interests: DRAWING, WRITING, VIDEO GAMES, reading, manga, painting, cute things, anything horror, crochet, cosplay, playing piano, anime, makeup, taxidermy
fandoms: CULT OF THE LAMB, DOG MAN, DELTARUNE, THE BINDING OF ISAAC, eddsworld, danganronpa, franbow, sally face, my little pony, power puff girls, camp camp, five nights at freddy’s, doki doki literature club, undertale, mouthwashing + much, much more!!
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wolf in sheep’s clothing master list
my content includes: blood, gore, mild body horror, guts, eye contact, romance, and kissing. my main fanfic that i’m writing and making fan art for does include a toxic, romantic relationship between two characters. i’m careful to not romanticize it & do not condone these actions!
by engaging with my content, you understand these subjects may come up. you have been warned. though, if blood and romance isn’t your thing, no worries! ^^
tags will be used for these topics for your ease of filtering! with extreme gore or horror themes, they’ll be under the cut of the post with the proper warning! :3
It started with a joke. Harmlessly pressing their lips to her forehead, as a way to act as if they were healing her. Narinder protested; they weren’t exactly on kissing terms. But it didn’t stop her heart from fluttering when they closed in, her senses flooded with their floral scent. Her mouth went dry.
“Lamb, don’t do that again!” she warned, wiping away the kiss with her paw. She was greatful her dark coat and veil concealed the blush forming on her face. Lamb giggled.
“Sorry, I wanted to cheer you up,” they answered, giving a half-hearted apology.
“How could that possibly make me happy, especially since you ⸺” Narinder paused.
“What?”
“Um, my headache is gone,” she admitted, mumbling. She turned her head down, but Lamb could still hear.
“Oh!” they replied. Then, suddenly, their hands were on her face as they turned her head, kissing her cheek and chin. “Still sick?”
“. . . No.” Narinder rolled her eyes, her tail whipping. Her claws were out and she looked ready to attack. Lamb ignored this.
“Perfect. Now you can go up the mountain with me.” Narinder groaned, but got up, begrudenly. They needed resources, anyways. Winter wouldn’t be kind to their cult. It hadn’t started yet, but it would soon.
Having gone once up the mountain by themselves once, Lamb was more familiar with the way to Ewefall. After all, it was their kin, not Narinder’s. The bell had previously compelled them home, late into the night when their cult was asleep. Lamb had accepted long ago there family was gone. With Woolhaven being discovered, it dug up feelings they didn’t want to dwell on. Narinder usually went on crusades with them anyways, so Lamb didn’t have to come up with an excuse. They weren’t strong enough to face it on their own, in truth. Narinder knew this and cared about them, deep down, even if she denied it.
Lamb formed the crown into a dagger, absorbing Death’s Sweep. Narinder followed along, her scythe ready in her hands. Immediately, there were thrown into the snow, being charged at by wolves. The snow falling and wet ground would be a learning curve Narinder would have to get used to. Another problem, she hadn’t experienced a winter in centuries. At some point, her winter coat stopped coming in. Brreathing out, Narinder could see her breath in the air. While her cloak had a hood, it wasn’t made to protect against this kind of weather. She had no time to complain, as a wolf was running towards her. It had a metal mask on, sort of like a muzzle, something Narinder hadn’t seen before. Slashing into it, the blade of her scythe scrapped against the metal mask, screetching as it did so. She could feel their life depleting a bit, but she wasn’t prepared for the mask popping off. Bleeding with a gash in bicep, their cloak torn, the wolf lunged towards Narinder, catching her off guard. She screamed when their jaws bit into her forearm, a small chunk of her flesh going with it.
Stabbing at a wolf, Lamb dodged the bombs that slipped out of the wolf’s ropes. Their eyes snapped to Narinder. Quickly, Lamb summoned Death’s Sweep, which quickly killed the wolf attacking her. Her hands turned clammy, struggling to grip the sycthe as she fought off another wolf. This time, she was prepared, but the pain was causing her mind to fog up. Blood soaked into her robes, running down her arm and dripping as she flung her weapon. A wolf burrowed in the snow towards Lamb, icicles erupting from the ground as it moved. Lamb was quick to move out of the way. Stabbing it enough times, the wolf flipped on their back, and Lamb killed them with a final stab. Fervor fell before being absorbed into the crown and Lamb took down the last enemy.
Not only was winter coming, these wolves were more aggressive than anything the two previously faced. Lamb’s head was spinning with thoughts, panicking, dreading what was to come.
“Nayen,” Narinder said after a moment, struggling to think. Her breath shuttered, blowing out into clouds of frost. They breathed in, snapping out of their thoughts.
“Sorry! Are you okay? I might have some camellias left ⸺” She tore the scrap of fabric, now torn, from her robes, obviously impatient given her injuries.
“Just kiss me.”
Lamb blinked, processing, before immediately walking over to her, their face heating up. They didn’t have to be told twice. Blood on their sleeves, they cupped her face again, pressing their lips against hers. Narinder immediately pushed them away, her tail frizzing out. She had to catch her breath for a second, staring at them with wide eyes. “Why on the mouth? With no hesitation?” Narinder kept her hands on their shoulders, fighting pushing them to the ground and closing the distance again. The pain, she could handle. She’d been through worse. The kissing, she could not.
“The wound is deeper! It’s not a simple cold like before! I was trying to heal you!” they stammered. “C’mon, we should use tongue, it’ll heal quicker.” They had a look in their eyes, like they hadn’t processed that was both their first kisses.
“Um,” Narinder started, trembling at the thought.
“Hells below, you’re bleeding! Kiss me!” Lamb moved their face closer to hers before pausing, waiting. Narinder’s mind was flipping between ‘this is a terrible idea!’ and ‘take the lead!’ Shaking in excitement, she met Lamb half-way and kissed them. Like they requested, her tongue swiped against their bottom lip before her tongue was in their mouth. Narinder let herself kiss Lamb for a few moments longer than necessary, before pulling away to breathe. Obviously, the kiss was for healing, but she found herself hoping she was a decent kisser. Lamb watched as the skin reformed, before Narinder wiped her mouth and pushed them away completely.
“All better?” they asked, stealing glances at her. She nodded, wiping her bloody scythe against her stained robes. “Try not to get hurt again, unless, y’know, you want an excuse to kiss me,” Lamb teased.
“You wish. Maybe this time, tell me what we’re up against before I find out too late!” she snapped, forbidding her mind to think of how soft their lips were.
“Hm, what’s your type?” Lamb asked Nana, their voice a bit teasing. They were clearly joking with the conversation. Nana seemed a little flustered, oblivious to their unseriousness.
“Someone who gives their all to people and is kind.” A small, nervous laugh left her mouth. Oh, she was obviously talking about Lamb’s facade. Gross. “What about you?” Narinder almost barged through the doors then and there. She was ready to tell Nana to never ask their leader that. But . . . she couldn’t show she was eavesdropping.
“Hm, someone shorter than me, I think. I like sweet and gentle people the most,” Lamb answered. Narinder’s ear couldn’t be more turned, her breath quiet against the temple’s wooden doors. Something in her shattered, but it wasn’t immediate. It took her a second to process what they said, her view of them breaking bit by bit.
Oh!
She was taller than them and the former Goddess of Death was neither sweet nor gentle.
Her paw was quick to muffle the sigh that left her lips. She felt a little detatched. Narinder decided to walk away, a bit quicker than her usual pace, straight to her hut. She scrambled to shut the door knob, her hands shaking, dropping papers to be scattered on the floor. She double-checked it was locked before letting her body slide against the door, collapsing to her knees.
Were they serious? Maybe they just said something random to get Nana to stop talking about it . . . She was staring blankly at the robe they gifted her, her mind lagging to catch up.
The blanket of security she was wrapping herself in, trying to convince herself, broke, when she realized Lamb had described Nana. Narinder could only read her mind, not Lamb’s. Obviously Nana liked them, but did they like her back?
She started to cry. Of course, Lamb liked her! She hadn’t betrayed her vessel after centuries of undying devotion. She hadn’t been the reason their entire race was whipped out. Narinder may have spoken to them through the crown, but Nana was their first follower. She saw it all; she was there for Lamb physically in a way Narinder never could’ve been.
A soft knock was at her door. Narinder almost yelped. She knew those footsteps.
“Nari?” Lamb asked, softly.
Narinder got up, her body shaking. Her thoughts were melting into one thing: Lamb. Full of want, of need, anger, desperation, all swirling together in her head. She didn’t want them, not now, possibly never again. She felt so scared, so weak, so vulnerable. Like she displayed herself for their affection, practically on a plate. But was she fit for consumption? She turned, pressing her forehead against the door, the palm of her hand touching the wood.
Why say you like me, too, then . . .
Why did you get so excited when I confessed . . .
Why say you miss me . . .
“Yeah?” Narinder called out, trying to steady her voice.
“Just checking up on you. I was waiting to hear back on the community’s tax reports?”
She breathed in. “Sorry, ’m feeling a bit unwell. I’ll pass the reports over to Nana.” She begged her voice not to break.
Lamb’s feet shifted a bit against the grass.
“Want me to see if you’re sick?” they asked.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes!
Hold me. Look at me for just one second. Let me pretend you see me that way, too. Say you love me, too. Tell me your words weren’t simply a cult leader listening to their God. I thought I meant more than that to you. Tell me I wasn’t alone in feeling like this.
Centuries of yearning, of imagining something more once freed, so sure in their reciprocation, all broke into nothing. Narinder imagined them beyond the door. Their lips. Their smell. Their wool. Their hands. Like they were her center point of gravity, dragging her impossibly closer to them. Her resolve was faltering.
“I’ll be okay, I promise,” Narinder reassured. Another tear slipped down her face. She felt like she was saying goodbye to them, to her love for them. Lamb didn’t know it, but the reality of it crashing down for her.
Lamb cleared their throat. “Okay, talk to you later. Feel better.”
The way they didn’t linger stung. How they hadn’t offered to heal her up themselves, with their own two hands. That they were so quick to turn away.
It all had amounted to nothing.
But, she still remembered what they had said.
“I’ll give you my all, Narinder. Don’t ask for my heart, it’s already yours.” Held gently in her palm, her paw shook a bit with their words.
“Mind your tongue. You might give the wrong impression. You’ll find me wanting . . . more,” she retorted, far too honest for her own good. They brought that out in her.
“Am I anything but a doting vessel?” Lamb had asked, quickly rubbing their face against her finger. “I mean it: I’ll give you everything.” That look in their eyes . . .
Maybe she had misremebered. Maybe they hadn’t been looking at her with love in their eyes. Maybe they were just friends. Worse, maybe they were just transactional God and vessel. Countless nights, daydreaming of them together. Sure, the betrayal and unsurping was still fresh. But that didn’t mean she wanted them to forget all about her. The fantasies of dating, wanting to know what their affection felt like, the sweetness in years of love being accepted and returned tenfold. She was stupid, so very stupid.
She was delusional to have ever thought they felt the same. That her need and want and yearning wasn’t all for nothing.
Goodbye, my love, she thought.
The tears continued. The false belief they loved her back had entirely shattered. The mixed signals she could deal with; the heartbreak she could not. Her brain was sluggish at first, before picking up the pace to trying to be indifferent. She would mourn; she would grieve. She would cry and scream and blame herself. But what she couldn’t do was fault Lamb or Nana. Even if it hurt, even if it made her sick, even if it killed her, she’d be happy for them. They’d be happy together and she’d be the perfect friend to them. It didn’t matter what Narinder wanted. Lamb needed her, at least like this. There was no room for anything else.
“Who are you people?” Lamb screamed. “Where am I? Are you with the Old Faith?”
Narinder’s head jerked towards the commotion in the healing bay. She had left for just a second, just to get Nana to watch over them while she was gone. Narinder was quick to get there, nervously ushering their following away from them. In the center, wearing a plain tunic much similar to the day they were sacrificed, stood an anxious Lamb, bandages wrapped around their forehead. Their fists were trembling, raised, ready to defend themselves.
The cat made her way towards them, grabbing their arm and practically yanking them out of the healing bay. Biting her lip, Narinder guided Lamb to their temple while they were still protesting and arguing, their anxiety high. They had no idea that they were strong enough to fend her off. Tears were in their eyes by the time they made their way to their room.
“Are you going to kill me?” they stammered out, voice wobbly. Narinder, sighing, took her hood and veil off, exposing her face. She stepped closer to them on their bed and the sight of her three eyes made Lamb jump. A hand delicately rested on their shoulder. The sudden movement made a whimper slip from their throat.
“Nayen,” Narinder softly said, “you’re safe here. No one is coming to hurt you.”
Panting a bit, trying to calm down, it took a few seconds for them to process what she had said. “Um,” they started, “who are you? How do you know my name?”
Narinder rubbed soft circles into their shoulder with her thumb, thinking of how much to tell them. You usurped me? You took away my free will? I’m trapped here with you?
“The others call me Fate, but you call me Narinder. I’m your right hand in command. The others are your community,” she explained, smiling at them softly.
They looked around their room a little bit, full of foreign objects. Tarot cards, crystals, relics, things they didn’t recognize, things they couldn’t name. Narinder was patient with them while they examined their surroundings, before their eyes rested on hers. They looked at her this time, really looked at her. Then at her hand on their shoulder. Color was forming on their cheeks. A pretty girl was alone with them in their room, touching them.
“Are we dating?” they blurted out. Narinder was dumbfounded at the question. She expected them to ask literally anything other than that. Moving her hand away from them quickly, it was her turn to stammer.
“Well,” she started, the words caught in her throat. They weren’t technically dating. Sure, before their concussion, they said they loved her all the time. Once, she even said it back. They almost kissed that one time they were drunk. Lamb was hopelessly obsessed with her to a concerning extent. But, no, they weren’t dating. “We like each other, yes,” is what Narinder decided to say. Her tail puffed up and her fur stood on end, she was a bit flustered. Lamb studied her for a second.
“Woah, a pretty girl like you and me?” Narinder was going to nod, but they continued, “have we kissed yet?” They were getting progressively more and more excited.
“How did you even come to that conclusion?” Narinder deflected. She didn’t know how much of this she could take. Lamb laughed at her, like she had said something stupid.
“Well, you’re obviously comfortable enough to touch me. And no one else knew my name except for my family. I thought we were just really good friends but apparently, I was mistaken.” They smiled at her. It was such a pure smile, something she hadn’t seen from them in centuries. Yes, this was certainly more than her heart could take. By now, alone in a room together, normal Lamb would probably be flirting with her and asking to kiss. Narinder wasn’t used to this form of them. But, Hells below, did she fucking like it. It was driving her a bit crazy.
“Okay, stop! Sorry, I’m not used to you being like this, I’m ⸺” She hid her blushing face with her hood and veil, shaky hands tying the fabric around her head. Narinder had to slow her breathing, calming down. She gripped her cloak with her palm, feeling the air come in and out of her lungs. She was treading on dangerous land.
“What am I usually like?” Lamb asked, barely above a whisper. Narinder’s eyes locked onto theirs again and she groaned. Even with their memories gone, they were tormenting her.
“Lamb -”
“I like when you call me Nayen,” she interjected.
“Nayen,” her voice was soft, embarrassed, “. . . you’re usually far more affectionate.”
Lamb cocked their head to the side, picking up the tension in the room. “Hmm. And you like it when I’m like that? Please tell me I’m not usually clinging to you and you hate it?” Narinder didn’t have a heart, in the traditional sense. It was full of ichor, an inorganic form in place of the real thing. Her real heart was staring at her, in Lamb’s chest. Quickly, she pried her eyes away from her chest. If she said yes, what would that mean? They’d date? Would this version of Lamb be normal? No more toxicity? Would she be loved like normal? Her heart was beating so fast she was convinced Lamb could hear it, too.
“Mhm,” Narinder replied. She was frazzled, taking another deep breath to calm down. “You’re just so different from usual, I don’t know how to feel,” she blurted out. Whenever Narinder felt backed into a corner like this, she was far too honest. But this version of Lamb wasn’t the one putting her into that box, it was herself. She had control this time, and she’d lead this version of them into loving her the right way. Even if she didn’t know how long they’d lose their memory.
“Good,” Lamb replied. Biting their lip, they thought carefully of what to say next. “Can you, um, teach me how I normally act?”
“With me? Or the cult?” Narinder’s head was swarming with thoughts. Half of her wanted their memory to come back so they’d smother her the way they always did. She wanted to kiss Lamb so bad. Sober this time, not drunk and confused. Lamb’s eyes traced her lips and jaw. They did always get nervous in front of pretty girls, they remembered.
“Both,” Lamb replied. Gingerly, they brought Narinder’s arms down. Their fingertip gently traced down her arm, to her wrist, to her palm. They could see it in her eyes, she was kicking down many mental gears to stay in this position, like a prey done running. She looked like she wanted to stay still and bolt out of there at the same time. “Teach me how to love you.”
Narinder’s head was fuzzy. They were so close together, they were breathing the same air. Things had escalated so fast. This time, she really was okay with kissing them. Interlocking their fingers together, gently, Lamb closed the distance between them. Their lips were soft against hers and Narinder’s eyes fluttered closed.
Maybe them getting a concussion and losing their memory wasn’t that bad, after all.
i recently got back into petscop and decided to draw my two fav characters, paul and care, both before and after his transition. paul has a shine in his eyes being his true self, and nlm care has no facial features, even though her face can be seen. paul didn’t recognize himself pre transition in the pictures, which is likely due to the memory loss from the trauma marvin enforced on him with the tool, rebirth, and being kidnapped. i’m under the trans umbrella, maybe transmasc? so i relate to both paul and care a lot
art studies! also my oc ellani! i used images off of pinterest as my references n it definitely helped me a lot! i have a sketchbook and my goal is to finish it by the end of this year, or maybe 2026?
Chapter Summary: With Narinder successfully poisoned and drunk, Lamb acts as his caretaker. Nana wants to come clean about their plan, as Narinder and her are close friends, and angered, Lamb chokes her, though not before another cultist intervenes.
Author’s Note: credit to @maibel-mai for inspiring me to make this fic & giving me permission to post this! this fic is also cross-posted on AO3.
“What do you think about this one?” Lamb asked, carefully placing a glass of gin in Narinder’s paws. Their skin burned up as their hands briefly touched. Although Lamb was always rather touchy with her, every time they touched, they still burned up all the same. Slowly, Narinder drank it, taking just a sip to start. Her head rested against theirs for support, her legs feeling a bit weak. She swallowed it, with a bit of it dripping down her chin slowly. It burnt her throat a little but by this time, all the drinks went down rather softly. The taste of the smooth liquid as it went down her throat made her think, savoring the taste. Contemplating, her slightly bared claws tapped against the glass cup, the clear liquid sloshing around softly.
“I still liked the other one better,” she stated, plainly. Her usually monotonous voice, changed slightly from the alcohol, sounded nice to Lamb. It had a bit more emotion compared to her usual dead-pan self.
“Is that so?” they cocked their head to the side slightly, “I would drink more with you, but I’m out of ambrosia.” They were, of course, lying through their teeth. They were awfully good at that after thousands of years of donning the same facade.
“Do the mortal ones even taste good for you?” she asked. It seemed she was having a bit of a hard time piecing her words together, her voice a bit slurred. Lamb’s thumb swiped across her chin, gathering the liquid from her fur, and they licked their thumb. They ignored her question accidentally, but she was too frazzled to notice. “Gross.”
“You’re the who’s gross,” Lamb argued, “you’re getting it on your face.” They laughed and Narinder smiled softly, blushing a bit. She really liked that sound.
“I wanna cut your pretty little head off and mount it on my wall,” Narinder said. She was trying to flirt.
“Hells below, is that a threat?” Lamb asked, but their heart had skipped a beat. She really was pathetic. Narinder shook her head no, laughing a bit. She was thankful her dark fur covered her blush. She was suppressing her smile slightly, a fang sticking out a bit.
“I’m trying to compliment you,” she said, sighing. Her drink was more than halfway done. Lamb eyed her drink before laughing a bit.
“That’s terrible! Here, let me try,” Lamb said, teasing her. They cleared their throat, thinking. They stood on their tip toes and gently tugged Narinder by her collar with one hand. Their free hand went to cup her face, their thumb softly dragging against the continuous line where her face had split open. “When we were fighting like that, I never thought you looked any less perfect. Your eyes were like the night sky.” It was corny but they did mean it. They blushed a bit, embarrassed. Narinder’s tail whipped slowly, finding its way to their ankle again, hooking around it. She would be purring and rubbing her face against them if they weren’t in public currently. She downed the last of her drink, as a form of liquid courage. As a sort of compromise with herself, Narinder’s tongue came to Lamb’s face, licking their skin. Lamb hissed out a laugh; her tongue hurt. Lamb rubbed her saliva off their face, noticing that her drink was empty. “Oh, do you wanna try the eggnog now?”
The tip of her tongue momentarily peeked out of her mouth, the muscles of her mouth relaxed. It took her a second to process the question, her pupils dilated. “I don’t know, Lamb,” she answered. Lamb looked down slightly, pouting at her with their hands clasped together, as they batted their eyelashes at her with their big, round eyes.
“Please, Rin?” they begged. The nickname stirred up something inside of her. “I just want you to try all the drink house has to offer. You were chained up for centuries and now you can get your fill. Plus, I wanna know which is your favorite over all.” They were begging in a cute, sweet voice. Narinder loved it. She sighed loudly for show before nodding. Happy, Lamb gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. It made her mind race with giddy thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she had a heart now, but if she did, it surely would be beating rather fast. They held onto her hand, their fingers interlocked, as they waited for her drink to get served. Their thumb lovingly rubbed against her. When the drink was ready, Lamb grabbed it with their free hand before releasing their other hand from her grasp, turning to face her.
“Are you excited for this one?” they asked, teasing. With the smile they had, Narinder figured they were more hyped up than she was.
“Sure, Lamb,” she agreed, laughing softly, taking hold of it before taking a sip. Her first thought was how thick it was. The creaminess wasn’t something she was used to. Nor the spice. Nor the egg taste. Swallowing hard, she shook her head before frowning. “I hate it,” she exclaimed, as if it wasn’t obvious enough from her reaction. If she wasn’t already having stomach issues from the poison, surely she’d get it from this disgusting concoction.
“Aw, really? It can’t be that bad. A lot of my flock like it,” they commented. They were trying to encourage her to keep drinking it. Narinder hummed softly, thinking.
“I’m not a normal member of your flock, I’m your God,” she argued. In her own way, she was just as possessive as Lamb as they were of her. Their eyes shined brightly at this statement.
“Mhm, and as my God, surely you won’t be wasteful?” Lamb challenged.
“This is beneath me, Lamb,” Narinder groaned. They laughed.
Narinder sipped on the drink to protect her pride. It was disgusting but she did it to please them. Everything lately, she thought, has been done to please you. She felt anxious around Lamb a lot, a bit scared of them. They had their ups and downs, and they were in a down portion before these rituals. But when they were good, they were so good. She knew very early on she had always liked them, like a moth to a flame. Death called and Lamb would answer. Ever since she was freed, however, she was often smothered with their affection. It made her feel suffocated and lonely. But when they were normal, like this, she loved it. She was head over heels for them when she wasn’t being treated as one of their flock to control. She wished they were like this more; she also wished they were nicer to her more. She wished they didn’t scare her and she’d get an icky feeling in her stomach when she thought about them too much. She wished they’d love her like normal.
The combination of alcohol and poison was really ruining Narinder. She successfully drank the gin and eggnog, which delighted Lamb. She put up a lot of resistance at first, but with a few sweet words, Lamb was able to make her drink the rest. When all was said and done, Lamb already had her securely in their grasp. Six drinks was too much, though. Maybe Lamb pushed her too far. They felt a bit bad. Narinder made her unpleasant feelings evident by letting her back press against the wall, her balance wobbly. Everything was a bit slowed down for her. Her head felt funny and it felt weird to move. The buzz was nice but she felt terrible. Although she was laughing and in a good mood at first, the poison slowly trickled through her body. Her giddiness was hindered by the intense pain that was filling her. She felt nauseous, like she was about to throw up, and ready to take a nap. Narinder, the agile, quick cat, was slow and her thoughts were sluggish. She hadn’t drank in centuries. Alcohol was not supposed to make her feel like this. Something was very wrong.
She blacked out at one point, now in the bathroom. Her knees pressed against the floor, cool tile pressing against her fur, and her hands were on top of the toilet seat, the lid up. She felt worse than before. She protested having Lamb by the stall, rubbing her back, a hiss leaving her throat. She was embarrassed, vulnerable and a sick mess. Lamb found her silly. They loved her like this, needy and dependent on them. It only made their God complex and obsession worse. Great plan,Lamb thought.
“Why am I here?” she slurred. Ichor slowly trickled down her third eye, her claws out.
“You told me you were going to throw up, so I brought you here. Is that okay?” Lamb asked and she nodded. With permission, Lamb removed her white robes, with her now only in her tunic. Narinder nodded her head again, slowly, though too many times. It was enough to make her growing nausea worse, as her mouth started salivating. She positioned her head above the toilet and heaved, the contents of her stomach beginning to spill out of her mouth, chunks of the fish she had stuck to her fur. Spit covered her chin and the seat, mainly liquid and bile coming out of her after the food stopped. She coughed and felt some pieces stuck in her throat, coughing more to dislodge them. She continued to heave, throwing up the alcohol, which burned and tasted disgusting. Her stomach hurt and she rubbed her ribs, sore from coughing. She tried not to throw up for a few more seconds, wiping away the spit, food, bile, and tears from her face. She continued catching her breath before more and more came out. She cried and whined and Lamb soothed her through it all the same, not disgusted at all. Her stomach began to feel hollow and she could physically feel her stomach getting smaller. She heaved and gagged until nothing came out anymore. Although it was over, the poisoning persisted. Narinder’s head felt terrible, like her skull was being split open. She trembled, on her knees, with her hands and legs shaking as she calmed down. Finally done, she wiped away the remaining tears and flushed the toilet. Her tail was a bit puffed up, wiping her tail fast. “Do you feel better now, my love?” Lamb asked sweetly.
“Fuck,” she drew out, “No, I feel worse.” She ignored the nickname. She’d prefer for them to flirt with her when her breath didn’t smell like vomit and she just emptied the contents of her stomach. She was shaking still, breathing hard. Lamb nodded their head, producing a glass bottle of water from the crown. Narinder drank it quickly before saying thank you. The water upset her empty stomach. “I think I have food poisoning,” she mumbled, rubbing her temples, “Take me to the healing bay?”
“Mm, it’s really loud and crowded out there, with the party and all. I’ll take you to my room and heal you myself,” Lamb argued. Narinder was too tired to protest. Thanks to years of woodwork and fighting, Lamb was strong enough to support Narinder’s weight, pulling her up. They made sure to stop by the healing bay, getting over-the-counter food poisoning medicine and plenty of camellias. If they were already there, Narinder didn’t see why they didn’t just stay in the healing bay. Using the crown to form a large hand, Lamb helped Narinder into their room at the top of the temple. Making Narinder sit up right, Lamb started by giving her more water. Lamb batted their eyelashes at her, mockingly, and Narinder would roll her eyes if she could. Ichor oozed down her third eye, which she wiped with her shirt. Her shirt rose and although she was now mortal, Lamb enjoyed the sight of their God’s stomach.
“Drink it slowly this time. You’ll hurt your stomach if you chug it,” Lamb cooed. Narinder listened, sipping slowly. After finishing a fourth of the water, Lamb let her get a bit more comfortable. She brushed her teeth well and lazily washed his face. It was hard for her to do, drowsy and in pain as she scrubbed her tongue. “Do you want me to bathe you, too?” Her tail puffed up at the thought, blushing. She spat the foam of the toothpaste into the sink, rinsing out her mouth with the water.
“Die.”
Once she was done, Lamb sat on the bed and motioned for her to do the same. Sluggishly, she walked, drunk, to the bed. Her head rested on Lamb’s head, despite their height difference. Lamb held a bowl of camellias in their hands, as well as medicine. She groaned and hissed when Lamb jokingly put one near her mouth, acting as if they’d force her to eat it. Lamb laughed, mashing the camellias into a paste lovingly. Despite being malicious, they were a good caretaker; yet, they would only do this for her. One spoonful at a time, Narinder chewed and swallowed the camellia paste. With her water, she took additional medicine, drinking it. She needed her inebriation to go down, but the meds unfortunately didn’t help with that; she’d have to let it ride its course. Lamb could meditate with her to make time pass by faster, but that didn’t seem like a helpful option. “Do you want me to hold you?” Do you want me to kill you again? she thought. Despite this, she nodded, shifting their bodies so they were laying down, with Narinder on top of Lamb.
“I love you,” they teased. In pain and confused, drowsy, Narinder groaned at the proclamation. Although they were soothingly rubbing her back, she moved away from them slightly, “Please let me say I love you.” Narinder felt like she was going to throw up again, not just from the liquor and being poisoned. Her head was spinning and ichor continue to ooze from her eyes. Her head was being split apart but yet, in this moment, she wanted to bang her head into a wall. This proclamation made her feel warm and yet a bit scared. It felt off. Was love supposed to feel scary?
“ . . . I think I love you, too,” Narinder whispered. At least, she thought this was what love was supposed to feel like. She blushed at the confession, though it was hard to tell with her dark fur. If she was sober and hadn’t just vomited, Lamb would kiss her then and there. Their heart was beating so very fast, to the point Lamb swore she could hear it. Their grip on her tunic tightened. Wrong answer.
“Yeah?” Lamb asked, so soft Narinder could barely hear it. They were scared to be any louder, as if that would drive her away. She hummed yes and Lamb’s fist bunched up the fabric of her tunic, their heart beat audible to Narinder. “Can I kiss you?” Lamb blurted out, stammering. Narinder nodded and Lamb almost died. Their heart was surely going to break through their ribcage. She was killing them and she didn’t even know it. Lamb exhaled shakily, the air catching in their lungs. They’d waited centuries for this. It was finally here. Lamb finally got their happy ending and although she hated them at first, here they were. Here they were, with her in their arms professing their love for each other. Lamb was so full of love and joy that they were overflowing; they needed to dispel their excess emotions with kissing. Narinder nuzzled her head further against Lamb’s chest, hyping herself up for it. Lamb waited, patient. In pain, unsure, confused, Narinder rose her head up. Lamb smiled at her sweetly, their obsession with her evident in their eyes. It would be their first kiss together, first kiss in general, and Lamb was ecstatic. Narinder’s head dipped down the side of the bed, throwing up again, before Lamb could kiss her.
⸻
After using the crown to clean the vomit up, Lamb sighed. What a way to ruin such a romantic moment. In case she threw up again, Lamb had her sit up, her back pressing against the bed. Lamb moved to get her more water and Narinder groaned, holding onto them by their cloak. “Stay, Lamb.” She only let go of their fleece when Lamb stayed in her arms. She was miserable, crying softly with a death grip on them. Given their size difference, Lamb felt she was going to crush them. She talked incoherently, about Lamb and her love for them and being usurped. Lamb listened patiently, letting themselves be held in her lap like a teddy bear. Although Lamb was bad at social things, they tried their hardest to comfort her. Their social battery was depleting and while they liked it at first, they were getting a bit upset she was so co-dependent on them. Isn’t that what they wanted, though?
“I think someone actually poisoned you,” Lamb stated, dumbly. That was obvious enough. Her delirious state was all that was needed to prove that. It was an admission of guilt, in their own way. They felt bad and regretted it a little. She choked out a laugh, continuing to cry and whine. Lamb felt a bit icky. Clingy. “Do you see why you can’t leave me?” She nodded her head fast, “You’re safe here, with me.”
“’M sorry for ever wanting to leave,” she apologized. The words she spoke burned into Lamb’s mind and they were so happy to hear this. Nana had given her five times the lethal dose of menticide mushrooms. Of course, she would need Lamb’s helped. She’d always need their help. She was beginning to see that now. They were both immortal and she’d be with them forever. Maybe it wasn’t as scary as she thought.
“My Lamb!” Nana called out. Her voice could be heard in the lower part of the temple. It snapped Lamb into focus, They wanted to ignore it, but she was persistent. “Leader?” she called out again. Narinder moved a bit, the volume and urgency of her voice stirring her, and Lamb was about ready to kill her.
“Nari,” Lamb started, talking soothingly, “I’m going to see what that’s about, okay?” It was more of a statement, not a request. Narinder protested, holding onto them tighter. Lamb had to peel themselves out of her grasp. While they loved the closeness, they did have to see what Nana needed. Once on the floor of the temple, it was obvious Lamb had a bit of an attitude, annoyance obvious in the way they carried themselves. “What is it, Nana? What’s so important you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell me? You know I’m taking care of Narinder right now,” they barked out. Nana looked nervous and a bit afraid. The look on her face was starting to piss them off. “What?” they repeated, much more urgent. It was a tone Lamb had never taken with her, nor dissenters. It was more akin to the heretics who begged for their lives.
She was losing confidence in what she had to say. While she justified her actions as okay, it continued to eat at her as the time went on. Her morality struggled to adhere to the white lies and rationalizations she fed herself. As the night went on, with Narinder vulnerable in their grasp, her mind was spinning. She had done something wrong, terribly wrong, that she couldn’t take back. Anxiety pooled in her stomach, making her feel warm and uncomfortable. She hurt someone she loved. She broke her trust. She had to come clean. Taking a deep breath to calm herself from crying, she spoke, “We need to tell Narinder what we did.”
They could feel themselves slipping.
It wasn’t a statement nor a suggestion. Rather, it was a command. A command from the lowly mortal that Lamb had saved all those centuries away. Then, Lamb wanted to abandon her and leave her to die. If the crown wasn’t manipulating their thoughts, they surely would’ve done so. Present day, they were annoyed to see this fold out today. If only you were dead, they wished. Nana had been a slight nuisance to Lamb for all these years. Now, she was seriously proving herself as a proper threat. Her words, combined with their low social battery, and Narinder’s clinginess shifted Lamb’s mind into something dark, a dark part of themselves that came out only when threatened. Nana saw the darkness in their eyes, like two tar pits ready to swallow her whole.
“What?” Lamb asked, laughing a bit at the absurdity of it all.
They were losing it.
“We’re friends now, Lamb! She won’t hurt you again,” she argued. Oh, right! Their whole justification for poisoning her was in case he attacked Lamb again. “You’re taking care of her, as well. What’s the point if she’s dangerous?” Lamb’s hooves audibly scratched against the wood of the temple, moving closer to her. She made a hesitant glance to the floor, then the space between them.
Unwinding.
“Have you no faith in your God?” they asked. They made direct eye contact with her. They tried smiling to reassure her, but it only made her more uncomfortable. She shook her head no, hesitantly. The fear in her eyes was visible as they stepped closer.
Breaking.
“You insolent, foolish, stupid rabbit ⸺” Lamb growled, a sound unlike the prey who said it. There was a tight coil building up inside of them, a dangerous one. It was akin to a bomb going off.
It kept unwinding and unwinding until it finally snapped.
Her fur, a soft purple, was quickly covered by white wool. Their hands were at her neck, using the power of the crown to raise her up. Her eyes were full of fear and tears, with the crown acting as an extension of their hand, choking her. They needed to kill her. They had a mantra of killing her going through their head. Their eyes looked dim, dissociating as they held her. They’d choked heretics to death before, but this felt a lot more personal. It was a sense of intimacy they found themselves enjoying. Their first follower, her crush on them, her centuries of devotion, their first disciple. She gurgled and choked out coughs, gasping for air. Her hands went to Lamb’s wrists, scratching them. She continued dragging her nails against their skin until the skin broke. After centuries of fighting, this did nothing to deter them. It only encouraged them to continue. Lamb would kill anyone who got in the way of their happy ending. Warm blood trailed down their arm and they failed to notice. She clawed desperately at their wrists, spots clouding her vision as she lost air. They could feel her pulse weakening.
She was dying. She was going to die, at the hand’s of her cult leader. She considered them friends and even wanted to be closer. She always knew there was a darkness inside of them, something she tried to excuse. Anyone would be a little unhinged if their species went extinct, if they were part of a prophecy, if their will wasn’t their own. Now, she saw them for what they truly were and it was terrifying. She had felt guilty for hurting Narinder and she believed this was her punishment. Narinder was a true friend of hers, also under the manipulation of Lamb, and she backstabbed her. Her breathing was shaky. Her lungs burned and she heaved. The gargling noises she made hurt their ears. Nana’s choked words of “please stop” and “Lamb” were broken, chopped up and distorted. Her grip on their wrists was loosening. Lamb had forgotten how long it actually took to choke someone, as well as the energy it took. Thankfully, they were strong, or else their arms would hurt from the straining. Her eyes were fluttering closed, her head tilting back slightly.
Chapter Summary: Lamb’s relationship with Narinder has mended slightly, though it’s not enough for them. Narinder needs to realize she needs Lamb, that only Lamb loves her, and that Lamb will always be there to care for her. Lamb knows the perfect way for her to realize this.
Author’s Note: credit to @maibel-mai for inspiring me to make this fic & giving me permission to post this! this fic is also cross-posted on AO3.
Satisfied with the events of today, Lamb returned to their room. They wondered why Narinder was so different, compared to her usual, hostile self. She hissed, seemed annoyed, and got grossed out, sure. But she still let Lamb get all close and personal. Lamb knew she was starved for affection and used that to their advantage. A few gifts really was all it took for her to trust them slightly. Lamb still felt betrayed and was sure Narinder did too. Although they hoped for them to have a relationship of pure love, they were content with one built off of distrust and fear too. It’s better to be feared, than loved.
Lamb didn’t dream often. But when they did, it was a tossup between nightmares and pleasant dreams fueled by their delusions. By the looks of it, it was a nice dream. They were in her domain again. Lamb possessed no fangs nor different horns. They were held in Narinder’s hand. It wasn’t the usual position of them delicately in her palm. Rather, Narinder’s hand wrapped around their torso, the way someone would hold a doll as they played with it. Lamb noticed Narinder was wearing the red crown and she had an emotionless look on her face. Her face was mainly covered by her veil, cloaking her features in a dark shadow. Her thumb grazed against Lamb’s wool before going down to their neck. Lamb felt uneasy, but was reassured by the feeling of their wool being pet. Her finger scratched against Lamb’s face, cutting them. Suddenly, her claw was bared and it punctured Lamb in the throat. Terrified, Lamb felt blood filling up their lungs. It trailed down their mouth and stained their teeth as they coughed and gurgled. They were dying. They were going to die to the hands of the one they loved most.
“My Lamb, please wake up!” a voice called out. Lamb awoke from the sensation of someone grabbing them and speaking. Their words weren’t being processed right away and Lamb blinked away tears. “It’s okay, you’re safe,” they spoke. Lamb’s eyes focused on their disciple, Nana, their pupils wide. They ripped their hands away from her grasp. Her words of reassurance were cut off with a hand to her neck, pressing against her windpipe.
Lamb felt too exposed. Their collar wasn’t on, showing the scar across their neck. The red crown was resting on their bed and they were only in a tunic. The nightmare felt so real. With their free hand, it ran against their cheek to confirm they weren’t cut. Too mortal and vulnerable, displaying a sight reserved only for their beloved. It disgusted Lamb. “Why are you here?” they growled. Disciples were allowed in their room only when Lamb was in danger, a precaution set by the crown. Nana’s eyes were wide with shock and she was quiet, stunned. “Answer me!” Her eyes looked down, afraid.
“I heard you screaming,” she answered.
“Do you think I needed help? A God, such as I? A mortal cannot comprehend my struggles,” they hissed. Lamb finally let go and strained, Nana said she was sorry in between coughs. She didn’t know Lamb was capable of that. It terrified her. She was rambling out apologies. Lamb was quick to put their collar and fleece on, ignoring her talk. They paused, blood on their fingers and neck. They were scratching themselves in their sleep. Their mind catching up with them, they quickly turned to Nana. Lamb smiled at her, as sweetly as they could, and helped her compose herself. “It was a reflex. Please try not to get wrapped up in it or something like this might happen again. I’d never wish to hurt you, my most devoted follower.” Even when showing their true colors, Nana was still devoted and as loyal as ever. She nodded and smiled weakly, bowing her head before leaving. Although she loved her leader, she needed time away from them, which was fine by Lamb. The God grew tired when faced with mortals and this day marked the time Lamb’s mask was discarded.
⸻
After holding the daily sermon, Narinder had approached Lamb. She seemed to have a lot on her mind, so Lamb opted out of teasing her like usual. Her mouth was pressed in a firm line and her eyes looked tired. While part of Narinder was starved for affection, she was still upset with Lamb. She let her emotions get the best of her the last few days and she needed to put a stop to it. She was a bit worried with how easily Lamb was able to make her vulnerable. Although she was nervous, she repeated her mantra as she approached her usurper. “Yes, Narinder?” Lamb asked. Their head cocked to the side slightly, a small smile on their face. It wasn’t often Narinder approached Lamb without purpose and they were curious, if not a bit concerned. That smile made her rethink her options for a moment, though she persisted. Narinder couldn’t let them keep ignoring her boundaries. She needed space, though she found it difficult to voice this.
“Don’t call me that,” she started. Her eyes narrowed at Lamb and when they made eye contact, her gaze hardened, “Lamb, if I were to leave, would you go back to doing the sermons yourself? Rather, will one of your disciples do it?” Lamb’s chest tightened. It seemed like such a casual question to throw around. Maybe they were moving things too fast, pushing her too far. With Narinder finally in their control, they couldn’t let her slip away now.
“You can’t!” they strained. Their voice was coarse with desperation and longing. It was a tone that startled Narinder and made her ears pin to the back of her head. Lamb’s eyebrows were turned down as they frowned. Narinder’s tail swished slightly, thumping against the grass. “Who knows what the Lands of the Old Faith are like now? It’s dangerous.”
“You seem to forget I’m a God, Lamb,” she refuted.
“No, you’re not a God anymore. I defeated you. It’s too dangerous out there. What will you do without -” Without me? My love, my protection? Lamb hesitated, the words on the tip of their tongue. “- food, shelter, water? It’s all ruins now. Heretics would kill to get a piece of you! You’re safer here, with me.” Lamb’s hand went to their chest, gesturing. They were terrified. As much as they disliked it, Narinder still had some resistance within her. The feline was obviously irritated. They were making her feel incompetent.
“You stole my Godhood from me. The only rightful owner of the crown is me. It’s not like I’m much help, anyways . . . I believe you enjoy tormenting me by keeping me here,” she scoffed. Her hands twitched slightly, snapping her fingers from her nervous tics. They weren’t exactly arguing, but it was quickly unraveling into that. “You’re cruel. I’d prefer to live in the unknown than to stay here with you.” The cat was hissing, her claws itching to scratch something. Lamb’s heart was thumping in their chest.
“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want, Narinder, but I’d like to change you mind. Although we both feel betrayed, we were friends before and I still care for you. You’re everything dear to me, my favorite,” Lamb explained. There was urgency and pleading in their tone. Tears were forming in their eyes and they gripped their cloak with their fist. Narinder hated their words, their tone, their expression. Lamb had often told Narinder how much she meant to them and because of how often Lamb called her their favorite, she got used to it. It felt nice to be appreciated, after all. She told herself that regardless of how she felt for them, she had to leave. She needed her freedom. She was no longer chained and while she still held feelings for them, she was scared of them. It was too soon. Narinder thought it’d take decades for her to get over their betrayal, even more so to pursue a romantic relationship. Things couldn’t go back to the way they were before. Their trust in each other was too shattered and skittish and plagued with confusing feelings, Narinder wasn’t in the proper place to date. If only she really knew of how Lamb wasn’t in their right mind, surely not able to hold a healthy relationship either. She was tormented and a little scared of them. They made her uneasy with their sickly sweetness sometimes, an uncomfortable feeling worming its way under her skin. Despite this, she hated seeing Lamb like this. She was weak to this facade of Lamb’s sadness. Truly, they were desperate, though they took advantage over how much Narinder cared for them. Her resolve was quickly crumbling.
She backed away slightly, her tail stopping its swaying. Overwhelmed with the sight, she looked at the grass. Narinder, despite not knowing how she was trapped in Lamb’s web of manipulation, continued to tell herself she was stronger than this. In the end, she was pathetic and weak. Maybe she did deserve to feel gross, if she liked these advances, despite them making her uncomfortable. “Fine,” she hissed out. It was a weak sound. Lamb was pleased that she backed off. They needed to continue to tear her down, stripping her of her independence and ability to address boundaries. The whole conversation tired the cat mentally. She had worked herself up all silly, just to get scared and back down. She felt like she was making a mistake. Her tone quickly softened. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Her voice was strained. Narinder felt guilty; it was dumb of her to bring this up. She wanted to say she’d rethink leaving, but the words stilled in her mind. Lamb nodded, smiling softly. They needed her to realize they were all she needed. She couldn’t live without them and Lamb was going to make her realize it, too.
There was a change within their precious leader. It was a slow trickle of change that people took a while to notice. When Lamb’s following came up to Lamb, expressing their love or compliments or concerns, Lamb’s answers were shorter. They lost their compassionate and soothing tone. Eventually, Lamb would walk away, rolling their eyes, when the conversations bore them. The sweet leader people once new was slowly fading away, and faith was going down. It wasn’t Lamb’s biggest concern, as the months continued to pass, their mind continued to be filled with just Narinder. They noticed her growing close to Nana. Their friendship annoyed them, much as how Narinder disliked Nana’s closeness with Lamb prior. Despite their jealousy, Lamb knew they could use this. Nana was Lamb’s best farmer and as friends, she tried introducing Narinder to it as well. It turned out the ex God of death didn’t have a green thumb. Who would’ve guessed? Lamb was delighted to see Narinder take up working in the lumberyard, just like Lamb used to. But those days were lost to the wind.
As Narinder saw Lamb approaching her, she continued to swing her axe, chopping up wood. Lamb wondered if she’d be nice to them today. They’d sometimes have calm moments as acquaintances before arguing and ruining their progress. Lamb had been busy gathering resources for a while. During these busy times, they ignored Narinder entirely. Narinder was confused and hurt by this. She figured it had to do with her suggesting she’d leave the cult grounds a few months ago. Things had been strained since them, with Lamb always going on crusades, with no time to talk as they gathered resources. Even when she approached them directly, she was meant with silence and a blank expression. She was being shut out and she hated it. Narinder didn’t like being ignored and this silent treatment was making her anxious.
“Fate, you may retire early today,” Lamb said. Narinder’s heart ached at the name. When she said people should call her that, she didn’t mean her Lamb, too.
“The day isn’t over yet, Lamb,” she pointed out, gingerly. Lamb nodded and smiled at her.
“Yes, but I have special plans for today. Would you accompany me to the temple?” They had a sweet smile on their face. Although Narinder could no longer read minds, she was sure she was being admired. She wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of their face. Either by kissing them or smacking them, she wasn’t sure. She wouldn’t be swayed so easily; she still had some fight left in her. After weeks of being shut out, this was all they had to say to her? Not even an apology? She was relieved they were talking again and Narinder wanted to yell at them and beg for their forgiveness. Disappointment sunk into her at their words.
“Are you asking me to hold a sermon on your behalf again?” Lamb’s hand gingerly grabbed her axe. Whatever affection Narinder held for them them weeks prior was gone, so Lamb was careful to not touch her directly. Her words sounded similar to what she’d said about leaving all those weeks ago and it made Lamb’s chest ache. Sermons were a touchy subject now. Narinder was scared to set them off again, not wanting to be brushed aside for days on end, so she tried to be extra sweet with her lamb.
“Please, just follow me.” They quickly learned Narinder felt guilty when upsetting them. Their soft voice weakened her resolve and she found herself following them to the temple. She sighed. Narinder thought she had more self respect than that. Like a well trained dog, she stood at the altar, waiting for followers to trickle in through the doors at the chimes of the bell. The cat was surprised to see Lamb move her aside, taking center stage in front of the altar. To move her, their hand pushed at her arm softly. It was a casual touch of familiarity that made Narinder both happy and a bit upset. She hated physical touch, sensitive to sensory after her centuries of isolation. She didn’t give it much thought, though, as Lamb was quick to start their speech. “My faithful, you may wonder why my favorite cat, Fate, isn’t holding this meeting today.” Again, with the wrong name and excessive praise. Narinder’s head tilted to the side slightly, listening. She wondered if they were aware of what they were doing and grew a bit tired. “That’s because today is a special day. While many of you were weary at first, concerned for my safety ⸺ which I greatly appreciated ⸺ Fate is now very accustomed to our cult,” Lamb was lying through their teeth. They were very close to snapping at their flock, saying they were crossing a line, concerning themselves with who they associated with, “I’d like to celebrate that, as she’s very dear to me. A bonfire ritual will soon be held, as well as a feast, and the drink house will open as well. I understand some of you have been questioning me and I hope to reassure these worries. Please, my faithful, enjoy this day.” Lamb smiled warmly, their hand gently at their chest. Animals cooed and awed at this news.
In truth, the faith of the cult had lowered a bit. Before, Lamb was an amazing leader and faith was always high. Now, they seemed to be a bit uncaring and rude. Their facade was cracking and they cared too little to piece it back together. Lamb felt the warmth of their devotion form as they took it in. It was stronger than usual, the flock relieved their leader was being kind once more, and their followers watched happily as they collected their devotion. Their hooves met the ground when it was done and they blinked rapidly to regain sight. The book on the altar, pages fluttering as they floated, shut quickly. The bonfire ritual had began. Followers who worked in the lumberyard and construction gathered around the lush grass outside. Retrieving bundles of wood and sticks from the crown’s storage, Lamb set the supplies down. As these workers and their family had been partaking in this ritual for generations, they made quick work of it.
Lamb swallowed their pride and decided to help, as well. Their job was collecting wood years ago. It was something Narinder dwelled on but Lamb put little thought into. They wanted to appear humble and thoughtful to help construct the bonfire in front of Nari. They were focused on using the crown, as well as their hands, to help. Lamb looked concentrated and so mortal to Narinder; it was charming. It warmed her heart to see them look normal. This was the Lamb she loved. She wondered how such a cute looking lamb could end up being so twisted and hungry for blood. Though Narinder wouldn’t say it aloud, for the last sheep alive, they were cute. At first, at least. When they looked her, like they could see right through her, they were conventionally attractive, but it made Nari uncomfortable. She hated that despite all the betrayal and hurt she’d been through, she still found them attractive. This was a thought she turned around in her head, blushing a bit and whipping her tail, as the bonfire was built. The structure was like that of any other, with a cone shape taking up the base. Two wooden poles, connected to the base for support, had a red, triangle garland tied to both poles as decor. It was cute in an unsettling way. Crosses made of sticks were also shown, as well as a horizontal, long piece of wood at the top of the base, with the crown made out of wood sitting at the top. It was rather large and Lamb looked so small next to it.
With the fire lit, it lapped at the wood, spreading rapidly. Excited, followers danced happily around it, Narinder included. However, she was a bit shy and awkward. As they danced, it gathered devotion. Before Lamb floated in the air, they grabbed onto Narinder, interlocking her fingers with theirs. Narinder was startled. It had been a log time since she was able to float. At the sight of this, the devotion grew stronger. Lamb chanted ancient words, words that Narinder knew all too well, as they smiled at her softly. Blood ran from their eyes, dripping down onto their face. To the cultists, the face Lamb made was off-putting. It was creepy yet it made Narinder’s heart beat faster regardless. Despite herself, she was smiling. When the dancing and chanting concluded, the two stopped floating. Being a cat, Narinder landed on her feet with Lamb still in her hold. It was romantic, like it was only the two of them, and she wished it had lasted longer. They smiled at her brightly before the flock went back inside the temple. She found herself missing their closeness. Her skin was burning with their touch lingering.
Lamb reopened the book and spoke ancient words to start the feasting ritual. Narinder’s mind was lagging behind the display before her. Followers looked at the black cat, waiting for her reaction. With eyes upon her, Narinder’s face grew hot. Although she wasn’t actively attacking Lamb anymore, this felt like too much, an overreaction for something so trivial. Nari felt backed into a corner but with all eyes on her, she strained a slight smile. Lamb went through a lot of work for this, after all. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Her social battery was lowering, especially after dancing by the bonfire, and there was still another event left after this. She had to persevere.
A grand table was set, longer than it was wide, for Lamb’s flock to sit at as well. Chefs began to set the table with food, while Lamb’s disciples set the chairs. As a centerpiece, a three candle candelabra was set in the center of the table. Still overwhelmed and embarrassed, Narinder stood aside as the ritual was being prepared. Lamb watched happily, their hands clasped together behind their back. When she made eye contact with them, they gave her a sweet smile in return. Her walls were breaking and Narinder found herself admiring them. For decades, she’d been deprived of her needs. Food, water, sleep, entertainment. Being forced to confront it all over again hurt her head and she felt her social battery plummeting. If Lamb had bothered her enough, she would’ve gone for a bit. She didn’t see why, exactly, the day had to be about her. A swirl of conflicting emotions was rising up inside of her. To be worshipped and praised, similar to when she was still a Bishop, stirred happiness inside her. However, being reduced to a mortal without her powers, acting as Lamb’s disciple rather than the other way around, left her feeling upset. It was supposed to be a thoughtful display of affection, though to the feline, it felt off. Surrounded by almost three hundred other followers didn’t leave much time for her to piece together her emotions.
Meat and fish acted as the main course, Narinder assumed, from the smell of everything. Disciples worked quick to set the chairs, and the sheep gestured for Narinder to sit by them. She sensed no hostility in their actions, so she obeyed; Lamb was pleased to see this. The chefs had worked hard to prepare the food beforehand, though the chefs weren’t bringing out the food. The cat tilted her head slightly, but brushed it off; the chefs were most likely busy plating the rest of it. Nana came over, Lamb’s plate in her paw. She bowed her head at her leader, giving a polite “enjoy” before moving back to the kitchen. Narinder’s plate was next. With her free hand, she rested her paw against the back of her chair when she leaned over her to serve her plate. It was a friendly gesture and she smiled softly when they made eye contact. Again, a word of endearment left her mouth. As she moved away, passing by her leader as she went, Narinder failed to notice the look Lamb gave her. Although she was hungry, she only stared at her plate, anxious. The flock at the table were thanking their leader and the chefs alike for this occasion. She was never a social creature and she found herself strained.
“Is the food not to your liking, Narinder?” Lamb asked. Their tone was soft, words meant only for her to hear. Hearing her name elicited a soft trill from the cat. Surprised by the sound, Lamb’s eyes softened and they smiled slightly. The tip of her tail flicked against the ground, before taking hold, wrapped around Lamb’s ankle.
“No, not at all. Just waiting for you to start, first,” the cat explained. Lamb nodded. Although deranged, they felt embarrassed making eye contact with her while they ate, chewing on a grape. Swallowing and beginning to cut their meat, Nari followed. Watching from the corner of their eye, Narinder took a bite of her fish. It tasted delicious and she made a soft meow as she ate it. It reminded Lamb of a domesticated cat and it melted their heart. Scent marking them, trilling, meowing. It was all so cute. Lamb wanted to pop Narinder like a grape. “This tastes good, Lamb,” Narinder commented. She was trying to make conversation and be polite. When she was a God, she was a woman of few words. Lamb could see why, now. She was antisocial, much like how Lamb was dumb socially. Her words were forced, especially in front of them.
“I’ll tell Nana you enjoyed it, then,” Lamb responded. They stopped cutting their meat, putting a piece in their mouth. Narinder was trying hard not to stare at their lips and think about kissing them. Partially because it disgusted her, partially because it’s what she wanted most. At the mention of her name, Nana’s ears perked up a bit. She flashed a soft, friendly smile to the two before continuing to eat her own meal. She seemed a bit uneasy but Narinder took it as today being a stressful day for the disciples. When she was still known as “The One Who Waits,” Lamb never did multiple rituals in one day; the faith was never low enough to do so. Today was important, they said. Was it truly for Narinder, or an act to keep faith high? Feeling remnants of her Godly power, she could tell the faith was high in the air.
It truly was a nice dinner. Lamb talked little, letting Narinder enjoy her meal and eat all of it. They continued to pick off grapes from the display, before all that was left was a few on a bunch. Narinder remembered that before, sheep could enjoy grapes now and again. She wished she was a grape so bad. While Narinder gave the food high regards, it did taste a bit funny to her. Must’ve been the oil Nana used to cook or something, she thought. The cat slowed down on her eating, swallowing the last bit of fish she thoroughly enjoyed before Lamb opened the drink house.
Lamb wondered if ambrosia would kill her. If it did, they would just revive her. “You can’t drink on an empty stomach. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Lamb teased. Their hand, testing the waters, rested on hers softly for a few seconds. Narinder let them. “Are you ready to drink?” Narinder shook her head.
“I haven’t in thousands of years, Lamb. You’re aware of that,” she explained, hesitant.
Her stomach was beginning to hurt slightly.
“In case she ever tries hurting me again,” Lamb had rationalized to Nana earlier, “Of course we have to poison her; she’s a threat. You’d never doubt me, right?” Their words were honey sweet, using her crush on them against her. Her ears bent down, she nodded her head softly, sighing. It hurt her to poison Narinder and use her trust in her against her. However, she did whatever she could to please her leader. She was afraid to see what would happen if she chose not to.
“It’s okay, I’ll even drink with you,” Lamb reassured, again resting their hand on top of hers. They gave her paw a light squeeze, her claws poking out slightly from the pressure on her front paw joints. Her dew claw scrapped against the table gently before Lamb let go of her paw.
“Gods can’t drunk on mortal alcohol, Lamb,” Narinder argued. The tip of her tail whipped slightly, intrigued. Despite her curiosity, the pain in her stomach was starting to worsen. She felt a bit dizzy, too. The food may have been cooked wrong; Nana may not have been a great chef to begin with.
“They don’t know that. Besides, I have ambrosia,” Lamb retorted, pressing a finger to their lips and winking. “Nana is drinking, too, if that helps you feel better.” It did. Nana waved with her free hand, the other paw now holding a fruity cocktail with a straw. Giving into peer pressure, Narinder agreed to drink. Lamb walked with her to the drink house. Although the fruit elixir was deceptively cute, it was a strong beverage.
Sipping from the straw, Narinder laughed softly, watching Lamb take a swig from their bottle of ambrosia, produced from the crown’s storage. “Be careful drinking that, my Lamb. It’s strong,” Nari warned. Lamb smiled at the name. It wasn’t how the followers meant it; Narinder meant it in a possessive way and Lamb knew that. To provoke her, they began to drink more, a bit quicker this time.
“What a foolish God you are,” Narinder teased. She was nursing her own drink, her vision a bit blurred. The alcohol must’ve put her in a good mood, Lamb thought. Both their drinks were about halfway done. Lamb ordered another one for Narinder, a beer this time, and a bit surprised, she thanked them. Having been unable to drink for thousands of years, Narinder was perhaps a lightweight. They’d be proven correct on this assumption shortly. Ambrosia was strong and Lamb didn’t follow Narinder’s advice. Feeling a bit sick, Narinder wrote it off as the alcohol affecting her. They were both beginning to get tipsy.
“What a fool I am indeed,” Lamb agreed, not wanting to ruin the moment. Narinder’s temperature was going up and chills ran through her body. It had been so long since she drank, she forgot if this was normal or not. Lamb offered the ambrosia to Narinder, and her mind lagging a bit, she stared at the dark liquid, enclosed in the bottle for a bit. Then, their drinks clinked together, before both of them took a long drink from their respective beverages. Narinder successfully finished her fruit elixir and Lamb, their first bottle of ambrosia. They produced another one from their crown’s storage, uncorking it quickly. Narinder felt a headache forming. Although she wanted to be nice to Lamb, she felt herself growing a bit irritable.
“I liked the other one more,” she mumbled. Her brain was slowly chugging along and she was confused to find the beer still in her hand. To be polite, she drank from it as well, wiping the foam away. Lamb laughed a bit. Rude.
“I’ll take note of that for the next time,” Lamb said, smiling. They were both two drinks in now. A bit tipsier than earlier. Narinder ignored the gross feelings her body was feeling. She didn’t want to ruin this. They went through all this trouble and she felt pressured to stay until Lamb dismissed her. “Are you a lightweight, Nari?” they teased. A bit sluggish, she shook her head no and laughed. She was laughing too much, like Lamb had said an amazing joke. Her laughter made Lamb begin to laugh as well, which made it worse for her. Taking a shaky drink of her beer, she realized she had finished it. She decided to stop for now.
“Funny that you’re teasing me. Ambrosia is strong,” she said. Lamb blinked at her. She had already said that. The alcohol and poison mixture may have been a bad idea. Perhaps Lamb should’ve stuck to just one or the other, not both. It was something they pondered. Lamb produced another bottle. This time, it was water the same color as ambrosia. They needed to sober up for their next stage to work. The plan was for Narinder to get sick and Lamb would nurse her back to health. It was a plan they orchestrated with the hesitant and remorseful bunny, Nana.
She was three drinks in now, this time some wine. It reminded her when her followers would give it to her as offerings. She rambled to Lamb about this and they keenly listened, drinking their dyed water. Despite trying to sober up, the drink of the Gods truly was stronger than they anticipated. Before they were sacrificed, they never got to experience being drunk. They were too busy working to provide for them family to indulge in such things. Perhaps that was part of what shaped them into what they were today. Living a monotonous life, being in controlled by their parents, with a duty to provide for their family, made them have control issues. It was nothing to give too much thought to, as their family was long since dead. Lamb couldn’t recall their names, faces, nor voices, even when they thought hard about it. It made them feel lonely. Having Narinder by Lamb’s side helped though. She truly was the answer to all their problems. Lamb wondered if she was aware of that. From their peripheral, Lamb watched as she drank her wine. Happy and a bit loopy, still in pain from the poison, she drowned the pain out with her wine. She was drinking so eagerly, Lamb was surprised they had to peer pressure her to begin with.
Lamb wasn’t holding up too well, either. Even with the water, it did little to curb the effects of the liquor. They were pleased to see Narinder enjoying herself so much, though. It was cute. Perhaps they should give her cat nip next. That reminded Lamb they needed to get some toys for her as well. It wasn’t something the other cats got the pleasure of having. No, Narinder was special. Their mind was going so fast, it was hard for them to truly understand what they were thinking. They wondered if Narinder would prefer string or a crinkle toy more. They thought of her loafing and making biscuits. They were cute thoughts that warmed their heart. They laughed softly at these thoughts, looking at Narinder with so much love in their heart. Narinder didn’t get it, but she trilled regardless. The side of her cheek went against theirs yet again. She was scent marking them again, a bit jealous of Nana. Could bunnies even tell if other animals were scent marked? Narinder didn’t know. Although Narinder was a demon, she was still a cat. A cat who was isolated from other animals, especially cats, besides Aym and Baal for thousands of years. It was something that made Lamb sad and it surprised them that they felt this way. They had very little empathy for others to begin with. But again, Nari was special.
She also looked a bit dumb drinking so much. So far, she had tried wine, a cocktail, and beer. She still needed to try gin and eggnog. Their goal was for her to try all of them proper drinks before the night ended.
“Do you think you can drink most of these? Or is that too much for you?” Lamb asked sweetly. They had an expectant look in their eyes that made Narinder want to make them proud. She nodded her head sluggishly, too slow and too many times. It made Lamb laugh. They were in a similar boat. Their head was spinning and they were trying to keep up with the fast world.
“I think so,” Narinder said, closing her eyes for a bit. She was getting sleepy. She had a headache and she felt too hot. Another chill went through her body. “But, Lamb, I don’t feel very well.”
“It’s just because you haven’t drank in so long,” Lamb lied.
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm,” they answered sweetly.
When Narinder slowed on her drinking, Lamb motioned for Nana to come over once more. She tried her best to mask her look of discomfort. Throughout the time Narinder and Lamb were drinking, she was steadily and slowly drinking her alcohol. She made sure to alternate with water, as well. She was certainly holding up better than either of them. Narinder was too drunk to fully process that she had been poisoned. Her mind was slow and she felt that the buzz made her sluggish in her thinking. She realized the pain she was feeling was too severe to be just from the alcohol, but she wanted to focus on just Lamb for right now. She felt rather affectionate and Lamb was happy to see this. When Lamb’s hand brushed against her paw, she let them hold hands. Although they had done it earlier, Narinder’s guard was down, so she let them do it longer.
Maybe Lamb giving her all this attention wasn’t so bad after all, she thought. Narinder was clueless to their continuous love bombing. It worked so well that when Lamb offered her more and more drinks, she let them.
petey the cat (dog man) and narinder (cult of the lamb) the two silly evil cats with familial problems that are misunderstood villains!
cotl has been my hyperfixation for around a year n a half! and dog man is a new hyperfixation of mine!! so i decided to draw them showing off their weapons :3c
