Cotl Oc - Blog Posts

Little sketch with Springy and Kallamar. She's probably wagging her tail. :з

Even though she is his right-hand, sometimes Kallamar allows her to come closer to him. But this sketch is probably non-canon in my AU. I just love making cute stuff!

Springy again! Dunno what else I can tell you about her, I've lost all my thoughts when Good Omens trailer came out yesterday.

I'm sorry, I can't talk right now, I'm fangirling.

Translation:

Before meeting Kallamar.

tail

Kallamar's right-hand man.

That's where all this started... My first ever drawn art with Springy!

I think everyone know about amazing character.ai, where you can chat with any character you like, and I wasn't an exception. I found chat with Kallamar, and after like 3 or 5 minutes he said "Hmm, I don't really trust you, but will you be my right-hand man?". Amazing logic, thank you. You can already guess what I've answered. ;)

Aaaand that's how Springy was "born".

Another fact about her: all "small" characters in COTL have black eyes, Springy's are too, but actually they are blue, if you draw her in more realistic way! I once saw an akita with blue eyes (probably it was half-breed akita and husky), and so I decided to make Springy's eyes blue too (because I also have blue eyes (yep, small self-insert, don't judge me)).

Hey, Tumblr! Nice to finally see everyone. So, I was wondering - how and when I should start posting my arts? And so I decided "Today is the day!". Meet my OC from "Cult of the Lamb" - her name is Springy (just like my nickname here xd), and she's the right-hand man of Kallamar (thanks to character.ai, it was a really weird dialogue). She's an akita-inu. I decided to make her an akita, 'cause they're are really loyal and wayward dogs.

Enough information about her for today! See you next time, I promise I'll tell you more. ;3

little goopas [aka my cotl ocs]

old oc that i turned into a cotl oc :3

icky old drawing >:[

hey y'all >:) After seeing all of the cool cotl art on here, I decided to give it a go! This is my cotl lambsona Chili, he's a part of an AU me and my friend (@merecult) made called Salvation of Bloodshed!

I might get into more details about the AU later but for now lamb time :0

cotl oc lesbians?!?!

sal and cricket!!! love them

can't stop thinking about them ugh

sal the seal belongs to @7-ferrets-in-a-coat !!

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #4

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

Realizations - Narinder

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But looking back, all of his memories feel hazy.

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

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

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

Hurt.

And hurt made him angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Makes him want to clarify things.

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

Fates, he feels like a fool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Giving her a full view of his injuries.

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

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

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

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

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

Far less gentle than Lamb had been.

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

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

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

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

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

So he closes them again.

~~~

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

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

~~~

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

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

 ~~~

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything...

~~~

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

~~~

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

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

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

He has a tight hold on their fleece.

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he got the Red Crown.

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

No. Stay.

Please stay.

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

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

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

So how do either of them fix it?

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of the new God of Death...

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

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

Maybe I even would have...

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

He wants to be free.

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

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

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

Revenge became an... Added bonus.

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

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

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

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

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

And he is Sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A long. Long minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They rest their hands over their eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They too jump, head darting to look at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's thought about it. A lot.

Is still kind of thinking about it.

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

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

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

It makes his fur stand on end again in embarrassment.

Embarrassment that's all it is.

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

They notice his flinch.

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

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

It felt strangely right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut the fuck up-!!"

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption: Chapter #4 Preview

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

Realizations - Narinder

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But looking back, all of his memories feel hazy.

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

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

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

Hurt.

And hurt made him angry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

meet Phanes, the Bishop of Life, the Goat's world counterpart to Narinder! my friend @yourmajesty002 helped me name him and he is apart of me and @binxxu's lore for COTL :3 we are also planning on calling this "The Cursed Idol AU" because there is triple meanings behind the name that i will explain on a later past :D

lore WIP -> Phanes wanted to find a way to reverse death for his followers since he is called "He of Vitality", but the method he came up with, using his own ichor, corrupted them and gave them the "cursed" trait. The other bishops found out about this, sealed him away in the afterlife, and unlike Narinder, didn't get anyone as "gifts" for company, so he slowly went mad with the idea of making everyone immortal. A millennia later, there was a prophecy where a goat will become the downfall of the world, and so they had all goats executed, which leads the the Goat meeting Phanes and becoming his final vessel.

below the break is the uncensored version! its not BAD, but just in case someone's uncomfortable with it :3 CW: gore and bones

Animals sacrifices from around the world and through history for OC inspiration

Lines mean the number of times they were mentioned throughout cultures/beliefs.

My Lot

 Alright, this is a short story I wrote from a request I got from Discord. It is about an interaction between their OC and the whole Bishop gang, told from sort of the point of view of Heket. It is sort of a sweet story, well as sweet as I tend to make my stories but I am sure there is enough fluf and angst for both sides here.

Oh and as usual the Ao3 link is down there if you all wanna read it there. (:

It was a quick affair, a simple chant uttered before the knife met the flesh. Simple and efficient, a rush of faith and strength washing over before pooling over one’s core. Normally, not a single thing that should go wrong barring the odd last moment regrets or a particularly unwilling sacrifice causing a ruckus that would be dealt in but a moment.

Or it should have been but somehow, someway now they were stuck deciding what to do with a newborn rabbit.

Trying to dull out the absurdity of their situation she rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus on what was being said in front of her to take her attention away. As expected her siblings were talking endlessly about how to proceed without coming to a conclusion.

To think they came to this moment just because of a sacrifice their chaotic little brother chose from her lot, who happened to be pregnant. Then the said follower giving birth just before getting sacrificed instead of passing away with the child to save them the trouble.

Well At the very least the she rabbit had relented quickly and without causing further trouble she thought, which was probably the only silver lining to their current situation.

All these strange and totally not planned incidents led them to this very moment. Instead of attending to their lot and perhaps changing their bandages or really anything than to waste their time here. Instead they had to sit around and speak on a subject so benign it should be left for their respective witnesses to deal with it.

Groaning softly against her arm, she looked around lazily. She would curse at her once follower, but in all honestly their chaotic brother was more at blame for their predicament than the obedient but perhaps unwilling follower. The very same brother who was snickering as he was watching their siblings argue from the side.

If she could hear her own voice over the shouts coming from Kallamar arguing with their eldest, she would be giving the bush worm a piece of her mind. However, that would have to wait. For now.

With a sigh she once again tried to pay attention to their conversation.

A shrill voice belonging to Kallamar rang out ‘’I am telling you, this will not end well!’’ Rolling her eyes at their second youngest’s antics she focused on their eldest instead.

Running a claw over their face and with a much calmer but obviously strained voice Shamura spoke ‘’My venerable Brother, can you explain to us how an infant is to cause any harm to us?’’

Pointing at the infant in question who was currently babbling in her basket ‘’It is obviously going to try to hunt us down when it is older! Can't you see it?’’ Looking at the rabbit that was smaller than a single finger of her she normally would have laughed at the suggestion coming from their brother. How could a mortal even hope to do that? Alas, she couldn’t make her amusement known due to… the injuries.

Great she thought, now she was conscious about her throat on top of being bored out of her mind.

Lost in the thought and desperately trying to stop the creeping pain she almost couldn’t hear the cries coming from the newborn. It was shrill noise as expected, reverberating against the stone temple walls and echoing back to them.

She had to give it to her, she had good lungs, but yet it was rather futile. Desperately crying out for someone that could not come to her aid was just a waste of time. No use spilling tears when it got you no results.

Now only if their brother could figure that out she thought, now with a smirk she could almost ignore the continued wailing. Almost.

Looking at her siblings she didn’t see any reaction from any one of them at the sobs coming from the newborn. Kallamar was still complaining as he tended to, Shamura was still trying to speak some sense into him with limited success and Leshy was just being Leshy.

With a deeper than usual sigh she moved her hand to the infant. She did not know much about child rearing but she did know that she was probably just hungry. It was her domain afterall.

It didn’t take much of her power to satiate the little thing, but slightly more than she thought it should have been. Suddenly her smirk grew into a smile for some odd reason, and before she could stop herself words fell off her mouth ‘’Ravenous little thing ain’t you?’’

It was strange finding fondness in her own voice in that moment, then again anything but a raspy hoarse noise was hard to hear out of her these days.

Lost in thought she didn’t hear her siblings until she felt Shamura’s hand on her shoulder. It took her a moment to realize what was happening as she turned her head back to face their eldest. She was met with Their four eyes looking at her expectedly.

Her usual quite heart pounding in its place it took her a moment to get her senses back enough to ask them ‘’U-um yes my eldest?’’ Her words fumbled slightly as she tried to address them properly.

They sighed before retreating their claw back ‘’I had asked you your opinion on the matter’’ She blinked at his words, all four opening and closing blankly. Right, she was still here and was supposed to add her own opinion.

What could she even really add to the conversation though? She didn’t really share their brother’s ideas of sacrificing the newborn for some odd paranoid reason felt… cruel.

Which as strange as it sounded didn’t really sit well with her. Gathering her thoughts she spoke carefully ’’I suppose we can entrust her with another follower?’’ It made sense to her, why bother with all this talk instead of letting the little nuisance be taken care of instead.

They shook their heads slowly ‘’No, we cannot do that.’’ they continued after a pause ‘’The family that would receive the child would see it as a boon we are bestowing with at best, which would upset the rest of the followers or perhaps be seen as a burden we are punishing with.’’

Right she supposed she did not really think about that, meeting her sibling’s eyes ‘’I see’’

With a tinge of disappointment she could feel radiating out of her sibling ‘’Do please pay attention to our meetings sister’’ They looked back away from them as they added quietly ‘’it is unbecoming of you.’’

Looking away to hide her shame ‘’Of course Eldest’’ Looking around to see if anyone had seen their interaction she saw Leshy giggling off to the side. Clenching her fist against her robes under the table she uttered curses unheard by mortal ears, in languages long forgotten. That worm really deserved an earful.

But as it seemed their brother was not just content with being amused off to the side after his mischief, as suddenly his arm flew towards the newborn. Snatching the little thing in one fell swoop.

She felt her slow heart skip a beat as the youngest started  ‘’Look, the way I see it there is only one way around this’’ he begun to methodically throw the basket into the air and catching it in his hand, in way that would be playful if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying his sibling’s reaction rather than the ‘game’ he was playing with the newborn.

Clearing his throat ‘’None of you are willing to sacrifice it, none of you wanna find someone to take care of it’’ In a moment his teeth shone with a bone white brilliance, taking a feral look expected of him ‘’Then I suppose it would be fine for me to take her under my wing’’

The whole counsel grew quiet in a moment as each of the bishops took in the news differently. Kallamar seemed content at the idea as she saw him visibly calm down, no doubt thinking that their brother would get bored of the little thing and discard it quickly. As for Shamura, they seemed like they were considering the option, weighing the pros and cons.

She on the other hand only felt a cold creep from within her very core, a cold that could not be explained with mere weather. Their youngest taking care of anything let alone a baby felt… wrong.

As she considered the mere idea of it all the scenarios started to fill her mind. Maybe he would leave the little thing to fend for herself in the woods to see what would happen or perhaps they would just let chaser worms take care of her and see what would come of her in the end.

Each scenario worse than the last she couldn’t stop herself before she caught the basket in the middle of his throw before catching it back, cradling the basket to her chest she spoke with a almost a feral voice ‘’She is my lot’’

In a moment, all eyes fell on her. After what felt like a century Kallamar spoke first ‘’What did you say sist-’’

‘’It is my lot, their mother was a part of my cult.’’ She frowned towards their youngest as she shielded the baby with her arms ‘’Therefore she is mine’’ she felt the gaze from their youngest crown, the green eye within looking at her without emotion.

Their youngest looked at her with contempt radiating out of him but eventually it turned to a look that screamed indigence, as if she had taken his new favorite toy away from him.

After few more moments of silence Shamura cleared their throat ‘’I see, we have reached a verdict’’ Looking between the tension between her and their youngest they continued ‘’As the newborn is a part of Heket’s cult, I declare she holds the most claim over her’’ Looking once more over the their whole family ‘’Any objections?’’

None answered their eldest until their youngest just shrugged and with almost a pout ‘’I think that's fine’’ Looking back at her with a smirk ‘’If it is fine with Heket that is’’

He only got a nod as she decided that any word she could add here would just end up fueling his amusement.

Shamura ignoring the two of them ‘’Let it be so then. Heket, second amidst the grand bishops of The Old Faith, shall be the caretaker of Julyaryn.’’ They took in their quill before writing the documents and signing the papers.

She didn’t stay long after signing her papers, only caring to send one more glare down Leshy’s way.

Without even giving proper farewells to her siblings, she teleported them away to her temple. Ignoring all the followers who tried to speak to her she quickly made her way to her chambers before locking the door.

Finally letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she collapsed against the door.

Running her free hand through her face she desperately wished she was just dreaming or more likely going through a nightmare. Just what happened back there? Was she even thinking? She lamented her decision as she let out a frustrated groan.

She had just adopted this little mortal, without having a single clue about how to take care of a mortal let alone a newborn. What did she even want with this little mewling creature that… was crying at the moment…

Looking down on her arm she saw the little rabbit who seemed to have gone back to crying for some unknown reason. trying to think of a reason that could warrant this she ran what she knew about babies in her mind, which was not much. It should not be hungry yet she thought, she had fed the little thing back at the counsel.

 Looking at the brown furred rabbit she could tell that she didn’t intend to stop anytime soon.

Unable to take the shrill noise further she awkwardly cupped the basket with both her arms as she quietly spoke ‘’There, there?’’ She was not exactly sure what she was doing but It seemed like it was working, perhaps a little too slow for her liking still it was progress.

Cuddling her closer to her chest she tried to rock her from side to side, in a way she saw from her followers which seemed like it was doing a slightly better job.

It took the little thing a while but eventually, slowly wailing led to soft coos. With its two black eyes she looked at her, almost with awe and maybe even wonder. At the small one’s little display she felt a smile grace her lips, one that didn’t feel heavy against her wounds.

It was a small display, one that she saw many times from countless followers that came and went through her life. But it felt like this one was… special in way.

As the coos turned to giggles she thought, perhaps she didn’t know why this was happening but maybe it was good that it was happening.

After few more moments of uncertainty, almost a whisper ‘’I am with you’’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43839834/chapters/115822702

Flufffff

Heya, Yuki's here again!

This is Areh (Or mother Porrima), Eridános's wife and the main healer of the cult. The story of her arrival to the cult is the same as her husband's.

She's really soft and caring person. She cherishes all followers (and Lamb) as her own children. No one knows much about her and Eridanos's past.

This woman is in charge of physical health and healing (while Enoki is mental healer).

Fun fact: Areh is the shortest and the fluffiest of immortals in the cult

Look at the earrrrrrs, rather pointy I must say.

My brain slowly turns to CoTL character maker

This is Yanne, the second immortal. Lamb from my AU found her in the destroyed village in Anura (Enoki has already become immortal) The little fox was starving alone in the place so Lamb took her to the cult. After some years the adult now fox became the second immortal.

Yanne is an incredible farmer (and also she cooks really good) so she is in charge of food and all fields of the cult. She's cheerful and caring but really impulsive.

Also, Yanne calls Enoki brother (they are not real siblings).

As always, you're free to ask questions!

Meet my first actual CoTL oc!!

His name is Enoki. He was indoctrinated by the Lamb from my AU and became her first ever follower. Since then he became one of the immortal (thanks to Lamb and his own priest status) characters in the cult (there are several followers who are immortal including Narinder in the past-game events).

Before being indoctrinated by Lamb Enoki lost his left arm in a battle. Soon after getting used to her power, Lamb created another one for him with a special ritual.

If you have questions about him, feel free to ask me!