PINNED.
WIP blog for narinder of cult of the lamb. written by cat. sideblog to @wyrding; i will follow you back from there. affiliated with @sacrilamb. pages tba.
we're not kids anymore.

oozey mess
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
RMH
Monterey Bay Aquarium
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
NASA
Keni

Origami Around
d e v o n
todays bird
AnasAbdin
hello vonnie
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
KIROKAZE
occasionally subtle
ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
Stranger Things
styofa doing anything
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@sacricat-a
PINNED.
WIP blog for narinder of cult of the lamb. written by cat. sideblog to @wyrding; i will follow you back from there. affiliated with @sacrilamb. pages tba.
THE HUNGER IN YOUR BONES IS NEVER SILENT. THE BURNING IN YOUR VEINS ACHES ETERNAL.
narinder of cotl as freed by cat. / promo by @sacrilamb. art credit.
You have become FAMINE/WRATH: the hunger in your bones is never silent. The burning in your veins aches eternal.
ind. narinder of cult of the lamb. freed by cat.
art credit. / promo by @lamblood
DEAD BY DAYLIGHT AU.
an imprisoned god who's vessel ( @sacrilamb ) was stolen, narinder -- a jealous god -- found a way to force his own way into the entity's realm. assuming the role of a survivor in hopes of finding his loyal servant and getting them both out of there alive. upon entering the entity's realm, he finds himself stripped of his various magics, and forced to find another way out. no stranger to death, however, narinder is undeterred, and makes it his mission to find his vessel, and find a way to free them both.
PERKS.
patience: you are no stranger to waiting for the perfect opportunity. when the last generator is finished, or you are the last one standing, the first time you are to be put into the dying state, you may instead pass a difficult skill check to stun the killer for 2/3/4 seconds and gain a burst of speed. you are then exhausted for 60/45/30 seconds.
death's resilience. you have always been able to fend for yourself. when your allies are in the dying state or dead, the quieter you become and the less blood trails you leave. for each person dying or dead, your injured sounds are reduced and your pools of blood fade more quickly. when you are the last one standing, your sounds are reduced 95% and you leave no blood trail.
cat's agility. fighting back is in your nature, for you refuse to go down quietly. when you fast vault a window or pallet directly into the killer, they are stunned for 4/5/6 seconds. you then have the exhausted status effect for 60/45/30 seconds.
WHERE DOES YOUR POWER LIE?
the blood
oh it courses through you. your power is never outside of your periphery. it is always there, rushing and freezing and boiling. your strength is in how well you know yourself, and your abilities. you are acutely aware of your energy, and what bleeds you.
– Robert Bly
@sacrilamb said : ovtsa has offered a gift, a jar of strawberry jam, and a hand-sewn pair of fingerless gloves, with toe-beans that match narinder's. the two items are held together by a daisy-chain, double looped.
there is a little sound of surprise as the gift is offered: narinder, truthfully, hadn't been expecting any gift at all for this winter holiday. ( if one had asked him, he may have been so brave as to say that ovtsa's love and attention was more than enough of a gift for him. ) all the same, a small smile tugs at his lips, eyes brightening ever so slightly.
" ah, for me...? " he says, joy seeping unabashedly into his words. " thank you so very much, ovtsa. " he unwraps the daisy chain, then twists it around his arm ever so gently. the gloves are lifted, then he slides them onto his paws, flexing his fingers. " oh, these are lovely! "
leaning forward, narinder presses a kiss to ovtsa's cheek, smile still wide on his features. " i was...not expecting a gift, truly i did not need one, but these are perfect. you know me well. " a pause, then, a little sheepishly: " i did not manage to get you one in time. i apologize. "
* and, i am the devil that you forgot … !
( art credit . )
You have become FAMINE/WRATH: the hunger in your bones is never silent. The burning in your veins aches eternal.
ind. narinder of cult of the lamb. freed by cat.
art credit. / promo by @lamblood
winter festivities, a holy day, all swaying music and wafting smells of good food; these times were always ovtsa's favorite. a moment where she could forget, her past, her future, because all that mattered was the good times being had now. she giggles, dancing along with a few of her followers, exchanging partners, locking arms as they spun. ✝️
but, she can't help but notice the other, standing on the edge of the crowd, quickly, she makes up her mind. sidling up beside them, she intertwines their arms. ✝️
" come, come! dance with, will you not? " ✝️
standing by the side of the festivities, hands folded into his robe sleeves, narinder is a silent bystander to all the joy. the warmth in his eyes belies the quiet that hangs about him: seeing the dancing, the laughter, the food and the decor -- it warms his heart. all the liveliness, all the joy and smiles...the energy of the festivities warms his heart.
when ovtsa sidles up beside him, intertwining their arms, narinder looks down at her with mild surprise. " oh, hm--? " a small smile tugs at his lips, mirth filling his eyes. " a dance? " he asks, teasing lilt to his words. " my, you honour me, ovtsa. a dance with me? who am i to turn down our most glorious leader? "
WHAT ARE YOU SEEKING?
PEACE
"i survived because the fire in me burned brighter than the fire around me." // oh, little soldier, how long have you been at war with yourself? how much of yourself have you lost to the fire that's made its home in your heart? oh, but who can blame you? for as long as you can remember, you've had to face the world alone. all bared teeth and bloody knuckles. you learned young the only person you could rely on was yourself, didn't you? learned that the others would leave you to the wolves? and so you learned how to fight, how to stand tall even if you stood alone, how to shed the softness that wounded you before. but that isn't very sustainable, is it? the embers you swallowed, the fire you cloaked yourself in, it doesn't just burn the world around you. you have watched piece after piece of you go up in smoke: your hope, your smile, your mercy. what you seek is an end to the seemingly endless burning. and, little phoenix, you deserve it. please, breathe out. lean on me. the world isn't as cruel as you've made it out to be: it is okay to stop fighting. it is okay to let go of that anger. there is so much more to you, so much more that you have. the serenity you seek can be granted, but only once you are willing to work on letting go of the hate you've harbored for so long now.
i ripped the wings off of angels.
i ate their halos; i tore my throat ––
swallowed their holiness.
and yet: i am still hollow.
and yet: i still hunger.
i ripped the wings off of angels.
i became holy.
and yet: i am still a child.
and yet: i am still fearful.
–– –– outgrowing fear. cns // 16.10.18
part i. screaming, you are torn into being. desperate, you writhe all raw nerves and aching hunger. you are too big for your body, something terrible, something hungry.
part ii. wretched, you are: melting – aching –– (burning) formless and shapeless. raw nerves, spineless, everything ripped from you as you lose yourself. who – why – what (are you) creature unmade, forgotten / lost / unburied.
part iii. you burst forth. you are beautiful (and fleeting) –– arching towards the sun, you are terrible (and glorious). for momentary eternity you are –– you are –– you are ––
(fading.)
–– the life cycle of a butterfly. c.n.s // 15/04/20
*SHIP: I'LL TELL THEM MY RELIGIONS YOU! (NARILAMB) // @betrayedthem .
" when i was a child, i was given a knife. it was a most excellent gift. i still have it, actually. knives are child appropriate. "
@lamblood said : ovtsa is holding his face in her hands gently, thumb rubbing circles, she speaks quietly, " ...all you want is be loved, and that is okay. "
eyes widen ever so imperceptibly, emotion swelling in narinder’s chest. his throat tightens, and he finds himself choking back tears that rise unbidden to well in his eyes, blurring his vision. he blinks hard, willing them to not fall: how could such a simple phrase bring him, of all people, to tears?
simple: ovtsa saw him.
a shuddering breath is drawn, catching in his throat, and narinder closes his eyes. he tries to steady himself, tries to repress these emo- tions, but oh! how they swell in his chest, a tumultuous wave that threatens to drown him! he is at the mercy of this nameless feeling that drags him down, smothering him, its fist tight around heart and throat alike.
“ i… ” the single syllable is lost amongst the emotion, caught in his throat and tasting of salt. ovtsa is looking at him, and she is seeing him: she is seeing past the facade and bravado, past the anger, past the deeply-hidden fear, and seeing him at the core of his being. without him removing his walls, without him knowing removing his masks, she sees him, and it is terrifying.
terrifying, but also: oh, how strange to be seen by someone, and for them to gently cradle his face! how strange for them to see him, and now toss him aside with disgust! how strange for her to see him, to know him, and to say it is alright, i am here without speaking a single syllable.
narinder leans into the the touch, eyes closed, trying to calm himself. he feels so very exposed, for lack of a better word: he is raw, all nerve-endings and electricity, and if not for her touch, he fears he may fall apart complete- ly, shattering into a million little shards. he places a hand over hers, holding it in place, jaw working as he swallows hard.
his tail flicks as he searches for the correct words to say, how to tell her that she put into a single sentence what he has been trying to say his entire life.
i just want to be loved.
as a child, he wanted to scream it from the highest mountain. he wanted to be loved, he wanted to belong, he wanted to have a home! and for a while, he did —
( but the ache of the stones thrown at his back, the tearing of metal against his skin, the hollowness of being unwanted, of being a monster )
— but it wasn’t enough. he felt weak, he felt unwanted, even when he was worshiped by so many people. it wasn’t the same.
it wasn’t a home.
but here, here, his face cradled in her hands, thumb rubbing his fur, he feels safe. he feels whole. he feels seen. he feels safe, for the first time in...in millennia.
" thank you, " he finally says, voice choked with emotion. " thank you. thank you for– for saving me."
she can kick my ass. i like that in a woman.