#we always need more narilamb

[lammydraws]

im angry blushing at them

[genolover]

Listen. I was over thinking at work again about narilamb. So many fanfics have narinder unsettled by/intimidated by/uninterested in having children and, like, great. Good soup. Will read the trope all day. But. I just always go "didn't he literally raise aym and baal?" Like he did that in a place not meant to support living creatures. And, like, he made the resurrection ritual for a reason.

I'm just saying I would 100% make a fic where he's still in his cult and it's made up of warriors and those tired and weary of life. Not many young ones, ya know. So when 2 devoted followers are like, "hey, we know this is a death cult, but can we have a kid?" He's like, "ye, sure, idgaf."

Then he sees the egg and he's like, wtf is this? Are we gonna eat it? There's a baby in there????? Are you sure? And he doesn't remember his original family and shamura and kallamar were older than him when they found him and heket was like him, young but relatively self-sufficient, and leshy was a baby when they found him but he also had a crown so he was weird. In other words, he is completely baffled by how babies work. What do you mean she can't eat this yet? How will she grow strong? Well leshy ate everything when we got him.

Then he grows unexpectedly attached to his kids. When the parents eventually die, he's unbothered. That happens. Whatevs. Then the first child dies of old age and he's like, oh. Oh no. Do not like that. And then he starts thinking that, ya know, he's learned a lot about how the other crown bearers worked and duality and such from shamura. Things are prone to change. If he's the God of Death then why can't he reverse it?

First successful resurrection doesn't go as planned. Yes, Forneus is back, but he definitely did something wrong with her lifespan.

I have to go because I've been working on this on and off since the end of lunch break and I need to go home now. Will be back with more overthinking.

[faery-the-diamond]

Mercy Gone Wrong AU Masterpost

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Annotation:

«After the final fight Lambert spares Narinder, believing that it was finally over. However, one little moment of distraction was enough for Narinder to give Lambert a nasty surprise right after. It didn't work as The One Who Waits planned, resulting in Lambert getting stuck inside the Red Crown.

Unable to get separated, Narinder and Lambert must now learn how to work with each other to keep sustaining the cult while also searching for a way to free Lambert from the Crown.

Both of them are in blissful ignorance, unaware of the bigger picture that was always there.»

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A/N:

If you a Narilamb shipper, please read this so that you knew what to expect, thank you :">

About why some things in the asks might be different from the comic.

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Discord server link

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References:

Narinder & Lambert, Narinder's robes, Bishop Narinder

Pre-MGW Lambert, Pre-Red Crown Lambert

Nerita

Leshy, Heket, Shamura

Haro

The Fox

The Overseer (Mystic seller)

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Characters available for the asks

Narinder, Lambert, Ratau, Nerita

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I won't let you go

The aftermath (ask)

Handwriting

The Crowns

Owner-user system for the Crowns (ask)

Axe

Midas

House

How Lambert runs the cult (ask)

Not trash

How do I speak?

A bit more about Lambert's functions (text)

Dolls

Do you feel content?

Can't be separated

Covered in blood

Maze of consciousness

Not a God, nor a mortal or a beast

We were watched

Care

A cry for help

A rare book

Mini comic 1: Child's play

They need help

Blue sky

The illusion of safety

Cracks

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[its-metous]

Cravings (Cotl Headcanons/Drabbles

The lamb goes to declare another doctrine, only to learn that the declared effect touches much more than just the flocks cultists.

Hi Hi! Not really a shipfic, but I am def a narilamb supporter who really likes to make headcanons so do with that as you wish! Lamb here uses She/Her pronouns and Narinder mainly gets They/Them from the Lamb! Trigger warnings/reader warnings for cannibalism here!

It’s not every morning that when a sermon is given a doctrine is declared. Though the flock is always wary of it. Lectures on their possesions, their praise, their lifestyles all seem to cause a bit of panic in at least one or two individuals. So, when the lamb mentions cannibalism, she is not surprised to watch her cultists fall dead silent.

“My leader…” A duck speaks up sometime after the silence had fallen upon them, “Surely.” They swallow, and it doesn’t take a mind reader to know they’re anxious. “Surely, we wouldn’t need to resort to that would we?”

Several pairs of eyes follow theres to look at there leader, those who weren’t quite brave enough to speak up bobbing their heads and nodding along as a murmur starts to spread through the temple. It was a step up from the last time she had preached on sustenance, then, then they had gotten a feast. But. It seemed an uncanny follow up.

She laughs after a moment, her eyes slipping from suprised that someone had spoken up to amused and the flock seems to tense. “It’s not something that we would resort to per say my friends,” she places them tome back down on her podium as she leans up against it with a hand resting against her chin. “We are the devotees of The One Who Waits are we not? Is the death that our master grants the most devoted of us not something to be treasured?” The murmurs start up again, she’s got them thinking. Good, she smiles to herself.

A hand raises in the crowd from a short bunny trying desperately to be seen, “But we won’t have to only eat others right? Wouldn’t it be a threat to the cult if we only eat everyone? What of our farms?”

“You misunderstand me.” She straightens herself up and removes the crown from her head, holding it high for the crowd to see. “We’re not going to a diet of flesh, nor should you think of this as you would eating your favorite meal.” Her hand presses against her chest and she closes her eyes as if in a promise, “I would not ask that of you.” She hears the crowd breathe a sigh of relief as she opens her eyes, “But.” Perhaps she was getting a bit too much of a kick out of this, mind reading the Oh Fuck‘s had gotten fun. “I am asking that we take in stride our role as loyal followers to honor each life that Death lifts away from us. For they would not let our devotion fail us, so we must not let ours fail them.”

Perhaps, leaving the sermon, most of the followers do not agree with her declaration. But, they also seem relatively at ease with the idea for now, as most of the elderly chose to have themselves sacrificed or ascended leaving few corpses for anyone to have to worry about cannibalizing. At least, she thinks to herself, At least no one is thinking of dissenting from this doctrine. Though she can still remember the one badger that lost his patience when she started collecting tithes… Arguably the worst part of this doctrine was the few stray minds that seemed, well, “happy” about it. She wasn’t quite sure how to handle those individuals, at least not at the moment. Nor was she sure how she would handle her own gods opinion on her choice of commandments, the shepherd was quick to be amused by her decisions as the flock leader.

It’s almost noon when she finds herself still running around the cult grounds, unironically making up meals in preparation for her first crusade in Anura. How she’s going to actually start butchering the elderly that she can’t sacrifice or ascend? She’s not sure still. The only thing she’s really got going for her is that she’s decided she’ll probably just serve them well minced into the carnivore’s meals and not mention it. Everyone will forget about the doctrine if it goes unmentioned for a while. Even if that does mean, a while, considering that none of the followers had said much to her after the sermon. Maybe they just noticed her being busy. Though it does hurt a bit when only Jager waves her farewell on her way out to Anura.

It’s much, much colder than Darkwood she notes. It’s a blessing that she hadn’t sheared yet, even if it made it a bit more difficult to avoid the oversized frogs. Though, all around, it also feels a bit less dangerous than Darkwood? Less chaotic even, but that’s probably rather fitting given it’s bishop. Here, the creatures were simply easier to avoid, or come around from behind and swing at. Maybe it would be something to flaunt to the shepherd when she sees them again, another reason as to why giving her a bell wasn’t the smartest choice. It feels strange that they would have sent her to Darkwood first though, this place seemed so much easier. Just frogs, a few odds and ends cultists, and smoke, that seemed to be it.

She pauses rerunning through her thoughts as the smell clicks. There’s no visible flames for as far as the eye can see, so she drags her sword behind her and follows the acrid smell. It still seems like a red herring. The area is grassy and autumn like, just like the rest of Anura had been so far, but. Her eyes dip to a few small patches of soot on the ground spaced in the clearing. Something was here. Or, well it had been, she thinks as she steps onto one of the sooted areas and squats to examine it.

It wasn’t a smart choice. At least not in the moment, given how quickly a set of fireballs is shot out and allowed to connect with her head. She’s still writhing by the time she finds herself in the afterlife. Her hearing is slow to come back, but she can feel the room practically shaking with the shepherd’s laughter. “I know, I know, It was dumb.”

“Very.” They say, their red eyes in slits from their cheeks pulling up.

Her arms fall out from behind her and she slumps to splay out in the sand, she sighs. “At least you get some amusement out of it,” her hands reach up opening and closing at the cat leaning over her small form. “Home, I need to try again.”

They shift, reaching a hand down through the slightly loosened chains to have a claw poke at the center of their raised palm. “Are you sure you don’t have something to bleat about to me?”

“No.” She says it quickly, her hand other hand coming up to hold the claw as if it could be considered a threat. They merely poke her more.

“Are you sure? I could have sworn that a doctrine got declared today.”

“You’re mistaken.”

They huff, another hand reaches down and unceremoniously grips her by the back of her cloak and holds her over the other palm. If looks could kill they think. “Cannibalism. That is a sin among mortals you know?” She’s dropped, flailing before being cupped in the other hand with bangs falling over her eyes.

“Waste not want not right?,” she shakes herself and tries to right herself before the palm shifts again and she grapples one of the claws, “why,” the god stills, she blows hair from her mouth, “would you only give me those two options anyways?”

“Two extremes.” Its silent for a moment, “and its amusing.”

“Uh huh.” She shifts back into a sitting position deeming it safer, though she does not release the cat’s thumb from her arms. “Did you eat people? Like when you were free?”

There’s silence, then laughter. It’s hoarse, but the lamb smiles at it. She wonders if they only laugh when she’s around cosidering the other two cats never seem much for conservation. “I could have. Perhaps I did, It’s been so long though I can not point to it as a specific memory,” they hum.

The lamb nods and then laughs, “Y’know I thought you were going to tell me that’s what you did to the last few vessels.”

The god pauses, stunned before they smirk, and lift their palm above their head. “No.” The lamb grasps the cat’s thumb tighter as the palm starts to slip from below her, “It would just be what I’m saving you for.”

They drop her and she flails before finding her feet firmly beneath herself on the waystone. It’s hard to catch her breath as she can still practically hear the god laughing, it stings. There’s only so many curses she can think of and mutter under her breath to try and hide the embarassment, of course they wouldn’t actually eat me. Of course they wouldn’t, the thought repeats as she heads back into Anura before the sunrises.

The crusade is going better this time. It’s still a bit disconcertingly cool despite her cloak and wool, the thinner parts of fleece on her legs feeling the worst of it. But, she’s butchered far more frogs than she can count, and the fireball tree things that she still hadn’t named had yet to even singe her! All in all, her progress felt good with the first witness’s pathway at the edge of the heretic camp she had cleared. It takes little more than a yawn sneaking out of her mouth to lead her to sit down under one of the tents. Her head rests up against the side of it and her eyes close, not intending to sleep so much as take a break.

“Lamb,” the crown calls floating off her head and she hums in acknowledgement not stopping to open her eyes. They didn’t call to her during her crusades often, she’d asked once, they’d called themselves a distraction she remembers. “I have a request of you.”

She snorts, an eye cracking open to gaze at the crown floating in front of her. “I know, I’m on it.” The crown rolls its singular eye, and she struggles to stifle the giggle.

“A different one, I need you to bring me something.”

“Mm?” She couldn’t think of the last time when she got a request of him. Any demand really other than that of killing the bishops.

“A heretic.”

Both her eyes open up to stare at the crown in front of her. “What?” She sits up. “Wait actually how?”

There’s a soft harumph noise that comes from the crown as it shakes, pestered, “Sacrifice them to me. You have declared a change in my nature.”

“How did I do that exactly..?” The question drags but the crown replaces itself on her head, finished with the conversation.“ It’s unsettling so she rests no longer, manifesting her weapon as she heads towards the witness.

It’s quick work and she beams a bit at it, even though the crown floats from between her horns to look down at her. They’re frowning, but she likes to pretend they’re beaming at the witness she sends back to the cult too. She’s quick to start heading for the exit, until the crown does not come back towards her.

“Lamb. The heretic.”

She cocks her head over her shoulder, foot still in the air to march home, “Like now?” She eyes the crown then the exit, again.

“Lamb.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” She mumbles shifting with her cloak to head back into Anura in search of any remaining heretics. It’s dark by the time she finds a camp she skipped over. The heretics seem unaware of their peers’ massacre by the time she arrives with a brandished axe. With the witness gone, they pose a simple threat, especially in such small numbers. It almost reminds her of the prochecy. Five, then four, then three, then two, then one. But she doesn’t let it reach nothing. There’s just the one left, broken and bleeding as she let’s go of the axe for the crown to form. They stand there, over the heretic as it whimpers. “So, how do I do a sacrifice in the woods?” She looks to the crown as it shakes. She finds it unreadable.

“Draw the ritual circle, do the ritual.”

“I don’t bring chalk with me into the woods.”

“I see an obvious replacement.” They hum lowering to the blood covering Anura’s floor.

She makes a face, sticks her tongue out and ‘“blehs”. “That’s kind of gross.” but the god does not seem to care as it stares at her.

She shifts slightly more so out of discomfort than anything before sighing and reaching her hand into a corpses blood to drip a circle into the ground. There’s no candles, but the sun is rising so she can see at least some of what she’s doing. Even if the main thing she’s seeing is her own bloodied hands and wool. It takes a moment and there’s a residual gross feeling as she finishes and looks towards the heretic who still hasn’t managed to do more than drag themselves into the brush. “Will you do the incantation for me?” she asks the crown floating behind her.

“Have you not memorized it?”

“Nope.”

“It would serve you well to be more dilligent.”

“Well,” the heretic screeches as she drags it back onto the circle, “I didn’t think I would need to know them so far from the cult.”

“Hmph.”

“Is that a yes?” she drops the heretic and they fall into its center.

“If it is the only option.”

There’s a nod from her as she starts to step out of the circle, wary of her face flashing up with blood like the last time. But it doesn’t come as the crown speaks a bit too quick for her escape and she finds herself falling. Then it’s all white sand as she panics. “HEY!”

The two wardens are here this time, one smirks at her graceless arrival. Her eyes travel as she rights herself flustered and dusting off the sand sticking to the blood on her, freezing when she finds the god holding the heretic that seems to have fallen here with her. It smells wrong. And from her view below it seems to be decaying within the gods grasp, she finds herself lucky to always be in the god’s good graces. They eye her as she oggles them and speaks “So kind of you to have not butchered this one into quite so many pieces.”

“Yeah…” her voice trails off as she continues to watch the blood drip off them. “Why, actually how. How did I change you?” she asks hands making air quotes around “change” in particular.

They grin, “watch.” And she does, eyes widening as the god tips their head back and devours the heretic in much the same way they had dropped her in their previous meeting. She flinches, the other two cats ears flick back to ignore the horrible sound of bones cracking.

“You..?” The puzzle pieces aren’t fitting. “You eat people because of me?”

“Close.” They hum licking their lips as they slump downwards, resting their arms against the sand to look the lamb in their eyes. “You declared a doctrine in my name. Do you think it has no effect on me?”

She stays quiet and the cat snickers as her metaphorical gears turn. “I declared you to be… a cannibal?”

“No. You’ve declared me to be a lot of things, this is just one of the things I can.” They gesture to the small pile of blood before them, “indulge in?”

She frowns and shakes her head, “Gross. You’re gross.”

“You declared it.”

“Yeah, Yeah,” she hums before her eyes go wide and she moves towards the god, “Wait,” a finger gets pointed in the smiling cats direction. “Does that mean you were actually threatening to eat me the other day?”

There’s a cheshire smile to the god as her voice peaks at the false realization, they’d laugh if they had not done so so much already. “I suppose you’ll find out if you’re not quicker next time I task you with my cravings.”

“Death!”

They don’t hold back as a hoarse taunting laugh fills the afterlife. It’s almost bittersweet that this is their last vessel, yet the one they have had the most fun with.

[the-one-who-lambs]

How do you have so much impact on a fandom and yet get so little recognition?

Because I have been a cotl fan for more than a year now and narilamb would not be as popular as it is without you

Before you write the first risen lamb and the fallen god series narilamb was usually like a joke ship mostly, or the lamb is teasing nari and he won't open up, or trying to love each other but the pain they have caused makes them have so many communication issues

But then you wrote it as an enemies to lovers concept and I noticed it made a shift when it started clicking with people. You turned it into something that is thought provoking and totally lovely and yet they are both still so wicked, they're evil and they love each other so much and despite everything it works and it inspired people to where the majority where seeing enemies to lovers as kind of the standard for narilamb

Also, how Shamura raised their siblings, and a few other popular headcanons or concepts, started with you

What do you think?

I love all your writing btw it's interesting to see you're still here and have so many fresh ideas even writing for cult of the lamb for so long! Cheers

I feel like this is well-intentioned but I don't feel like I don't get "recognition"? I mean, up until a month or two ago I was (allegedly) the most read fic writer but the fandom's fanfic archive is not super big and not as widely read as many fandoms I've been in.

Plus, it's not like anyone needs to list me in their bibliography if they're inspired by fanon stuff I've popularized. The autistic Narinder train is communally run by the fandom now. I've jumped out of the conductor's seat and I'm just shoveling coal into the engine like everyone else. Enemies to lovers was already a trope and I just saw a niche that needed filling (or, in the early days of the fandom it needed filling, but now everyone's brought something to the fandom potluck and we are all having a good time and I am eating them all. Btw)

(And about the "Shamura raising their siblings" thing: I was not the first person to portray that. I was actually inspired by @bishops-of-the-old-faith, an original fandom staple that will always be a cherished part of my experience here!)

How much of this stuff was I the "first" to do? How much fanon did I popularize? It doesn't actually matter to me because I'm honestly too busy chewing on my next project/current WIP. We're all just playing house.

Thanks for reading!

[the-ding-dong-ditch-committee]

Ships: Narilamb, Ratausnake

other notes: nonbinary lamb, mention of killing/hurting a character, marriage mention, heavily inspired by @rabiesram 's content.

After the end of the game [true devotion ending], Lamb brings Narinder, their boyfriend, to meet their family [knucklebones crew].

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"Nari, Its just my family. It'll be fine!"

"Why can't we just stay here?" Narinder asked, knowing that the Lamb's family would not react well to him.

"C'mon, we can leave if we have to. And I want you to at least meet them!" the Lamb paused, "Please, Nari?" holding a hand out for their lover to hold.

Narinder sighed, intertwining his fingers with theirs, as he stepped closer to them. "Fine, but we leave if anything happens."

"Of course, Nari."

Soon enough, the two were in front of the house the Lamb's family lived in.

Lamb knocked, the door swung open, and two familiar faces greeted them. Narinder, stepped into the small, now illuminated space in front of the door. As Lamb began to speak, Narinder, felt all but comforable.

He felt glares focus on him from every person in the room [other than Lamb, of course]. The feeling was not enjoyable.

Lamb sat down, patting the spot next to them on the floor. The table usually used for knucklebones, had been converted into a dinner table.

"So this is your boyfriend?" Ratau was visibly judging Narinder.

"Yes, dad. He's my boyfriend." Lamb looked over at Narinder, then back at their parents.

They intertwined their fingers with Narinder's.

"Dads, please don't kill my boyfriend."

There was a pause, Flinky attemped to say something, but was quickly cut off.

"No hurting my boyfriend!"

Narinder fidgeted with the Lamb's hand. Soon, all conversation had paused, only a few words were spoken.

Soon, the discussion had returned, yet was mostly focused on knucklebones.

"Hah!" Ratau chuckled as Shrumy forked over, what Narinder believed was an absurd amount of coins to wager over a silly dice game.

Narinder yawned.

"Nari, are you already tired?"

"Yes. Are we leaving any time soon?" Narinder had more sass than usual when tired. And he always had sass.

"Hush, Nari." Lamb grabbed his face, kissing his cheek. "We'll leave after this game."

"Bye dads! Bye Shrumy! Bye Klunko! Bye Bop!" The Lamb said, Narinder behind them as they left.

As they returned to the cult, Narinder spoke.

"Finally. I did not enjoy that."

"Nari, what do you mean?"

"They were glaring at me the whole time."

"Nari, they'll warm up to you. They're a bit... protective..."

"They were going to kill me."

Lamb reached up to the space between Narinder's ears, causing him to purr. The two slipped into their private tent.

"Kitty cat needs a nap."

"Damned lamb... I hate you..."

"Love you too, Nari Kitty." Lamb allowed Narinder to lay his head on their lap.

The only sounds were Narinder purring and Lamb gently humming. As the lamb tried to kiss Narinder's head, he clawlessly swiped at them.

Lamb gasped. "Nari! Do you not love me?"

Narinder hissed.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

"How could i prove my love to you?"

"You could give me th-"

"Other than giving you the red crown?"

"Lamb, why must you be this way?"

"Come on, Narinder."

Narinder thought for a moment.

"I have an idea."

"And what is it, Kitty?"

"I make you immortal, and stay by your side, if you give me the crown."

"Marry me first."

"Alright. I will."

"We'll get married in the morning. Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything I could do for you, my love?"

Narinder laid his head on their lap, Lamb stroked between his ears. Soon he was asleep.

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end of fic. I might write more if yall ask nicely.

[lammydraws]

finding comfort