inknanda67

[inknanda67]

OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!!

Help, every day that passes I see that yes, Colt's Bluetooth exists for heaven's sake!!!!! It happened to @whysoblue2 with our headcanons about Leshy, and to @captain-l-jones our headcanons about Narilamb and it happens. om @saiwasneverhere with Fornari and now with you about Fornari/ forneus's history. Oh my gosh! I think we all draw from the same creative source!

Of course, there are differences, but I still see that we are similar in many things in our headcanons about the story of our fics/drawings.

Buuut! I have to say, heavens Shamura! You were cruel...But I can't say anything because mine was so cruel too.

And I am really touched that both (mine and yours Narinder) asked her to protect the kittens at all costs and still she failed, it is sad, but the kittens would have to go ;-;

Spoiler of "Hearts are made to be" fic below!

A HUGE ONE:

( I of course put an older, more simplified version of the scene that will be posted in the fic, but it's still a spoiler)

At the end of the day, Forneus was gathering the plant pots she used to feed, tying them to her cart, when she heard a rustling not far from her stall. Thinking it was another customer, she turned, but saw no one.

"Hello?" She called out, glancing at the algae gently swaying with the current. "We’re closed, sir, or..." She trailed off, watching the algae move again. From their soft swaying, a lilac light appeared, an eye shaped like a crescent moon blinked at her.

"M-My lord, I—ah!" Before she could finish, she collapsed to the ground, released from the god’s hold. She spat out the sand she swallowed in the fall and still coughing, turned quickly to the god, they had retracted one of their hands, leaving only the one with the cane extended from their cloak.

Her pupil shrank in panic. She ran toward the cradle where her kittens were sleeping, but a weight slammed against her back, knocking her down. She gasped, her lungs burning, she couldn’t breathe. Her body was forced downward, becoming numb, the being lifted her, levitating her toward it as it emerged from the algae.

A spider, leaning on a cane among its many legs, extended one of them toward Forneus, who tried to fight, but could not resist the power of the bishop of war.

"Priestess of Death."

"M-Mercy, my lord..." She pleaded. "My heart has never sinned against the Old Faith. My prayers and devotion have always remained at your altars. Please, do not let your wrath fall upon me." She panted heavily, her body still motionless, yet trembling before the god’s presence. The spider clicked their pedipalps.

"Two became one... five became none... Yes, without a doubt, a faithful devotee of the Old Faith. But your heart was never with us, it belonged to the one we imprisoned." The spider approached her merchant cart. It looked so small to him, the roof of Forneus’ traveling home barely reached their chest. "You’re hard to find. Even with all my knowledge, it took me months to locate you. I spin my web and hear your lamentations for my brother at night." They spoke in a hazy, serious tone. She saw their head throbbed and bled beneath the bandages covering their fractured skull.

The vision of that cursed day brought back the female cat's memory, the terrible sound of the bishops fighting, the gurgling scream of Narinder being beheaded, her eyes filled with tears of sadness and despair.

"Miu~"

The bishop’s extra eyes turned toward the cradle, making Forneus stir. She looked at her children, now squirming and mewling, then she looked at the bishop, who stared silently at the kittens.

"Ah!" She gasped, Looking at the amulet given to her by her husband, broken and burning with a lilac flame, in the sand. It was destroyed, completely.

"I did not come for conflict. No, surely not to frighten you." They spoke calmly. You escaped our judgment that night, you should have burned along with the entire Cult of Death and its master." The god spoke, looking the panting cat touch her chest, with a blink from the spider, her necklace snapped and fell broken into the sand.

"I see that’s the issue." Shamuransaid, crouching before the servant. "My poor little brother... using what I taught him against me. Even in death, he continues to betray us." Some of their extra eyes welled with tears.

The cat looked up at they in fear and confusion.

"Y-You said, my lord bishop, you did not come to frighten me, but you’ve stirred my heart." She said, trembling. "It beats restless and tremblers in your presence." The bishop clicked two legs, gazing toward her.b "Tell me, my lord, what do you seek from your servant?"

"What do I seek from my brother’s servant?" Shanura corrected, glancing at the cradle, where the kittens still cried. "A sacrifice must be made. Yes... a sacrifice."

Forneus looked at the cradle with her children and trembled, she bowing deeply.

"May the blade you prepared for me my lord, be merciful, for I have been a faithful servant." She said, eyes full of tears, heart pounding in fear.

The cat quickly crawled toward the bishop, kneeling in front of him and placing her forehead in the sand, preventing the god from getting any closer to the kittens who were still meowing.

"No. There is no blade for you. You are a faithful servant indeed. Great is your faith. Your heart still prays for the dead and for those who rule the lands you walk, Surely even heretics your parents raised you well." They walked toward the cradle.

"Surely my blood is worth much, my lord."

"But you came to take from me my hearts." She trembled, by interrupting the divine being. "Part of my chest beats in them, part of his... beats in them."

"Priestess of death, I did not come to frighten you."

Shamura rolled their eyes toward the cradle, gazing at the kittens trembling from the cold. They reached out, hesitant and adjusted the red shawl over them, Forneus remained prostrate, still trembling.

"A gift?" she repeated, her voice choked.

"My chest aches. My heart breaks and bleeds. Part of me is gone, along with my skull, with him..." Shamura said, retracting their claw after caring for the twins. "I hear his mewling, his ceaseless cries, flood the afterlife with water, rivers are formed by his own tears and soak the souls. Yes, a river of tears." The spider looked at the cat, who lifted her tear-streaked face to him. "A festival approaches, a reminder of the eternal, constant faith in us. All bishops shall be gifted and praised." The cat nodded in understanding. All of them would, except Him. "A gift... That is what I came to receive from you."

She looked at the god, then at the cradle with her children, her heart weighed heavy in her chest, her tears kept pouring. She sobbed, but stood slowly, watching the bishop step back as she approached the cradle. Her whimpering kittens calmed at her touch, unaware that those cold drops falling on them were not from the ocean, they were her tears.

"All bishops will be gifted. The one who waits is not also a bishop?" The bishop of war touched their face, wiping away the ichor from their wound. "My heart aches. It breaks and bleeds for my brother who suffers alone beyond this life and world." They glanced at the kittens. "A gift, Forneus." They called her by name. "A gift for the one I love most."

She kissed them with tenderness and pain etched into her face.

"My beloveds... my hearts... a part of me, and a part of him." She wept, stroking their faces, watching Baal finally stop crying. "Be good and faithful... Your mother asks this of you." She sobbed. "Be... strong..." Forneus inhaled sharply, trembling, hearing the bishop's claws click behind her. She kissed them again, the knot in her throat nearly choking her. "May beautiful death be gentle with you, my two my little hearts..." She whispered, then turned toward the bishop and handed them to Shamura, who raised their hand to stop her.

"Yes, my lord..." She answered.

"Come with me," they said. "Dress appropriately, priestess, and follow me."

Once dressed, she followed they into the algae that slowly became grass, until the cold of Anchordeep gave way to the muggy, humid air of the ruins of the death cult, Forneus looked back, seeing the great stone portal of the entrance to the cult destroyed, there were still traces of ash, the grass was slowly growing back in place of the houses,that burned on that fateful day.

Then Shamura took the bundle with the little ones, and entering her home, she fetched her white cloak and the ancient robes of priesthood. Her hand shook as she tried to tie her fur into a braid, her tears smearing the makeup she had made with her own blood. The symbols on her forehead and cheeks were embroidered by her tears, she covered her face sucking the finger she cut to paint her face, she was about to break there, but she couldn't let the Bishop waiting.

Before her stood the large stone statue of the Red Crown, long extinguished, devoid of power or devotion. She looked at the stone, seeing there a new inscription that had not been there before the cult was destroyed by the bishops.

Shamura approached and handed her the children, and then walked towards the stairs and climbed them to Narinder’s tomb, Forneus followed the god right behind.

"Here godly blood was spilled Here did death wished no longer to wait."

As they crossed the heavy stone gates, she found herself among many skulls, the remains of all cultists who died that day, laid to rest in the same tomb as their god.

She looked at her kittens, her whole body trembled. She feared what was to come. She feared what she must do, for the vows she made before the gods.

She was their Mother, but above all, by her own words, she was a Witness of the True Faith.

Her eyes once again filled with tears as she saw the bishop of war caress the stone gate with a pentagram before the small pool inside the tomb. She could feel it, her husband’s body ashes lay just behind those doors.

"It is time..." The spider whispered, turning to the feline and touching their wounded head. Their violet crown took the shape of a dagger, which they extended toward the trembling cat, as her kittens cried under the sudden tightness of her grip. " As a priestess it is your duty, sacrifice them in the name of your god."

Promise

My quick sketch of the logical conclusion to this comic

AND A REFERENCE TO MY OLD ART ↓

[inknanda67]

AND FINALLY! WHAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!

" Is it true Nanda?!"

YES IT IS!

Mooooooooore

PAN'S FLUTE!!! YAAAAAY!

( Help, the chapters are huge, someone help me, this story is full of yeast)

But look! More comfort and some memories for the worm!

I finally revealed the song that Pan and Leshy played at the beginning of the fic.

[inknanda67]

:D nhami nhami

I would eat this with you and @saiwasneverhere

(But I would have replaced the pork in my dish with breaded chicken)

Curry rice with pork katsu

[inknanda67]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟!

Feel free to message/email me with any inquiries. I don't bite! Contact me via tumblr DMs Gmail: hypnodigitalis@gmail Discord: hypnodigitalis

[inknanda67]

Onw poor Leshy.

( this is canon for me too lol)

Youngest Siblings mini comic

[inknanda67]

:D Mine Narinder is also Indian!

( and @saiwasneverhere Narinder is Pakistani)

In my drawings, that i have of my Narinder is not wearing typical clothes, but that is for plot reasons.

Narinders arts

But I put references in my fic to his nationality:

Like in my fic Hearts are made to be:

Chapter 1 excerpt: Narinder Clothing.

"Arms crossed with her was Narinder, Forneus gasped as she looked at the feline that guided his sister to the pulpit, he wore a garment never seen in those lands before, unlike all the bishops he was not wearing his mantle, he wore only a tunic, black and gold like the bishops' clothing adorned with embroidery of skulls and symbols of protection at its ends, at his waist rested a belt of silver and red stones, as well as the golden tiara that descended from his ears with slight curves and spirals, dripping blood red stones in the shape of drops on his face, the largest stone resting on the eyelid of his third eye..."

Chapther 3 excerpt: Incense used in the temple of death.

"Forneus looked around, still a little dazed by the red light emanating from the candles that surrounded the room. About thirty acolytes were present, all wearing high-hooded robes covering their faces, each holding candles and incense sticks that gave off an intense aroma of myrrh and lotus, which made the cat slightly dizzy."

( Myrrh: Spiritual purification, protection of the soul, offering to the gods. Lotus: Rebirth, purity of soul, divine connection, path to moksha.)

Chapther 3 excerpt: "Sindoor ritual"

-So, you are mine, Forneus, daughter of the children of the sun, from today you are reborn, you no longer have the life and family you had before, everything you were before entering my gates no longer matters, today in front of everyone you are reborn, as my priestess. - He said, extending his hand above the head of Forneus, touching her forehead, painting the servant's face with blood, which she did not see where he had taken it from, completely hypnotized by the image of the god that was in front of her.

( I replaced it with blood because of the game plot, but it is an analogy to Sindhooram charthal )

And in chapter 6 is full of references to Hindu rituals in the preparation of Forneus to be the new priestess of death.

And many other references in this fic and also in the new chapter of Pan's Flute Fic:

( yes, new, because I still translating this)

Chapter 9 except/spoiler: Narinder Clothes again.

"Narinder was dressed in his traditional robes of the Old Faith: a black and gold cloak, a golden belt adorned with rich golden embroidery and patterns of crosses and infinity symbols. His garment, of immeasurable value, had long sleeves and was made of black-dyed wool from sheep sacrificed in his name, woven so finely it appeared the god was wearing the softest linen. The robe fell to his thighs and was adorned with cotton ribbons embroidered with silver threads depicting skulls and hearts. The collar descended to Narinder’s chest, where three silver buttons shaped like raven skulls gleamed. It was a beautiful dress—simple and extremely comfortable to curl up in (although Narinder disliked the term. He recalled his brother once correcting Kallamar, saying he wore a shalwar and not a dress, when the squid questioned why he wore such plain black trousers with a garment so richly adorned)."

IS YOUR NARI INDIAN?? ? I never see anyone draw a good ol Indian Nari,,

He is! I'm so upset that I don't see more Indian Narinders?? I've only seen ONE other person draw him in a sari and it was really pretty! I'm STARVED.

I guess it’s easier to tell he’s Punjabi when I draw him as a man than a leopard, I dunno

I also really like drawing him with dhoti pants/lungis, I just feel like he’d like them

[inknanda67]

:0 You make such a beautiful art!

I tried to do something similar but it turned out... Well, cool for a first time, but still, I hope one day to improve and draw like you :3

Beautiful drawing! I loved it!

( My art below in case you're curious about it)

Tw:blood

Wip still. Trying to figure out how to paint honestly

[inknanda67]

I do!

( A funny fact she was my first follower, and my first wife, and she was a yellow cat, but I changed her color to black and called her Lilith because I didn't know the real name of the character Ruri)

It took me a long time to respond because only my boyfriend has an Xbox and I bought the game so that every time i went to his house i could play colt there. ( And we see each other very little because of work)

Have any Cult of the Lamb players here customized a cat follower into Ruri? It sounds fun and I’d love to see that. (I don’t have the game or any of the necessary game equipment yet. Lol.)

[inknanda67]

NOOOOOOOOOO NOT MY FAVORITE BLOG!!!

AAHHHHHH!!!!!

hey is it just me or did theonewhowanks get nuked? :(

OH SHIT DUDE NO WAY

FUCK

[inknanda67]

The Six spouses of the Lamb.

- This fanfic is a spin off of the series "Between Golden Ornaments and Tarot Cards" -

The origin story of the six sacred spouses of the lamb.

"Lɪʟɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ Fᴇᴀʀʟᴇss"

"𝓗𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼."

"𝙺𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝."

"𝑬𝒔𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍."

"𝒮ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℒℴ𝓋𝒾𝓃ℊ."

And "Narinder the pɹǝɥdǝɥS "

Chapter 1- Ruri/ Lilith the fearless.

( Yes, I made a drawing for each spouse. )

Chapter Synopsis:

After the mushroom incident, Ruri and Lamb find themselves alone in a devastated cult, without help or food, their relationship begins to break down, the cat finds herself in a situation where she needs to act, for the sake of her spouse who is exhausted, with their confidence shaken.

The lamb saw no way out, they were ready to receive the punishment of his god, for their incompetence, even if it meant that they would be gone forever.

She would not let this happen, she could not stand by and watch her savior waste away, she would face the unstoppable, even if she was called a heretic.

~ Is this what you wanted @rurilamb @mayybeliyah ?

[inknanda67]

Please, If you can spare anything, help me get my boy to the vet.

I know yall just got me help in getting to the dentist and I hate to ask for more but my cat, my poor boy, he's been sick for the last few days. He's been sneezing, his nose has been runny and raw, and now part of the bridge of his nose is swollen outwards and I am. terrified. I want to get him to the vet ASAP but I have nothing in my bank account. His usual vet, whos been so nice and helpful, is 159usd per exam fee. Plus an extra 100 for whatever meds he might need my goal is 259usd I know its a lot to ask but please, my boy is miserable rn and he can hardly breathe. I can't let him suffer like this I just cant.

If you can spare even a little please help. Paypal: @ Goatsgalore96 Venmo @ CallenGGoat Cashapp: $calgoat96 0/259usd

[inknanda67]

Is that your soup @eliza-forget

[inknanda67]

Reaper, the lover.

"You know, they say that death is usually an unexpected visitor, but when it comes to you, you are so inconvenient that I must agree."

Sans longed for death, he planned it as the most special event of his entire life, however, when everything came to fruition, he did not expect that he would be in limbo, where life and death have no control over the destiny of the beings in that place.

He stayed there for years and years, his body rotted, but refused to stink, he was alive, but dead, and there was no one in that empty space but him.

However, when the reaper finally reached his filthy soul, he did not think for a moment that he was there to court him instead of taking him from that endless torment in which he was trapped.

Fanfic posted on spirit and wattpad in 2022 in Brazilian Portuguese, for the "Radio Day" challenge of the Spirit2022 Challenges.

The challenge was to make a fanfic where the protagonist turned on the radio and, based on the music on the radio, his life changed forever. (At least that's what I remember it was)

Read the fanfic here :3

..

I'm very happy to translate and post my older fanfics here and on Ao3 because I only have Cult of the lamb, but I spent more than 8 years of my life writing UtAU fanfic... Soooo~ I have to be ashamed and post them for you to see too ^^

[inknanda67]

I'm glad you liked it, and well, since it's midnight here now, I think April is already over, but I only managed to finish the drawing now to complement the text above :3

°•🪱🌿🐈•°

Pan: Well?

Leshy: You are Beautiful Pan.

Full artwork below:

It's going to be a BIG spoiler of my Leshycat fic, but fuck it!

I was wanting to do at least one of the four weeks of leshycatpril, but I just realized that my fic have a little bit of everything I could do with this challenge, sooo~

I don't know, I just wanted to put this here on tumblr, my readers forgive me but here's a spoiler.

LeshyCatPril- Week 3 Injurie.

(Mega late but I did it because I want to)

Pan’s Beautiful Face

•°🪱🌿🐈°•

Pan’s face was the most beautiful face Leshy had ever touched.

He didn’t understand the children’s screams, didn’t understand why so many people called him a monster.

The cat’s scars were soft to the touch, his shoulder and face were covered in them, small hairless bumps, gentle to the fingers, tender to kiss.

His lips were as soft as petals, his tongue glided between broken fangs.

His hands slid from bare wrists, arms with bristly fur, from broad shoulders, a firm neck, a deformed right shoulder, soft cheeks, and singed whiskers.

The cat’s face is beautiful, it told stories in every detail,

The great flame that consumed his home, burning half his face.

The fight against the chains of slavery, still biting into his wrists.

The infection, the result of the poor care the Old Faith gave its slaves, had taken his right eye.

The illness spread so much it made one of his ears fall off.

Is that why the children ran from him? Because he was missing an eye and an ear?

No, that didn’t make sense.

Because Pan have the most beautiful face!

Yes, Pan has the face of someone broken, of a suffering fighter,

Of someone who shattered his fangs to defend his wife,

Of someone who stepped into the flames to save his kittens,

Of someone who faced hell, who saw the worst in people and still believed in the best of them,

Of someone who endured spit, the whip on his back, shit on his face, and disdain.

Of someone who endured fever, heatstroke from extreme labor,

Who bled, who cried until his sweet voice became hoarse, rough, harsh.

Of someone completely broken, and who still smiled.

Oh, that beautiful crooked smile, not always wide,

His scars made it hard for the cat to even stretch the right corner of his lips.

But it was the most beautiful smile.

Yes, Pan’s face is beautiful,

The most beautiful face of the True, the Old, and the New Faith.

Leshy didn’t understand why he was called a monster.

Was it his deformed face? His strong and stern way?

Well then, if Pan is a monster, why would he have such a beautiful face?

Monsters are ugly, evil by nature.

He is a monster, born in chaos, drowned in sorrow and cruelty.

His face is grotesque, his body made to strike fear in the bravest mortal.

His face didn’t need to be deformed, just opening his eyes, showing his teeth or lips was enough.

Being a monster was being Leshy, not Pan.

Pan had all those scars just for being good,

A good husband, a good father, a good slave, a good cat…

No, he couldn’t be a monster.

•°🪱🌿🐈°•

Leshycatpril challenge by @aniflowers @aniflowersartblog

Byeee~

[inknanda67]

It's going to be a BIG spoiler of my Leshycat fic, but fuck it!

I was wanting to do at least one of the four weeks of leshycatpril, but I just realized that my fic have a little bit of everything I could do with this challenge, sooo~

I don't know, I just wanted to put this here on tumblr, my readers forgive me but here's a spoiler.

LeshyCatPril- Week 3 Injurie.

(Mega late but I did it because I want to)

Pan’s Beautiful Face

•°🪱🌿🐈°•

Pan’s face was the most beautiful face Leshy had ever touched.

He didn’t understand the children’s screams, didn’t understand why so many people called him a monster.

The cat’s scars were soft to the touch, his shoulder and face were covered in them, small hairless bumps, gentle to the fingers, tender to kiss.

His lips were as soft as petals, his tongue glided between broken fangs.

His hands slid from bare wrists, arms with bristly fur, from broad shoulders, a firm neck, a deformed right shoulder, soft cheeks, and singed whiskers.

The cat’s face is beautiful, it told stories in every detail,

The great flame that consumed his home, burning half his face.

The fight against the chains of slavery, still biting into his wrists.

The infection, the result of the poor care the Old Faith gave its slaves, had taken his right eye.

The illness spread so much it made one of his ears fall off.

Is that why the children ran from him? Because he was missing an eye and an ear?

No, that didn’t make sense.

Because Pan have the most beautiful face!

Yes, Pan has the face of someone broken, of a suffering fighter,

Of someone who shattered his fangs to defend his wife,

Of someone who stepped into the flames to save his kittens,

Of someone who faced hell, who saw the worst in people and still believed in the best of them,

Of someone who endured spit, the whip on his back, shit on his face, and disdain.

Of someone who endured fever, heatstroke from extreme labor,

Who bled, who cried until his sweet voice became hoarse, rough, harsh.

Of someone completely broken, and who still smiled.

Oh, that beautiful crooked smile, not always wide,

His scars made it hard for the cat to even stretch the right corner of his lips.

But it was the most beautiful smile.

Yes, Pan’s face is beautiful,

The most beautiful face of the True, the Old, and the New Faith.

Leshy didn’t understand why he was called a monster.

Was it his deformed face? His strong and stern way?

Well then, if Pan is a monster, why would he have such a beautiful face?

Monsters are ugly, evil by nature.

He is a monster, born in chaos, drowned in sorrow and cruelty.

His face is grotesque, his body made to strike fear in the bravest mortal.

His face didn’t need to be deformed, just opening his eyes, showing his teeth or lips was enough.

Being a monster was being Leshy, not Pan.

Pan had all those scars just for being good,

A good husband, a good father, a good slave, a good cat…

No, he couldn’t be a monster.

•°🪱🌿🐈°•

Leshycatpril challenge by @aniflowers @aniflowersartblog

Byeee~

[inknanda67]

Cat

lamb

[inknanda67]

Finally got the strength to finish this piece

I made it a keychain cus I'm weak