What troubles you, my vessel? You have not spoken, by now Aym and Baal are ready to kick you out themselves." He chuckles, as he looks down at the mentioned twins, who side-eye glance at each other and shrug in agreement to the statement.

His dear Lamb looks up with startled eyes, and he can't help but chuckle. They must not have realized how obvious they were being...

"Nothing! Really it's nothing, well, not nothing, nothing, just... I want to tell you something, but it's hard to... Word. And I don't think that right now is the best time..." They ramble now.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything...

~~~

He opens his eyes this time because Lamb laughs again. A good laugh at something the small fox said. Soft, but sincere, and he can feel it reverberate through their chest. He wraps his arms up and around them to pull him closer and they become stiff as a board.

He doesn't care though, as his hands rest at their waist, and a deep rumbling is sounding from somewhere... Is it coming from him? Is he purring? He hasn't purred in a long time, and it's hard to recognize the sound.

He shoves his face into his Lamb's soft wool as he closes his eyes for what's hopefully the final time...

~~~

"Silence, Lamb, you need not speak of it if you wish not to. I only wish to know, so that I might ease the worries off of your face. I much prefer your smile." He raises his other hand to lift his Lamb's chin carefully with the tip of his clawed pointer finger.

They smile as they meet his eyes, but it is still nervous, and unsure. They glance away from him, their eyes darting around the afterlife, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I... Appreciate that, but I think I'll save what's on my mind for later. How about after I've gotten you out of these chains? Deal?"  They now look a bit more energetic, as they jump up, and duck down, and before he has time to process it...

There they are. Underneath his veil, peering up into his blood-soaked eyes. Smiling, without a care in the world, as if what they've just done isn't enough to get them massacred by any other God in their right mind.

They lean against his nose, and he is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they smell like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. Such a refreshing... Lively scent. As if they aren't working for the God of Death, but rather frolicking fields with a God of Life.

They rest their arms on his snout and blink up at him, tilting their head ever so slightly in curiosity when he remains still in stunned silence.

They then laugh when he laughs, and he wants them to stay right there for as long as it might take for him to grow sick of their presence. But he's not sure when that might be. A century or two? Maybe three if they don't run out of things to talk about too quickly.

But alas. There are still Bishops to defeat, a cult to maintain, and chains to be broken.

Perhaps before he has them kneel to sacrifice themselves to him, he can ask them what it is they had planned on saying.

"Deal."

~~~

He wakes one final time when he's being carefully laid back onto the mattress and a soft voice is mumbling. His Lamb's voice.

Something about changing the bed sheets in the morning, and the current ones being bloodied.

"Lamb..." His voice is so quiet, it's a miracle he can even hear himself.

He has a tight hold on their fleece.

"Yes, Narinder?" Their voice is wobbly, and he tries to force his eyes open.

He wants to see them, but he's so tired.

"You planned to confess... After I was freed... How could I not see that you..." How could he not realize that they loved him?

Was he so oblivious? He could have read their mind at any time, but he didn't... He could have seen their feelings. He could have also seen their betrayal coming, but somehow, this is less important than their feelings.

"I... You're all loopy, Nari, go to sleep, and I'll bring you breakfast in the morning." They pry his hand off of their fleece, and he lets them, with a soft hum.

"Nari? I like that..." Nari. His siblings used to call him that when he was still very small, but stopped when he got older.

When he got the Red Crown.

"Hm. I'll call you it more often than if you promise not to try and kill me when you're less high." They stand up and pull one of the blankets up over him, and then they're walking away.

No. Stay.

Please stay.

His brain screams, but his mouth can't keep up, and the fog in his mind is so heavy and his limbs are so heavy and his heart is so heavy, and everything is just so damn heavy...

His heavy thoughts fill with thoughts of Lamb. His Lamb. Who smells like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. His Lamb. Who he was once so fond of, but now can't bring himself to feel such fondness without it reside beside pain. And anger. And distrust.

And they are in pain, angry, and distrustful too.

So how do either of them fix it?

~~~

When he wakes up he is alone, and his head is still hazy, and his body is in agony.

Stiff, and sore, his torso is immovable, a dull throbbing making him groan in pain. His arms and legs hurt just the same but aren't as bad as they were.

Maybe he's just too focused on his torso to care about the tremors as they start racking his arms again. Or, maybe it's the haunting realization of his own drug-induced actions last night that really keeps him frozen in his place, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know he could be so... Touchy. When tired. But the smell of them is still swirling around in his mind, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else he did.

He doesn't remember all of it, not clearly anyway, from having been in and out of consciousness. But he remembers the moment Lamb arrived. When they laughed. When he leaned forward onto them. When he shoved his head into the wool on their neck. When he started purring so deeply he could feel it vibrating his whole body...

The room is cleared of all medical supplies, and the nightstand is cleaned off.

He's not exactly sure what time it is, or how long he's been asleep, but he knows, from the light slowly brightening around the edges of the window and doorway curtains that it's close to morning.

And that Lamb promised to bring him breakfast. So he needs to get his thoughts in order quickly.

He still needs to confront Lamb about their sudden admission to him. Then about that day... That distinct memory replaying in his mind helped him connect the dots even in his herb-induced state.

Lamb had wanted to confess to him after they freed him, and he...

Guilt is still a foreign emotion to him. He used to feel it in small amounts when he was a child and would get into spats with Leshy, or Heket and say something he didn't mean.

The worst time was during a thunderstorm that he had gotten caught in on his way back to the temple. He doesn't remember where he was returning from or when the first strike of thunder sent him running out of his own damn skin, but he does remember hiding.

Hiding, terrified in the small hollow of an old tree trunk. The mud soaking around his feet, and the bottom of his robe. When Shamura found him he was so afraid he hadn't wanted to get out from under the trunk, and when his older sibling reached in to grab him, he'd just... Lashed out.

His claws hooked on Shamura's forearm damn good, and he knew he drew blood when they tried to pull away and his claws yanked out of the skin it was caught on.

He felt the wave of guilt hit him harder than the fear and strike as quickly as the lightning of the storm around him.

And no matter how many times he apologized, or how many times Shamura tried to assure him it was alright, he was haunted by the feeling.

The guilt. That made his heart sink like lead in water every time he saw the paper-thin scars on Shamura's arm.

But all those times happened long ago before he was even given the Red Crown. Since then, this degree of guilt has snuck up on him twice. Both because of Lamb.

When he had snapped at them the other and they rushed out of the room on the verge of tears, and then now.

Feeling this overwhelming guilt because of this horrible realization that the entire time he had been waiting for the day they would sacrifice their life to him...

They were waiting to tell him that they were in love with him.

He wonders how they felt in that moment. The second he asked them to kneel, did they feel the same sinking dread in their chest that he felt when they chose not to?

Did they feel the same horrible dread when they marched to their death earlier that year, standing before his kin as they prepared to kill the final lamb?

If so then it truly confirms the thought that's been plaguing him for the last hour.

He's no better than them. Hell, he might be worse. At least they didn't trick any of the lambs they were slaughtering into trusting them. Or become selectively blind when said lamb fell in love with them.

Speaking of the new God of Death...

The moment that they knock on his door and step through the curtain with a soft, sad smile, and a warm breakfast in their hands he realizes something that makes all of his other realizations that much more horrid...

He never would have asked them to kneel, if he had known they loved him.

Maybe I even would have...

"Morning, Nari. I brought another mixed meal, everything is bland and seasonless, but there's a bit more variety. I'm also going to get started on those upgrades for your shelter. Nothing perfect, but function for now." They sit on the bed next to him, and he's glad to find that he can sit up a little easier on his own, without as much pain as before.

At least in his arms. His torso is irritated and sore as shit. Lamb moves to grip his arm and help him, and he bites his own tongue to stop from purring at the touch.

The herbs clearly haven't worn off completely just yet...

Looking them in the eye there are a million things he wants to say but what comes out isn't exactly what he's expecting.

"I'm sorry."

A simple two words as Lamb sits beside him to help him eat, just like they've done the day before. They freeze in place, staring at him with widened eyes, and he stares back.

As stunned as he is, he's surprised to find that he doesn't regret the words.

He's not sure that his own anger has subsided. Hell, looking at them now, glancing at the Red Crown on their head that was once his... He can still feel the flickering flames of frustration, and the much stronger flame of humiliation and embarrassment.

But neither are as strong as they once were. The raging wildfire has died down, turning to something more... Tired.

He just wants all this pain to stop, and to be able to move freely again.

He wants to be free.

It's all he thinks he wants anymore. Before the desire for freedom lived closely beside his desperation for revenge.

To destroy the other Bishops. His family. Make them pay for locking him up in the first place.

At some point... Maybe after the thousand-year mark, or maybe two thousand years, freedom became his main priority.

Revenge became an... Added bonus.

And now? It's all he's been thinking about- thoughts of Lamb not counting.

Wanting so desperately for the pain to subside so that he can once again see the world outside of this shelter.

And all the anger still buried inside is just a footnote in comparison to that desire.

So when he looks into the Lamb's eyes and sees their confusion, he doesn't have it in him to take the words back or snap at them.

He can't forgive them, at least not now. Perhaps not ever. But he knows he's tired of being mad. Tired of lashing out every time they reach out to help, and then feeling guilty an instant later.

And he is Sorry.

Sorry that he didn't know. Sorry that he never gave them a chance to tell him. Sorry, that...

In the end, he really wasn't any better than his siblings. Maybe he still isn't. He's not sure anymore.

What he is sure of, is that even if he's still angry, they have a right to be angry too, and yet...

They're helping him anyway. Caring for his wounds, feeding him, helping him move, and upgrading his shelter so he doesn't have to leave if he doesn't want to, and can just spend the rest of his immortal life locked indoors...

And all he's doing is complaining, snapping at them, and making them cry.

Even his shitty siblings, if they were here, would agree that that's not fair.

"You're... Sorry?" They repeat, head tilting, unsure, and stiff as a board.

"Yeah." He wants to lean forward towards them again but resists, grabbing the blankets below him just to keep himself anchored in place.

"I'm still angry at you. So... So angry. I hate that you spared me. I hate how pathetic, weak, and humiliated I feel. I hate that you're the one that's made me feel this way... But I... I recognize that you're angry too and that what I did was not... I shouldn't have... Fuck, I don't know..." He sighs, lifting a hand to drag down his face, and pausing to think of his next words carefully.

At this point he's glaring down at his remaining hand as his claws dig into the blanket, refusing to look back up at Lamb.

"I don't know that I regret what I did, but I regret that I hurt you when I did it. I regret that I didn't know because if I did... I'm not sure things would have played out the way they did. But we can't change that now, so I'm sorry. Sorry, that I was, and that I have been, ignorant." He finishes his botched apology.

It's not elegant. Not exactly what he wants to say either, but it will have to do, because now his head hurts.

He just wants them to respond already, but glancing up, the deep frown and contemplating look on their face tells him their gonna need a minute.

A long. Long minute.

"You're wrong..." They breathe, the words a whisper in the silent room.

His eyes dart to theirs, but they carefully avoid his questioning gaze.

"Do you remember much of last night? When you were talking to me before I left?" They ask, setting the bowl on the bed beside them, and bringing their hands into their lap, twiddling their thumbs.

I remember I didn't want you to leave...

"I remembered the day you ducked under my veil. The action distracted me from the conversation, but I remembered it last night. That day... You were planning to tell me that you... Cared." He doesn't dare say the real word. Not out loud. "Weren't you?"

"I was. I had this silly idea that... That after you were freed, I would confess, and you would accept, and I would show you the camp and everything I've built for... For you. And that maybe we could... I don't know. It's stupid, thinking about it now." They stand up and move around the bed towards the window.

Still avoiding his eyes, as they follow their movements with far too much interest.

Lifting a hand, with a single finger he cracks open the curtain just slightly, letting the morning light peek inside, as they look out.

"But then... Everything happened... You were right when you called me weak. When you were defeated, and I had the choice to spare or kill you, I was weak. I couldn't bring myself to do it, because a part of me still hoped that if I spared you, you would..." They let out a shaky sigh, and finally turn to look at him.

A pleading look in their eyes, begging him to understand so they wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"Oh." A dim response. But what the hell else could he say?

"Yeah. Oh." They give a dry laugh, and move back, sitting on the edge of the bed, before sliding down onto the floor.

They rest their hands over their eyes.

"But you're wrong about me being angry at you. I'm angry at myself, and every time I look at you I'm just... Miserable. Sad that nothing happened the way I wanted it to, and now here we are. You're wounded and in pain, and I'm so conflicted and confused about this." They motion up to the Red Crown.

"I mean, I'm a god now. I never planned on that! I've been leading this cult with the expectation that you'd take over once I freed you, but instead, I'm going to be their leader for who knows how long! And I can't even get half of them to stop wanting to eat their own shit!" Their voice rises the more they rant, and he snorts at the last part.

"Yeah, well, followers aren't as smart as they used to be. Back when The Old Faith was at its best, Shamura had a strong school system in place, and Kallamar was an expert in medicine and hygiene, sharing his knowledge with his most devout so that they could spread the word of what is and isn't good for you. Such as eating shit." He comments, a small smile gracing his face.

"But that was... A long time ago. Since my imprisonment, the Bishop's wounds, and the genocide of the lambs, everything has deteriorated. Now those who remain are just trying to survive. No shepherd to guide them." Another realization, he notes as he speaks.

"You are the only god remaining now, Lamb. The only one that can create so much as a semblance of society, so that they no longer have to struggle. So that they can actually enjoy life before their bodies wither, and they have to surrender their souls to you. The new God of Death." He sits up and tosses his mildly aching legs over the side of the bed.

Moving as slow as he can for his torso's sake, and relying solely on what little arm strength he has, and a bit on gravity, he pushes himself down onto the floor. Next to Lamb. The blanket is dragged down with him.

"Well, that really makes me feel better." They grumble, looking at him and his tail involuntarily brushes against their arm, an attempt at comfort.

"I'm not trying to make you feel better-" Liar. "Just telling the truth."

"... I've been leading them long enough to know what I need to do, I just don't know how. Some of my more valued followers like Noon, and Miki are trying to help, but neither of them knows much about the divine aspect of it, like shepherding souls, maintaining the afterlife, etc..." They lift a hand up, grabbing the crown of their head and bringing it down in front of them to examine.

"I do." He blurts, not fully thinking about how much it sounds like an offer.

They too jump, head darting to look at him.

"You'll help me?" They ask, disbelief heavy in their voice.

"Maybe. If your cult doesn't fall apart before I can breathe without pain, then maybe- and that's a very strong maybe. I'll consider giving you some pointers on how to be a proper God of Death. A way to earn your forgiveness, since I doubt my words mean much to you." He subconsciously moves his tail again, brushing it along the side of their face.

When he sees it, he quickly grabs the offending part and pins it to the ground. He's grateful when Lamb chooses not to mention it, only glancing at the now pinned tail with a soft giggle.

A giggle that makes his fur stand on end in a fluttering feeling he can't even begin to identify.

Embarrassment. That's what he's going to call it. Embarrassment.

"They do mean something, Narinder... I know it took a lot for you to say them, so thank you, for apologizing..." Their smile drops, and they turn their gaze away.

"But?" He can feel it coming from a mile away.

"But I think it's going to take a lot more to fix things than an apology. I'm still not even confident that when you get better you won't just try to attack me and get the crown back then..." They're right to be paranoid about that.

He's thought about it. A lot.

Is still kind of thinking about it.

"Right. Well, I don't plan on doing that right now, we'll see about later though." He can't help but smirk at the small glare they send his way.

"I guess I can live with that. And for the record, I'm sorry too. Not for choosing not to die, but that you feel weak and humiliated because of me. But you should know, Narinder, that you are not pathetic. You're strong, and I beat you by a hair, and now, here you are, dealing with a pain that no normal mortal alive could tolerate... You're..." They pause, meeting his eyes for a long moment.

There's something there. Something akin to adoration- much like the kind they used to wear on their face when they looked up at him when he was a god.

It makes his fur stand on end again in embarrassment.

Embarrassment that's all it is.

He has to break eye contact, turning to look at the window, and flinching when light hits his eyes. The small opening Lamb made earlier still bleeding light into the room.

They notice his flinch.

"Oh, right, your eyes. Sorry." They stand up, quickly, moving a single step forward to close the curtain properly.

"It's fine." He hadn't even realized how close they'd been. It was just so natural. Being so close to them...

It felt strangely right.

Now though, with the distance between them, the spell is broken. Even they seem to realize it.

"Right well, I do have a lot to do today so... Why don't I switch your bedsheets, get you back in bed, get you fed, and then work on those shelter upgrades, hmm?" There is a newfound pep in their step.

And in a second they're bouncing across the room with an energy that does not match the conversation they've been having for the last half-an-hour.

A mask. One that they put on so easily it's almost frightening.

But he doesn't complain. He's gone through enough emotions to last him a week, and right now, he just wants to eat and go back to sleep.

Of course, Lamb isn't going to make it that easy.

"Sooo, about last night, was it the herbs that made you all cuddly or am I just that adorable?" They look back at him with a teasing smile that could light up the darkest of nights.

"Shut the fuck up-!!"

~~~

Fun fact: Miki is based on one of my favorite followers from my first-ever game, a game that my little cousin ended up deleting when I let him play on my Switch. That's the real betrayal here. I still haven't forgiven that 11-year-old punk.

I'm thinking about making an 'introduction to the featured and background OC's post.' What do y'all think?

Day 1 - Ice Skating with Vil!

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prologue, Day 2

Prompt: In the end Epel is the one who manages to convince a housewarden to help, specifically getting Vil to help distract the MC while he and the other freshies enact their plan, which is now being referred to as Operation 'Christmas Miracle!'

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and the reader is called 'MC/Prefect.' The reader also knows how to ice skate but hasn't in a while. (I am too scared to ever try ice skating, but for those of you who do Merry Christmas.)

Included Characters: Vil Schoenheit

Warnings: Mild Swearing.

Tags: @twistedcece

~~~

It's been weeks since you spoke with your fellow freshmen about the winter holidays in your world, and the cold has really come rushing in full force at NRC.

Snow blankets the ground, and students wear thick layers to class to keep warm.

You didn't really have any thick layers to bundle up in, but luckily Professor Crewel noticed this when you and Grim came into class a Prefect and Cat-shaped popsicle, ten minutes late. He then personally saw to yell at Crowley in his office for twenty whole minutes about letting you freeze to death.

So now you have a winter coat.

Big enough for Grim to hide in with you when heading to class. Maybe you can wrangle some gloves out of him to if you play your cards right.

But that's none of this is the point. The point is, it's cold enough to go ice skating on the pond outside the Alchemy Workshop.

Which Vil invited you to go do.

Vil.

Vil Schoenheit.

Invited you.

To go... Ice skating.

The famous model and actor, and the Housewarden of Pomefiore (though much less relevant than the FAMOUS MODEL AND ACTOR part) invited YOU... To go ice skating with him.

Okay, look, it's not that you find it hard to believe (you do actually find it very hard to believe), it's just that... Vil is... Vil.

And you're you. In his eyes, a potato. Not that you mind. Most people are potatoes compared to Vil Scheonheit, but also, potatoes aren't that bad of a comparison.

One of the most diverse ingredients and stand-alone foods in this world and yours. Easily able to fit into any dish or meal as a main ingredient or a side.

You'd say since coming to NRC, you fit that description kind of well.

The point is, you and Vil are friends, but like, you've never gone and done something alone with him like this. You'd asked if other Pomefiore students might be there (namely Rook or Epel), but he'd said it'd just be you two.

Alone. Without one of the idiots (read: friends) in your life (take your pick, there are many), contributing to, or leading the conversation.

You're totally not overthinking this or anything.

You try way too hard to wear something nicer than usual- but as mentioned before, you don't have a ton of warm clothes. And they'll be covered by your coat anyway so why the hell does it matter?

Because it's Vil. That's why it matters. You want to look nice.

"You know, I still think the first shirt was the nicest." Grim mutters between bites of tuna.

Which you don't appreciate considering you gave him that can so he'd shut up for a minute.

"It had a hole in it, Grim. Do you really think Vil wouldn't notice that?" You scoff, searching your closet for another nicer button-up.

The only good one you have is for your school uniform, but it needs to be washed, and you don't have time for that- Vil is literally on his way to pick you up.

"No, cuz it'll be hidden under the coat! Now hurry up, he just texted you he's here."

"What!?" You rush to your phone, quickly throwing on the shirt, rushing to button it up as you see the text.

"Okay, okay, okay- Uh, I left another can of tuna on the counter for you if you get hungry while I'm gone, and if anyone swings by needing me for something- I'm dead, got it?" You tell Grim, putting on your coat.

"Sure thing, henchhuman! Stay out as late as you need, the Great Grim has got things handled!" He says with a large smile, way too excited for you to leave.

Normally he complains anytime you go somewhere without him and get's all grumpy or will end up sneaking along after you. 

But today, he's been all too happy to help you get ready and push you out the door.

It's suspicious. He's been acting suspiciously for the last two weeks.

So have the others. Avoiding you, getting anxious and awkward when you're around. Lying.

You're not an idiot. They're up to something. You can't quite figure out what exactly but you can reckon it's probably something that you're going to have to fix later.

But right now, you've got more pressing issues.

Like stopping at the hall mirror to make sure your hair isn't messed up, and your skin's not greasy or anything.

When you open the door Vil is, as always, the vision of perfection. Dressed snuggly in a deep blue winter coat, black leather gloves, and a white fur scarf, his hair tied back in a bun, only the front half left loose to frame his face as it usually does.

His violet eyes glimmer when he sees you, swiftly putting his phone back in his pocket.

"There you are, are you ready to go?" He smiles.

"Yep!" You chuckle as you rub your hands together at the cold breeze that comes rushing in from outside.

It snowed particularly hard last night, so classes had been canceled today. But right now, the sky is clear, and the fresh snow sparkles under the late morning light.

The motion, however, catches Vil's eye, whose smile drops as he looks you up and down and raises a brow.

"It's quite cold out, MC, are you sure you don't want to put on gloves? And a scarf you be a good idea too. And maybe a different coat, that one simply is not your color, who did you let pick it out, Crowley? It hardly looks warm enough for the weather." He asks, poking at the sleeve of the item.

Actually, yes, he did pick it out. The cheapest one he could find.

"It's the only coat I have, and I don't have any gloves or anything. It's fine though, I've gotten pretty used to the cold by now." You laugh it off, and Vil's eyes narrow.

"Hm. Very well, let's just get going, I'm sure we can swing by Sam's shop and pick you up something." He nods, resolute.

"Oh, I don't really have any money for it. Not if I want to eat something other than the cheap microwave meals Crowley leaves for me over break." You wave your hands, stepping outside and closing the door before you let any more heat out.

It was hard enough getting the furnace working, you're not wasting a single second of the warmth it provides before it breaks again.

"Microwave meals!? Is that birdbrained idiot trying to kill you!? Do you know how many preservatives and chemicals are in those!?" Vil looks horrified and you can't help but chuckle, scratching at the back of your head nervously.

"Well, food is food, as Ruggie would say. We can worry more about it later if you'd like, but I'd really like to have some sort of fun on my snow day, don't you?" You ask, trying to change the subject.

The housewarden cringes at the idea of dropping the subject, but lets out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. We will be talking about this later though. Or at least I'll be talking with Crowley next housewarden's meeting." He mumbles the last bit as he grabs your arm, looping it through his.

Oh. Oh.

He leads the way down Ramshackle steps towards the gate. And you try not to think about you two looking awfully a lot like a couple.

Ice skating is a common winter date where you're from... And then you have a thought.

A stomach-dropping thought.

Is this a date?

You nearly stumble to a stop at the thought.

You didn't think to ask. Why would you!? It was such a random out-of-the-blue offer! You didn't think 'Would you like to go ice skating with me today?' translated to anything nonplatonic!

It's probably not a date. Probably.

So you quickly decide to distract yourself from the warmth radiating from where your and Vil's arms are locked.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know what's up with Epel lately? He and the others have been avoiding me. I think they're planning something, but I don't know what." You mention, and Vil glances at you with a small smirk.

"It just so happens I do. And trust me, it's nothing to worry about. Let's just focus on us today, yes?"

Oh, this might be a fucking date.

Fuuuuuuuck.

You would have tried so much harder to look nicer if you'd realized this sooner!

"O-okay. Well, how have you been with all the cold weather? Are you excited for the break?" You ask, suddenly feeling very nervous.

"I don't mind the cold, it dries out the skin, but simply adding an extra hydration step to my skincare routine in the morning and night is a simple fix for it." He informs and you smile.

"I've tried that face scrub stuff you got for me, and it works really well. Smells nice too. I'm almost out of it, so I'll have to save up for some more." You mention, the gift- or well, 'charity' as he called it at the time a few months ago, of skincare products.

It was nice of him, and you're pretty sure it was a 'thank you' for helping him during his overblot. Which is more than you got from Leona.

You've been able to set up a routine for yourself with it, probably nothing as complicated as his routine, but you're proud to say you have seen some improvements.

"Oh? I'm glad, I wasn't sure you'd use any of them, Epel certainly doesn't." He scoffs, and you chuckle.

"Yet somehow has incredible skin." You remark as you walk out the gate and towards the Alchemy Workshop

"I know, as to how he got so lucky when all he does is wash it with water and a cloth in the morning- sometimes- I will never understand." Vil sighs, bringing a hand to his head in disappointment.

"Well, at least he's got you to look out for him. Wish I were so lucky to have gotten the fair Vil Schoenheit as a guide throughout my time here at NRC. All I got was Crowley." You sigh, unintentionally leaning into him as a cold breeze passes through.

"Hm, well, if you'd like I can certainly dedicate some of my time to help you with self-care and style? And trust me, it's no burden on me. After all, if we're going to be seen together more, it ought to be my job to make sure you look good enough to impress. I want the world to see you as beautiful on the outside as I know you are on the inside." He meets your wide-eyed gaze with a soft smile.

There's a fondness in his eyes that you don't think you've ever seen before.

A fondness meant just for you.

"Oh my, are you sure you're not cold? Your face is all red." He asks, though there's a knowing look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

Oh, he's teasing you.

"I'm fine! I just didn't expect that! I don't get compliments often, you know?" You turn away, focusing on the path ahead of you.

"Oh, I doubt that sweet potato, with how selfless and determined you are? There are a lot of people here at NRC who should be singing your praises for everything you do for them." He brings his other free hand to rest on top of your arm, still locked with his.

"Well, all I really hear is people telling me that I shouldn't be so kind, or that I'm naive, too trusting, too generous, and foolish for never requesting anything in return... Sometimes it's like none of the students here even know what kindness is, the way they react to it." You can see the Alchemy Workshop ahead of you.

"Hm, I see. Well, I might agree in some aspects that you're too trusting and generous at times, but for the most part, it's... Not a bad thing. You've helped people, MC, even at your own detriment, and though the idea of you continuing to do so worries me, I know you will. Because you have a good heart. You care about people, even when they don't deserve your care. It's admirable." He sighs wistfully, staring off ahead, the condensation of his breath floating in the icy air around his face.

You pause when you reach the Alchemy Workshop, looking at him as he turns to you questioningly.

"... Thanks, Vil. You have a good heart too. Even if you don't show it very often. You look after your dormmates and underclassmen, you make sure they're taking care of themselves, eating healthy, and doing well in school. You encourage their passions a lot, even Epel's love for Spelldrive, despite not liking the sport yourself. You have your own way of caring about people, it's a more 'tough love' style than mine, but it's still just as admirable." You know he's thinking back to his own overblot and behavior leading up to it.

To be honest, it was bad, but people are more than just their worst moments.

And perhaps that is you being too forgiving, but empathy is something that NRC has been lacking for a long time. So perhaps it's just your cross to bear.

Vil meets your eyes for a long moment, thoughts swirling around those long lashes and pretty lavender irises.

"The way you're able to see people, sweet potato... It's a remarkable ability, you know that right?" He finally smiles, and it remains the most beautiful sight you've ever known.

"A blessing and a curse at times. Now come on, I wanna ice skate!" You laugh and pull at the connection of your arms to usher him forward.

"So you do know how? I never thought to ask, but I figured if you didn't I could teach you." Vil inquires as you walk around the building to see the frozen pond.

It looks beautiful, sparkling in the daylight. There are a few students on the other side skating, but they're far enough that you and Vil can still skate with plenty of room. It's a big pond after all.

"Kind of, I haven't in a while, so I might be a bit rusty- and certainly not as elegant as I'm sure you are." Of all the talents for Vil Schoenheit to have, ice skating may be the least surprising.

It's a beautiful hobby. Elegant, graceful, refined, and mature. All words that can describe ice skating and Vil.

"I only started learning a few years ago, and only really in the wintertime when I'm home alone on break. I picked it up to pass the time." He explains, walking you over to the pond edge where two bags sit- a note attached.

"You're alone during winter break?" You ask, slightly hesitant, not wanting it to be a sensitive topic, but he probably wouldn't have mentioned it if it was, right?

"Yes, my father's work schedule is usually packed, so he's not home often. I have the house to myself for the most part, save for the housekeepers." He picks up the note (you see that it's signed 'from Rook') and opens the bag nearest so you both can see the white ice skates inside.

"Oh, well, you can always call or text me during break if you get bored. I'd enjoy hearing from you." You grab the other bag as he hands it to you (ignoring how your hands brush), and he chuckles.

"I just might, sweet potato. Here, I sent Rook to buy these for you, so don't worry about returning them to me." He tells you.

You brush snow off a nearby tree stump and sit down to put them on. They fit perfectly, and you don't even want to begin to guess how Rook got your shoe size.

"You sure? I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it. Consider them one of your gifts. Now, let's go, we don't have all day." 

Wait, one of your what-

You stumble a bit and Vil's arm darts out to steady you.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine, just haven't worn a pair of these in a while!" You laugh it off, and you both make your way to the ice.

Vil is as elegant as you thought he'd be, gliding across the ice smoothly. You have a rocky start, nearly slipping straight onto your butt the moment you touch the ice, but you find your balance quickly.

The memories of your last time skating flow back to the forefront of your mind, and you manage to not look like a complete fool gliding across the ice with Vil.

"Gosh, it feels like so long ago since I last did this!" You laugh, doing slow wide circles around the ice with Vil.

"Hm, it is a rather elegant winter activity, we could make it a tradition if you'd like? Coming to ice skate before winter break. It would keep either of us from getting too rusty and I can give you some of the hydrating face masks I use in the morning and night to keep your face from getting dry- and lip balm, chapped lips will not be accepted while we're together." He asks you, and you turn to him, skating in front of him backward.

It's a bold offer. Everything about Vil had been bold today. Does he truly like you? Like, like-like you?

You certainly like-like him.

By the seven you sound like a middle schooler with their first ever crush. Hell, you've certainly felt like one for... Awhile now.

Every time you're near him, acting like a blushing idiot, twirling your hair and giggling. You're not actually doing either of those things, but you sure feel like it!

Ever since his overblot, he's been a consistent voice of reason in your life, helping you curb the chaotic tendencies of those around you every time he's around.

And somewhere along the line, you've developed that terrible fluttering in your stomach that people call a crush every time he speaks to you. Or offers to help with something. Or looks at you. Or calls you 'sweet potato' which really only started just before Halloween.

God, he really has been dropping big hints, huh? So you should make a bold move too, right?

By the seven, please don't let this backfire.

"I'd love to, but only if you let me take you out to dinner afterward." You smile, the slightest of nervous flushes on your face, and his eyes widen, startled, but so does his smirk.

"How bold. And here I was worried that even after today you wouldn't get the hint. It's a date, sweet potato." He skates closer to you.

"I'm not that dense you know, just... In a state of shock that you'd want to go out with me. You do know you could have anyone right? You're a famous model, actor, and the housewarden of Pomefiore. From what I've seen so far, there isn't a girl or guy alive that wouldn't throw themselves at your feet." You acknowledge and he just laughs.

"Ah, yes, all the guys and girls that would love to be with me just for my looks, fame, and money. No, thank you. I'll stick with one of the only people in the world who sees me. Who appreciates my help, even when others think I'm being a bitch. Who values my advice, and actually listens to it. Who makes me feel like I... for a single second... Don't need to try so hard to be perfect." You stop skating at his words.

So does he.

"Vil... You never have to be perfect with me. I'm not perfect. Neither is anyone I know- I mean, look at my best friends! They're morons! But I still love them! Because they make me laugh. They care about my wellbeing- in their own ways, and they're there for me when I really need them." You list fondly, skating just a bit closer to grab Vil's gloved hand.

"That's all I really need from anyone, and maybe to some people, that's a low bar, but hey, I'm happy. So it must not be that bad of a thing, you know? So if you're up to doing just those three things, then I'll gladly date you, and do the same in return." When you look up at him, he's watching you closely.

Or well, maybe not you.

Your lips.

"I think I'm quite capable of doing all of that. And more, if you'd allow me?" He glances to meet your gaze his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

You smile and nod.

And he kisses you. Slow, soft, and gentle. Warmth fills you, making the cold that your cheap coat couldn't keep out, melt away.

You lean into the kiss, and you have to stop yourself from chasing after it when he pulls away.

"Lots of those. That's also part of the deal- I require lots of those." You sigh wistfully and he laughs.

Bright, and melodic, and real.

You move to skate an inch back just to see it better and-

"Ack-!"

Your skate catches on something, stalling and sending you falling back.

Your arms frantically reach to grab something and stabilize yourself. At the same time, Vil quickly reaches forward to grab you, which he does, but then his skate trips over the same thing that must have tripped you.

You land in snow.

Ah. You two were at the edge of the pond.

You tripped on solid ground.

And dragged Vil down with you.

Not a great start to the relationship.

It takes a moment of blinking to fully process what just happened but when you do, you find Vil on top of you, a single hair fallen out of his bun.

Without thinking you reach out and tuck it behind his ear so it's less noticeable to someone who isn't this close to him.

His eyes meet yours and you flush, suddenly bashful and worried all at once.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?" You ask, feeling the snow below you, freezing cold seeping through your coat and clothes.

You use your hands to prop yourself up, ignoring the cold and how it starts to sting.

"I'm alright, are you?" He asks and you nod, looking around, your happy you two are now the only ones at the pond.

Vil may have agreed to date you, but he might quickly retract it if anyone saw that.

You sigh in relief, and then... You can't stop yourself from laughing.

"Care to enlighten me on what's so funny about this? Ugh, I've probably messed up my hair- and my clothes-" He pushes himself up, standing swiftly, brushing the snow off of his coat.

"Because we weren't paying attention at all!" You snort out, still laughing at the whole clumsy situation.

"Exactly! You could have gotten hurt, you are aware of that, correct?" He scolds, leaning down to offer you a hand up, which you gladly take while still giggling.

"Yeah, but we didn't, and this will be a hilarious first date story someday." You struggle to balance only for a second when he pulls you to your feet (he's stronger than you thought, duly noted) but he holds your arms to keep you steady.

"We are not telling anyone that I fell." He says firmly, but you smile up at him and can immediately see that fondness softening his sharp glare.

"Of course not. The beautiful and fair, Vil Schoenheit was my hero, helping me up, checking for injuries, kissing them better-" He scoffs as you giggle out the lie.

"We're not telling anyone that either, sweet potato. Let's just stick with you fell, and I helped you up, yes?" He smirks, and you sigh with a smile still glued to your face.

"As you wish, my fairest." You loop your arms and begin skating out towards the middle of the ice once more.

"How about you show me some of those fancier moves you were doing earlier? The figure skating stuff. I'm no master like you, but I think I can learn a few things." You suggest.

"I wouldn't call myself a master, but I can show you a few things I've learned, so watch closely, sweet potato."

"Oh, trust me, I will."

You two spend the next hour skating, Vil teaching you some more advanced moves, which leads to you falling once or twice more, but you get a few down before evening rolls around with no serious injury.

"I think we should probably head back now, my hands are going to go numb." You sigh, a little disappointed to call it quits, but your hands hurt from how cold they are, and you legs are getting tired too.

"That's probably for the best, to much time out in the cold is terrible for the skin." He sighs, already skating towards you.

"I though you had hydrating face masks for that?" You joke and he rolls his eyes.

"There's only so much a face mask can protect you from and prevent. Are you hungry? We can grab something to eat before we go back, my treat this time, since I was the one who invited you out after all." He suggests and you would like to protest that you should at least pay for your share but- you really don't have the money.

And you're actually starving. You both kind of skipped any kind of lunch, being too distracted with skating and confessions and all that.

Note to self, pack lunches next year.

"Sure, Mostro Lounge would be the best option-" You go to recommend, but Vil quickly interrupts.

"I was thinking of somewhere else. You've been to Mostro Lounge dozens of times, but I'd love to bring you to a restaurant in town that I think you'd like." He asks pulling out his phone and typing something very quickly.

"Oh? Okay. So long as Azul doesn't find out I'm cheating on him with another restaurant, we should be fine." You chuckle and your words draw one from Vil to.

"It's a small place, quaint, quiet, and... Homey. I think you'll enjoy it." Good, so nothing that's 5-star fine dining.

You're really not dressed for that kind of restaurant.

"Alright, but I should stop by and tell Grim I'll be out a little longer, or he might get worried."

"Oh, I think he'll be fine. You can text someone else to check on him if you're really worried, or I can have Rook do it?" He pulls you a bit closer to him as you shiver a bit from a cold wind.

Oh, yeah, Grim will definitely be fine.

"Alright. Lead the way, my fairest." You sigh with a dopey smile, and he glances down at you with a smirk.

"Is that your pet name for me now?" He asks with a raised brow and you nudge him.

"Like you can judge, you literally call me a potato!" You laugh.

"A sweet potato." He correct.

"Still a potato. But it's fine. I quite like it. Would you like me to call you something else?" You ask, tilting your head in his direction and he hums in thought.

"No, I think that will work. As well as darling, love, sweetheart, beauty, my queen- those all work too." He smiles proudly, and you giggle.

"Of course, my queen." You give a small, mock bow, and it's his turn to nudge you.

Today has been... Wonderful.

And even if you're alone during winter break, at least you know Vil is only a text or phone call away.

It'll be a good Christmas this year. You just know it.

~~~

Vote for the next character below!

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #2

(((TW: TW: Uh... I don't think there's anything worth putting a warning on?? Let me know in the comments if there is, and I'll update this.)))

Guilt - Narinder

Perhaps it was naive of him to think he could tolerate the pain.

Turning over onto his back is a motion that now that he's done, he thought he knew what to expect. But instead, the pain is just as piercing as before.

Still, he's able to push through it.

The idea of using his arms to push himself up, however?

He's tried twice now, and each time, his arms have cramped up, shaking violently as he falls back into place. His wrists are the worst, and he doesn't need to open his eyes to know there's scaring marring the fur around them.

He's sure it looks as awful as it feels.

No. Perhaps it feels worse. He can get over what it looks like, but this pain... He's not sure when it's going to stop. If it ever will.

What he is sure of is that he isn't letting it beat him. He tolerated the pain of his chains and being trapped in place for long enough. He will no longer let the phantoms of his torment hold him down.

Even if it means suffering with every movement he makes.

And damn, does he suffer.

He tries to use his legs, to push himself up and take some weight off his arms, but much to his dismay, his legs are in no better condition. Still, he persists.

His whole body is shaking by the time he shoves himself back up against the wall, in some semblance of a sitting position. He is damn near breathless and wants nothing more than to go back to sleep again and deal with his hunger later.

But he's worked too hard to give up now. Opening his eyes, it is dark in the room, the only light coming from the window to his right. It's just enough sunlight to make his eyes water, so he turns his head to the left.

The mixed meal is on the nightstand just next to the bed, and easily within arm's reach. He takes a long moment to relax before attempting to grab the food.

He's dizzy from his efforts.

He should try to organize his thoughts, but the task seems even more impossible than moving.

He was chained for centuries. Found a Lamb to kill the Bishops- his siblings, and free him. The Lamb kills the Bishops. The Lamb proceeds not tofree him but defeats him instead and steals his crown. They spare his life rather than kill him. Then force him to join their cult as a mere follower.

There is... A lot to unpack there.

Thinking about it all still brings forth an overwhelming surge of emotions that he's still not ready to face.

But what other option does he have? When he was chained, all he could do was boil and fester with rage. Plotting his vengeance, waiting.

Waiting.

Always. Fucking. Waiting.

For something to change. For a loyal vessel to appear. He got his vessel, but the loyal part...

He takes a sharp breath, straightening himself out more, and tragically finding that by resting, he's allowed the pain time to worsen.

Still, he pushes through, because as painful as it is, thinking about the Lamb is even worse than their piercing cramping along his spine. Twice as confusing too.

He takes the risk to grab the bowl and just narrowly misses knocking the bowl onto the ground with his shaking. He does spill some of it when he moves it into his lap, but it's the last of his concerns.

With the food right in front of him, he's suddenly contemplating how to eat. Just chew and swallow right? But how much does he have to chew? Does it need to be completely mush? That would be gross, but will he choke otherwise?

What will it taste like? He has only a vague memory of what fish tastes like, but he can't recall what other kinds of meat or beetroots taste like... He settles for starting with the fish steak, the most familiar of the foods, and ignores the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth in hopes the food will help.

It does not. The explosion of taste is nothing like he remembers. He can feel every speck of seasoning burning his tongue and a wave of nausea overtakes him. Chokes it out, spitting it back into the bowl, but the dryness of his mouth causes chunks to get stuck on his tongue and inside his cheeks.

He gags and coughs trying to get it all out of his mouth.

And like a lightning strike, because as he now knows the universe hates him, there is banging on the dresser.

"Narinder! I'm here to start working on your shelter upgrades! I also brought- Narinder!? Are you okay!?" The sentence is cut off when the Lamb realizes something is wrong.

"F-ack! I'm-" He tries to respond but is still choking on the taste of the food.

"Okay! I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your cult leader by coming in anyway!" And like that the dresser was shoved aside, teetering for a moment before falling over onto the ground with a loud crash.

The Lamb was by his side in an instant.

"Whoa, whoa! Take it easy, uh, wait here, I'll grab some water!" They bound away, leaving him with tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and hacking like he has a hairball in his throat.

It doesn't take them long though, and they're back beside him with a wooden cup of water trying to hand it to him. He makes a feeble attempt to grab it but his arms cramp up when he tries to close his fists around it, and they jerk back toward him.

He can feel splashes of water as they fall onto his lap and the Lamb catches the cup before it falls and spills completely.

"Careful, Narinder... Are you- never mind, dumb question, you're not okay. Here, let me see." They hesitate only a moment before reangling the cup and bringing it up to his mouth for him.

He's not in the condition or mood to argue, and just leans forward and accepts the water. It's only slightly cool, borderline room temperature, but it tastes holy. He uses the first swig to swirl around his mouth and get rid of as much dryness as he can before swallowing and then chugs the rest.

"Slow down, you'll choke! Again!" The lamb pulls away, and Narinder follows, ignoring the spike of pain it causes.

He needs more. He knew he was thirsty, but this... He feels like he could drink dry a whole lake.

"Please..." He begs, and a part of him wants to hiss and recoil away from the word, but another part just wants more water.

A part of him wants to scream, and claw at the Lamb, and wrestle his crown off their head, but another part just wants to cry and beg for help. For water, and food, and for them, hell anyone, to take the pain away.

The Lamb is silent before he caves, and brings the water back to him, and he returns to chugging it. He can feel trickles of water dripping out of his mouth and down his chin, but he doesn't care.

"I'll have to get more..." They murmur, and he thinks it's probably more to themselves than to him.

When the cup runs dry, he's left gasping for air, falling back against the wall, and flinching when it sends waves of aching through him.

"Feel better? Do you need more? Narinder, is this why you've stayed locked up in here? Why didn't you say anything!?" The Lamb waits a long moment before speaking, but when they do the questions come in waves.

"For ten... Seconds... Can you just... Shut. It." He openly glares at them as he gasps out the words- undermining their harshness.

They slam their mouth shut and chew at their bottom lip as they look at him. They clearly want to say more, but ultimately decide against it for the moment. Opting to instead busy themselves with grabbing the food still on his lap and setting it aside, and then going to pick the dresser up.

It doesn't take him long to catch his breath, and when he does, he's left watching the lamb as they start moving around the room, placing the dresser back into its rightful spot with ease. He only has a vague memory of having pushed the dresser in front of the door to begin with but he knows it wasn't- probably still isn't light.

How strong are they? How much of it is the crown's power? His power.

Not anymore.

"Yes. I want more water. And partially, yes, this is why I've stayed in here. That's all you're getting until I get more to drink." He sighs, turning his gaze away from the lamb, closing it just before it collides with a ray of sunlight rudely glaring through the window.

But the painful sunlight is better than the Lamb's wide-eyed gaze pinpointed on him as they contemplate what they said.

"I suppose I've already gotten my 'please' for the day?" They ask, and he snorts.

Almost laughs. Almost.

"Try for the month- year even." He sighs, and as much as he hates doing it, he relaxes.

The water had helped, and he does feel better. A lot better.

"Right, well... I'll be back... We need to talk, Narinder. About everything. Maybe not today, but eventually, and hiding in here isn't going to make that fact go away... So just... Think about it." 

And they're gone before he can give some hissed insult or aggressive remark.

He's tired, but his body has been sleeping for too long, and he's restless. Mentally, and physically. So he waits.

Again. Always waiting.

He's thankful he's not left with that thought for long as the Lamb returns just as it starts to form. The cup is full once more.

"Do you still-" Need my help?

"Yes." Narinder interrupts them before they can finish the sentence, as if not hearing the end of it will somehow nullify the effect it has on his pride to say yes.

The Lamb doesn't push the subject, and just mimics their earlier motion, aiding him in drinking the second cup. He takes it slower this time, letting himself enjoy how it soothes his throat and eases his nausea.

When they pull away again, he's more confident in his ability to meet their eye, and he's haunted by the venomous amount of sympathy he finds in them. Pity.

"So, do you want to explain why your arms are no longer working? Or do you want me to speed run some guesses and you can tell me when I hit the mark?" They offer a gentle smile and he hates it.

He hates how sincere it looks, and he wants to claw it off his face.

He settles for closing his eyes again.

"I've been chained for so long... I could tolerate the pain when I was a god, but now... This mortal body is weak, and suffering the phantom aches of my imprisonment." He confesses.

And everything hurts so bad.

His mind screams.

He flinches when he feels the bed shift, and his eyes shoot open to see the Lamb sitting down on the corner of the bed. They sit a... Safe distance away.

"I... Didn't realize... I knew you'd need to rest after the whole fight, but I guess centuries in chains, unmoving probably hasn't left you feeling great either..." They recap as if that's supposed to make it better.

"Obviously not. While I'm complaining, can you close the window better? Even as a god, my eyes were light-sensitive, hence the veil." He peeks an eye open to observe them as they stand and do what he asks.

"Oh, sure. I had a hunch that was the case, but I also kind of thought it was just for aesthetics... You looked pretty cool in it." They chuckle as they fix the window, and he opens his eyes as the harsh light is subdued.

"Of course I did." He scoffs but makes no further comment on it.

He never thought much about the veil. It was a necessity, to protect his eyes. Kallamar thought it was creepy. Leshy and Heket used to tease him, calling him edgy and that he should just 'deal with the pain'. Shamura was the only one to understand that god or not, the pain was intolerable.

They had even made him a rather nice spider web veil once- that he wore for special events as it was a bit too elegant for everyday occasions. He doesn't know where it is nowadays, most likely lost to time.

"Well, I can see if I can get something like it from Berith. For now, though, I think working on fixing your movement issue takes priority. I've never seen anything like it, so I'll have to ask around. Maybe Noon will know..." He's not sure who the hell Noon is, but that's less important.

"I don't need your-"

"I don't care. I was trying to respect your boundaries, Narinder; I thought 'he needs time to work through his thoughts right now.' and if I pushed you, I'd just make it worse, but this isn't about pushing. You're in pain, and you can't move. That's too big of a problem to just leave you alone to work it out by yourself!" They interrupt and hold out an empty palm, a silent question.

Every inch of him screams not to trust this. His fur raised, and pupils dilated- they probably have been since the moment the Lamb entered the room.

Yet, every other part of him is screaming in pain.

The real answer to the Lambs question is dependent on which instinct screams louder. Distrust or pain?

The pain, the pain, the pain, the pain.

He stretches out his arm. It's shaking less than before at least.

The Lamb is slow and cautious as they reach out and with a feather-light touch, cradling his arm in their hold.

Looking at it now himself, he realizes he was right about the scarring. The embedded chain-like scaring in his bare skin, fur marred and no longer growing there- like some kind of mange. There is still dried blood surrounding the scabbed wounds- deep from what he can feel and tell.

He doesn't doubt that if he moved his wrist around too much they would re-open and start bleeding profusely once again. The same with his ankles, and around his torso.

One glance down confirms it. It's not as bad around his torso, and the wounds are not as deep or as ugly. His fur being an oily, ungroomed wreck doesn't help make it look better though.

He's a mess. A disgusting, wounded mess. It's humiliating.

He can feel his ears pressed to the back of his head in shame as the lamb carefully runs their hand over the wound. He flinches when they run over a particularly deep scab, and they jump back, pulling the offending hand away.

"Sorry! I didn't... This should have been taken care of the moment you arrived, I'm sorry I didn't see to it." They close their eyes for a moment, and when they open them again, there is a fire in them that Narinder nearly flinches again at the sight of.

"Yeah, well... I didn't exactly tell anyone so what could you have done?" He gives a dry laugh, to settle his nerves, and starts to pull his arm back to himself.

"That's no excuse. I'm a leader, and my job's most important part is ensuring my followers are safe and well. I should have known you wouldn't be perfectly fine physically after the fight, I should have... I should have checked on you sooner, even if you clawed my throat out when I tried." They leaned forward to catch his arm gently, examining it once more.

They are silent again, and Narinder watches them carefully as they follow the scarring with their eyes. Up his forearms, upper arms, shoulder, chest, and neck.

All a mess. Like a mangled stray, he both looks and feels like he's gotten into a fistfight with a thorn bush.

And lost.

Eventually, their eyes meet, and the spell of... Whatever is happening, is broken.

He yanks his arm back with a painful hiss, leaning away from the Lamb's suddenly overwhelming amount of attention.

They hold their hands up as they stand, unbothered by the sudden aggression.

"Right. Well, I need to go get a lot of supplies, and then, unless you want me to get someone else to do it, we need to get you cleaned up. You're only going to get worse if we don't." They pause as they're walking away, and turn to him, waiting for his response.

"Like I want any of those mindless mortal morons anywhere near me..." He growls, sinking further into himself.

He's enraged by the Lamb's care and wants to rip them apart.

He's still hungry, but he'd rather die than put more food in his mouth after his first experience.

He's restless, and he wants to be able to move again.

And yet he's so fucking tired at the same time. He's tired of being angry, hungry, and restless. He's tired of fighting against chains they aren't even there anymore. He's tired of waiting.

Always waiting.

But the Lamb doesn't make him wait long.

They're bounding through the curtains- he notices that it's turned gloomy outside- with an armload of bandages, rags, and wooden jars of something.

"I have to run outside again, Theo's holding the water, but I figured you wouldn't want anyone coming in." They toss all of the supplies at the end of the bed, near his feet, and he peers at them, trying to figure out what the jars are.

He hardly notices they left again they're back so quickly, with a large wooden basin of water, that they sit on the ground next to the bed as they sit down next to them.

They sit closer this time, and he bites back a hiss as their leg brushes against his.

They pause when they see the clear cringe adorning his features.

"... I know this isn't the best-case scenario for you, but you have to know that I'm just trying to make things easier for you, so please, just let me help..." They sigh and lean away to give him space to adjust.

Easier for him?

How is their help meant to make anything easier? Even if they could snap their fingers and erase all the pain in his body, there is nothing they can do to rid him of... Of this.

This embarrassment and humiliation of needing the very person who put him in this position to help him out of it.

To put bandages on his wounds, a roof over his head, and act like everything is perfectly fine now.

Like he can just move on, and forgive and forget? Become another happy, brainless little follower in their cult, doing whatever they ask and worshipping the ground they walk on?

No. He can never do that. Not when he knows what the Lamb truly is.

Just a pathetic mortal made god via deceit and betrayal. The last of their kind, and a heretic no better than the ones they go about massacring on their crusades.

And this guilt, and pity that he sees in their eyes as they watch him think?

A confirmation. They're doing this to make themselves feel better. Not to help. But to ease their guilt, to try and absolve themselves of their crimes.

He hates them.

He does not doubt it, and no amount of their help will ever change that fact. None of their help will ever make this burning anger in his chest cool, or the venom lacing his tongue evaporate.

None of it will take away the heavy grief that presses on his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Grief that everything he did, everything that he had the Lamb do, was for nothing.

He's still trapped. This time with the very being meant to have freed him.

"I will let you help me. I will let you treat my wounds, bring me food, and upgrade my home all you want, but make no mistake, Lamb. 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." He hisses, with so much poison in his voice, he's sure even Heket would be impressed if she could hear him now.

He watches as the Lamb's eyes widen, and his face contorts with a mix of emotion. Confusion. Anger. Hurt.

He watches as they open and close their mouth, clearly too shocked to string a proper sentence together.

He watches as water begins to well in their eyes, tears prickling the corners.

He watches as they swiftly stand and move away towards the door and out of the shelter.

And in the end, his fists clench. The pain shooting through his arms is ignored as another, overwhelming emotion, that simply must be this mortal body's fault clouds his mind and weighs heavy on his shoulders, sinking him further into himself.

Guilt.

~~~

Brownie points to anyone who caught the Fairly Odd Parents joke.

Anyway, I feel like I should preface things for the next chapter by saying Narilamb is currently VERY one-sided. The Lamb has feelings for Narinder that you'll see in the future, but Narinder truly never picked up on them, and his anger and hate are very much the only things he feels toward the Lamb. FOR NOW. Eventually, he'll have some more existential crisis about it. But not now Kitten Whiskers, Daddy will discuss it later. (Ya'll better get that. If you don't, I can't help you.)

Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Savanaclaw 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: Heartslaybul Edition!

Warnings: None.

Request Rules & Information Here

~~~

Riddle Rosehearts - "Queen of Hearts" by We The Kings

- Doesn't mean to eavesdrop- truly he doesn't- but when he hears the opening lines of the song he can't help but pause, wondering if this is a song dedicated to the ACTUAL Queen of Hearts that he's just never heard before.

- He doesn't listen to popular music very often, he's more of a classical music while studying kind of person, but you have a rather impressive voice, and the song is honestly very... Sweet.

- He doesn't get some of the references in the verses, but the chorus is very charming, paired with your voice, and the bright smile on your face as you playfully sweep around the room (not very efficient for cleaning, but you are obviously having fun, so-).

- When you notice him, he turns a unique shade of red, stumbling out an apology for intruding, he just needs to talk to you about—what did he need to talk to you about again?

- He can't remember b-but he thought your singing was lovely! And you're clearly busy so you should get back to it! The cleaning part! N-not the singing! Unless you want to sing again!

- He would certainly love to hear you... If you are comfortable singing the song for him again that is?

"I've never heard that song before, but I liked it a lot... Would you mind singing it again? I'd love to hear yo- it again."

~~~

Trey Clover - "Coffee Cake" by Benson Boone

- He was only swinging by Ramshackle to drop off some spare baked goods that he just had extra of and totally didn't specifically make for you.

- Anyway-

- When he heard you singing he paused in his tracks, leaning against the doorway to listen to you singing with so much energy and a bright smile on your face.

- It's like you're having your own little concert while you dusted- occasionally using said feather duster as a makeshift microphone. It's adorable.

- He can't help but smile softly at the scene- he's unfamiliar with the song, and yet it fits your voice so well.

- A little startled when you notice him, but not at all ashamed- you were amazing, how could he not stop and stare? Now would you like to take a break with him and tell him all about that song and its meaning?

- He's already thinking of a dozen different coffee cake recipes now to share with you, the song stuck in his head, and he'll probably be humming it while he bakes for the next week, thinking about you the whole time.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed, I thought you sounded incredible. You should sing more often, perhaps while we bake some actual coffee cake together?"

~~~

Cater Diamond - "La Da Dee" by Cody Simpson

- He wasn't even planning to stop by Ramshackle today until Grim showed up at Heartslaybul complaining about you doing nothing 'fun' just 'boring chores' and while he had no intention of actually helping clean, he figured he'd at least grace you with his presence to liven things up and keep you company!

- It's totally not because this is the first opportunity he's had in weeks to spend some alone time with you- hahaha-

- The moment he hears you singing he whips out his phone at the speed of light, rushing to start recording the moment so he can hear your amazing voice singing the sweet, energetic love song over and over.

- When you spot him he is shameless about it, loudly brushing off any embarrassment on your part to immediately praise your voice and the song. Did you write that yourself? Oh, is it new? Who's it by? You have to send him a link! Oh, it's from your world? Oh, he's totes jealous! Your world has seriously great music!

- Will literally beg you to let him post that video of you singing, you were so amazing! Your pitch, tone, energy, all of it was perfect! You'd go Magicam famous!

- If you don't want it posted he'll pout and won't post it- but he certainly won't delete it either, after all, you might change your mind someday! (And he totally wants to go back and watch it on his own time but he's not admitting that.)

"You should totally join the Pop Music Club! You can tell us all about more music from your world- we can even try to play some covers of some of the songs! And you'd look amazing in a custom club outfit! Think of the Magicam posts, MC!"

~~~

Ace Trappola - "Wild Heart" by The Vamps

- Oh.

- Ohohohoho- You are never living this down.

- You can sing!? Not to mention that song! He's certain he's never heard it before but damn are you performing it well. He's got half a mind to pull a Cater move and record you for blackmail later- or just to have for himself.

- He tries to be sneaky- but at one point when you do a fun spin while belting the bridge- oh, he just can't help himself- grabbing you and spinning you in a circle with that mischievous, cocky smile of his and a loud teasing laugh.

- Huh, what are you embarrassed about? You sounded great! He had no idea you had such a great set of pipes on ya! You should sing for him again- that song was great too, were you thinkin' of him while singin' it? It sounds like a good description of him.

- He'll only lay off if you tell him he should help with the cleaning- to which he'll quickly lay off it in favor of dragging you off to help him with whatever trouble he came over in the first place to drag you into.

"Aww, come on, Prefect! Lemme hear you sing one more time! You sounded good, and that song was totally up my alley!"

~~~

Deuce Spade - "Last First Kiss" by One Direction

- Is entranced. Unlike the others who knew they were eavesdropping/knew it was a private moment, he doesn't really get the memo.

- He's too caught by surprise by your amazing voice and the song to realize he's staring in awe like a creep. It's rather romantic... And he can't help but fantasize for a moment that maybe- just maybe...

- And then you spot him. And he turns redder than Riddle when he's throwing a tantrum.

- He didn't mean to be weird or make you embarrassed he promises! He just thought you sounded really nice!!

- He will apologize sooo much until you assure him it's alright and to just not tease you. Tease you? How could he ever do that!? You were amazing! You sounded like a professional singer- at least to him, you did!

- You can go back to singing if you want- he'll even help you with your cleaning as an apology for barging in (totally not just an excuse to maybe hear you sing again while you work).

"I'm really sorry again! I just... Thought you sounded really nice is all... I'll help you with the chores to make up for it! But, feel free to go back to singing. I really liked that song..."

~~~

And that's all folks! My first-ever Twisted Wonderland fanfiction post! I hope I got the personalities right, please comment with your thoughts and opinions! Love ya, and see ya next post ~ Roo

Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Heartslabyul Edition, Savanaclaw 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: Octavinelle Edition!

Warnings: None.

Request Rules & Information Here

~~~

Azul Ashengrotto - "Adore You" by Harry Styles

- Why did he stop by Ramshackle? He can't remember. It was something about taste testing the new spring menu, maybe? He's not sure it matters anymore, given how enamored he is with the sound of your voice right now.

- Is frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights, he hadn't even realized it was you singing (he thought it was from your phone or something on a radio) until he turned the corner and saw you.

- When you see him, he turns all kind of shades of scarlet, embarrassed at being caught staring, but he quickly composes himself.

- Immediate compliments followed quickly by an offer to sing at the Mostro Lounge sometime- you'd be paid generously of course-

- On the outside he's acting cool, but the song in question really did fluster him quite a bit, and thoughts of you singing it again just for him keep intruding in his mind, and if you look closely you can see his ears remain a pretty shade of pink the whole conversation after.

- Does truly think you would look stunning dressed up in lavish clothes, preforming on the stage of the Mostro Lounge, are you sure you don't want to? He'll throw in a free meal plus pay!

"My, my, MC, that was a lovely performance. You should put those wonderful vocals to use, I'm sure everyone would be in awe of you at the Lounge. Some may even show up just to see you- I certainly would."

~~~

Jade Leech - "Dive" by Olivia Dean

- He's honestly quiet pleasantly surprised when he enters Ramshackle (without knocking of course) and hears your wonderful singing voice.

- A soft (dare I say genuine?) smile makes it's way to his face as he approaches the living area where you're cleaning, and stands patiently in the doorway for you to finish the song- one he's never heard before but it flows rather smoothly, much like the jazz played at the lounge.

- He finds the lyrics rather intriguing too, now what would inspire you to sing such a romantic song? A crush perhaps? The idea of you having enough of a crush on someone to sing such a song about them makes him... Well, he'll just focus on what he has right in front of him for now, and save those pesky feelings for later self-analysis.

- When you catch him he is completely shameless in his staring, as a matter of fact, his smile grows, before he gives a curious tilt of his head and motions with his hand for you to continue.

- What? Your voice was beautiful, of course he wants to hear it more. What's he doing here? Oh, well, he's come to ask if you'd like to be the first to taste test the Mostro Lounges new spring menu.

- Sure he didn't knock, but it's honestly your fault for not locking the front door- oh, the locks are broken? That can't possibly be safe. Perhaps you should stay at Octavinelle until they are fixed, that way he can hear your voice much more often.

- As a matter of fact, instead of 100 thaumarks a night for a room, he's sure he can arrange for you to sing at the Lounge every night for payment instead.

"Oh, please don't mind me, continue. Your voice is quite delightful, you should consider singing at the Lounge- though, I'm not sure I want anyone else to hear you but me..."

~~~

Floyd Leech - "Risk" by Gracie Abrams

- oHohOHo, you're never gonna live this down PT. 3

- The moment he barges into Ramshackle in a poor mood, looking for his favorite Shrimpy to cheer him up, he freezes at the sound of you're voice.

- But not for long.

- One second, you're alone, singing as you do some chores, and the next second you're being spun around in Floyd Leech's arms as he laughs cheerfully.

- He loves your voice. Keep singing! He wants to dance with you while you do! Forget those boring chores! He's here now, so you can both have fun! You're so adorable he could squeeze you till you pop!

- You should come by the lounge sometimes and sing to him to make his shifts less boring. He's sure Azul wouldn't mind- and if he does, then you two can just leave and have your own party elsewhere!

- He will, without a doubt, demand that you sing to and for him at the most random of times, hell, he might even barge into the middle of your class in a foul mood and demand a serenade from his Shrimpy.

- If you truly won't sing to him, his mood may worsen and you won't see him for awhile while he sorts himself out, whereas if you do sing for him, he will immediately start to feel better.

- The best moment he could ask for to fix his mood, is laying beside you his head in your lap, while you sing. It helps him decompress, and feel so much better from whatever was overwhelming him or souring his mood.

"Shrimpy~! Nice set of pipes! Well, don't stop singing, let's dance together! I knew you'd be doin' something fun, you always cheer me right up!"

~~~

Can you guys tell that Octavinelle is one of my favorite dorms? Particularly the twins? Especially Floyd, his unpredictability with his mood swings are very relatable as someone with severe untreated ADHD and bipolar tendencies. I just think he's neat guys. And fun to write. Anyway! Merry Christmas everyone, and I'll see you next post! ~ 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.

The new chapter for Cult of the Lamb: Redemption is out now guys on Ao3!

There's a part near the beginning where I tried to casually pepper in that Narinder is trans in this story. I didn't want to have a super cliche, 'omg he's trans!' moment because ew. We exist irl guys, we're not exotic animals to be gawked at when you see us in public.

I also mildly gave a slight insight into the state of medical practices in the cult regarding things like top surgery and such. Which I imagine wouldn't be super safe given the lack of tools, and knowledge, and that half the followers (at least on my game) have the messed up desire to eat literal shit and keep getting sick from it, and that kind of takes the focus away from trying to make more important medical discoveries and advancements.

Homies, Miki is holding this place together with nothing but her vague knowledge of medicine from reading like, four books about it and several years of seeing what works and what kills people, lol.

Anyway! Enjoy the new chapter guys, see you at 8:30 when I post again!

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.