Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Everything I write for Twisted Wonderland is listed below, categorized by dorm and characters!

Requests are: OPEN!!

Rules.

HEARTSLABYUL:

All - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Riddle Rosehearts - None yet

Trey Clover - None yet

Cater Diamond - None yet

Ace Trappola - None yet

Deuce Spade - None yet

SAVANACLAW:

All - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Leona Kingscholar - None yet

Ruggie Bucchi - None yet

Jack Howl - None yet

OCTAVINELLE:

All - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Azul Ashengrotto - None yet

Jade Leech - None yet

Floyd Leech - None yet

SCARABIA:

Kalim Al-Asim - None yet

Jamil Viper - None yet

POMEFIORE:

Vil Schoenheit - None yet

Rook Hunt - None yet

Epel Felmier - None yet

IGNIHYDE:

Idia Shroud - None yet

Ortho Shroud (Platonic Only) - None yet

DIASOMNIA:

Malleus Draconia - None yet

Lilia Vanrouge - None yet

Silver - None yet

Sebek Zigvolt - None yet

RAMSHACKLE:

Grim (Platonic Only) - None yet

HOLIDAY SPECIALS:

Christmas 2024 - The 12 Days of Twisted Wonderland!, The 12 Days of Twisted Wonderland - Prologue, Day 1 - Ice Skating with Vil!, Day 2 - Snowmen & Snow Angels with Kalim!,

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

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!

Day 2 - Snowmen & Snow Angels with Kalim!

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prologue, Day 1

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

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

Included Characters: Kalim Al-Asim

Warnings: Mild Swearing.

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

Who would've guessed?

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

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

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

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

How could you possibly say no to him?

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

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

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

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

"Okay! I'll be waiting!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Jamil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's adorable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kalim mimics your movement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Completely fascinated by whatever it is you're doing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A perfect snow angel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course it is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah! Kalim-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's just Kalim.

Warm, radiant, fun, and joyful Kalim.

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

He likes you. He really, actually likes you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like he's nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has that panicked look in his eyes.

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

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

How can you say no to that face?

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

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

And then again.

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

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

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

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

~~~

Vote for the next character below!

Cotl Fanfic - Thoughts & Opinions?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #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.)

Am I thinking about making this a Twisted Wonderland chat-fic/smau dedicated blog? Maybe.

I don't have that weird iMessage app that a lot of chat-fi maker people have, I couldn't find it for my phone, so I'd just be using one that's similar that I found...

Idk y'all, I want to try and expand my writing skills, and my ability to get different characters' unique personalities right, so I figured, even if I'm bad at it, it's good practice right? And I can have some fun doing it, cuz I read so many myself, and I have so many scenarios that I want to write that no one else has done, so... I guess just tell me what ya'll think.

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #3

TW: Graphic depictions of injuries and wounds.

Patience - Lamb

Words hurt.

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

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

But they've never felt it themselves until now.

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

But now?

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

They want to keep them happy, and well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They feel so stupid.

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

That they care about him.

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

Perhaps they shouldn't have spared him.

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

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

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

Hate. He hates them.

~~~

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

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

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

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

Forgive me...

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

~~~

Empathize. Just. Empathize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taken them by surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

"Technically-"

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

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

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

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

Maybe something wooden, with a nice carving on it.

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

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

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

As if he was still towering over them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They had frozen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Empathizing. Like Noon suggested.

Being patient. Like Ratau said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they can never have what they want.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They'll clean it later.

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

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

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

"Can you-"

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

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

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

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

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

Struggling...

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

Years of suffering. Struggling. Fighting against his binds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They're close. Way too close. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do they want to?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn't care at all.

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

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

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

It hurts so damn bad.

And then he let's go.

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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.