#And theres a reason I spent so much time showing the gore getting on his injury. Mans gonna have a rainbow bitemark on his leg forever now

[bunnieswithknives]

Gore, Violence and Blood under the cut

What a mess

[lakesbian]

should comment on the first (<- optimistically hoping there will be more) lamb interludes too

i like ashton so far i think it's fun to add another more Noticeably Alien Freak lamb. kindof autistic to be a fucked up biohorror lab experiment that doesn't know how to imitate people yet and consequently has no volume control & errs on the side of speaking too softly instead when you think about it.

the effect of him constantly vividly imagining peoples heads exploding for fun may be somewhat lost on me because i'm like well he's not hurting anyone so good for him.

the nonhuman visual perception was fun to read about i liked that

it has sadly occurred to me while writing this that the next time we see him it's gonna be timeskipped so far ahead that he'll be a Normal Boy and i won't get to enjoy the development phase, which seems like it should be the appeal of adding a new little vat boy to the team

his interlude segment portrays jamie 2 as a bit of an older sister. this is a win for me.

helen thoughts:

best interlude so far hands down because helen is special. one of the best Scenes At All Ever so far hands down because helen is special. it is so EXTREMELY effective to show her away from the lambs for the first time and have her casually remind that the personality she's been displaying for most of the book is an entirely calculated act for the lambs' benefit, and even the glimpses beneath it they've been getting had a heavy dosage of acting involved in the presentation. utter fucking Crocodile of a girl. it's so good

it's also extremely fucking funny for helen to be told to stop acting and respond by standing up and going "i want to gore that guy over there. Sexually."

specifically a big fan of how it's explicitly belabored that she stands up during the interrogation because she's no longer acting. like, the idea that even the most basic level of expected human behavior that would seem common sense exists only because of an act, and immediately ceases if the act does, replaced entirely by some reptilian Thing who stands up and states desire to crawl murderously into someone's mouth--that's really fucking good. and then the act goes back up and helen the Thing remains lying there underneath.

not directly from the interlude but i thought it was cute when sy explained to her that she was possibly feeling loneliness. if i was mary i would treat helen right...reptilegirls need hugs too...i would let her cuddle with me at night like a weird cat...

gordon:

i like him but he's very simple and overshadowed compared to more special individuals like helen. i'm sorry gordon

i do think it's SO fucking funny that he unironically mentally gets worried and compares him thinking mary is hot to helen talking about wanting to crawl into peoples skin and shit. teenager experiencing normal levels of teenager feelings and being like oh NO im some sort of weird intense freak pervert of the earth. like no man youre just a teenager youre gonna be okay buddy. well, you're not going to be okay, but that's for reasons unrelated to being attracted to women. that part is normal and fine.

it's nice to have confirmation that gordon is mind beaming "holy shit please shut the fuck up" at sy just as often as sy is mind beaming it at him. not that we needed it to know, given that sy receives the mind beams 95% of the time minimum (and elects to ignore them almost as often)

i like the bit abt him being a segmented stitched-together person made from composite parts & his feelings also being sort of metaphorically processed as composite parts he can pick and choose from to engage with. griffon boy...

we should kill the duke

we should kill the baron

we should kill the duke and the baron

mary: unfortunately theres not so much to say about this one because she spent 65% of it vividly imagining how she could murder people. love you mary

lillian:

it was fun to see how sy looks from someone else's perspective and then find out what the fuck he was actually doing next chapter. and like just in general fun and convincing to see how she reads him without being privy to the one million insane things he's thinking at any given second

i have to confess i was bad at actually thinking a lot about lillian during this one. one of my main thoughts was "oh good we finally have more detailed description of how sy looks." wildbow novels are cool because you have to wait until one fucktillion words in to find out that a character has long eyelashes. adding that to my list of mental notes for drawing sy

detailed descriptions of how sy kisses lillian (extremely real and true and in character for him by the way you know he was doing a death note monologue in his head about his methodology) made me remember that im going to have to read the lesbian sex scene that fails the bechdel test at some point because mary tries to imitate it and then i went 🙁and had to try to stop thinking about that.

[slasherstuff]

Brahms Heelshire:Character Analysis (1?)

Tw:Spoilers,mentions of gore and nsfw themes

Brahms Heelshire,even tho we had a little screentime of him,is a very complex character if you think about it.From showing sadistc tendecies when he killed Malcom and throwed Greta,to being polite and waiting for Greta to make his bed with his hands behind his back,to even showing some very sexual tendecies as we can see from the kiss scene and a shot where we can see used tissues besides a doll that has Gretas dress on.

Theres a high possibillity that Brahms sadistic manor began early on since he is most likely to smash his childhood friends head at age of 8(?) and then continouing those acts by killing rats and other animals that were near or in the Heelshire house and of course,other nannies he didnt like.Theres a shot in the movie where we can see a kind of torture weapons and machines hanging from the ceeling and the wall,most likely used by him.

Growing up in a high-standard family,theres no reason for Brahms to not be teached manners at young age and to continou being told to behave by his parents even after the accident possibly throu the system in the walls.He seems to respect them or at least talk respectfully to them as we can see when he talks to his parents before they go on the trip and also calling Greta lovely when asked about her.But theres a lot more layers of Brahms Heelshire under those few.

See,Brahms was never free,he never had free will.It sounds confusing since the Heelshire family was rich,so the first thing that comes to peoples mind is that Brahms got evrything he wanted.Which is true..materially only.Its pretty possible he never spent time with his parents.Not only that,but since they were a high class,it was expected for Brahms to be a good,smart and successful child.

In short,he wasnt allowed to fail.The moment he was born was the moment expectations were set for him and everything that didnt suit them wasnt accepted and the more it continoued the more it backlashed into his actions and personality.And that nay also be the reason he killed Emily.Seeing her as being the perfect child or someone who has a perfect life without any stress or worries,none the less becoming jealous of her.In the end,his sadistic tendecies getting the best of him and smashing her head,therefor also starting a fire to escape the punishment he would have gotten because of the laws.

Theres a lot more that I would like to add to this,but it wouldnt make as much sense.

TLDR;Give this boy a hug and sign him up for therapy^^

[fortunately-bi]

The Folly of Alchemists part 1

A/N:The Folly of Alchemists is an idea I’ve been sitting on for a while now, the setting is a steampunk victorian era, machines and science are just started to become a normal part of every day life, but theres still some traditional victorian factors. think if bioshock and bloodborne had a baby. the story jumps from character to character, the main three being Moira, Angela and Gabriel. more will be explained in part 2, i just wanted to throw an intro out there.

Moira O’Deorain

I’ve always been a woman of the sciences. I’ve prided myself in my accomplishments, particularly in the medical field, but I could hardly wrap my head around the machines that have so quickly become a part of day to day life. But Angela, sweet Angela, with her honey blonde hair, she knew such things better than I. She's created magnificent tools to heal people, written medical texts used by almost every scientist in modern day. She was going to save the world, I just knew it. And I’ve vowed to myself that I will help her. Though my sciences mostly involved poking around corpses, researching disease, and studying the way the human body functions and evolves, I would give all I could to help Angela.

“Moira!” The sweetness of her voice caught me completely off guard, especially while she was so high in my thoughts. I tried to hold back the rising blush in my ears, I felt embarrassed, like she could read my mind. Like she could tell how I was thinking of her.

“Ah, Angela! What brings you here? My office isn't exactly the coziest of places for conversation.” I say, gesturing to the body on the table. A murder victim, he was thirty five years of age. Something had drove his wife mad and she turned a knife on him. I was struggling to figure out just how many times she had stabbed him, his stomach was nothing more than mangled gore. The woman was now under Angelas care, the woman was showing symptoms unlike anything we've ever seen, she had also said something about wanting to try to fix her mental state. Yet another field she was good at, getting into the heads of others.

My thoughts had wondered again until Angela snapped me back to focus with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright, dear?” she asked pressing the back of her hand to my head. She had to stand on her toes to get a better look at my face. How cute. “I’m fine,” I hushed her, taking her hand in mine “My head is just in the clouds today.” I smile. I felt her hands on my chest and she leaned up closer to my face, pinning me between her and the table. “And where in those clouds might that brilliant mind be drifting to?” the softness of her voice matched her perfume, and I felt the tips of my ears begin to heat. “Darling, we are being watched.” I broke the mood, again gesturing to the body on the table that I hadn't had the second to cover since Angela stepped in. She was one for teasing me, but she was never so bold. She stared at the corpse for what felt like moments too long, before stepping away from me with a shaky laugh. Her face twisted in discomfort as I pulled the sheet over the body. I knew she was thinking of the man's wife. I knew she wasn't getting any better. And I knew how much that ate her up.

“How is-?” I began before she shook her head. “She’s dead.” she said with a heavy breath. I could feel my anxieties stir, this was going to eat at her for a long time. I put my arms on her shoulders and she leaned into my chest, I could feel her fighting back a sob. This also explained the rather bold move of pinning me between her and the table. She wanted to take her mind off of it. “Can we go home now? It's nearly midnight.” she choked, voice muffled against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. “Goodness, so late? You must be spent.” She gripped onto my shirt till I pulled away to fetch my coat.

“No cane today?” She asked, softly taking my hand after sliding my gloves on. “Not today, I feel well enough to walk on my own.” I said.

While locking up my office, Angela walked over to my horse Shadow, speaking softly to him, scratching his nose. She was always so gentle with living things, animals seemed to flock to her.

I knew she wasn't particularly fond of my form of transportation, minus Shadow. Having a carriage used to carry the dead to and from my office made for an uncomfortable, grim ride, but the fatigue weighed heavy enough in her eyes that she seemed unbothered.

The ride was very quiet, and I knew better then to push her to speak about whatever events were eating at her. At her own pace she would eventually talk about it, and that was fine with me. As we came to the turn towards her home, she clung to me. “Can I stay with you tonight?” she mumbled. I sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’ve no clothes with you for tomorrow, and you’re helpers will surely worry for you.” I wanted to give her more reasons but I could think of none, and her grumbling against my arm made it clear she was glued to the seat if it meant going anywhere without me. Not that I minded her staying with me, not that she hasn't before, but it always manages to catch me off guard when she does thing like this. Shadow grew restless, and so I jerked the reigns towards my home. I could feel her jerk awake every now and then for the rest of the ride.

It was a pleasant surprise to see Gabriel when I walked in carrying Angela. From the open cabinet and redness in his cheeks, I could tell he had been drinking. It didn't surprise me any, but I had not seen him in months after he vanished without a word. As soon as he noticed Angela, half asleep in my arms he took a step back and gave me space while I brought her to the guest room. Or so I thought till I felt the tug on my sleeve and a heard a muffled grumble. “Do you want to join us for a drink first?” I asked as she peeked one eye open at me. She shook her head and pointed at my room. “Your bed is more comfortable.” she mumbled. I don't know what I expected,  trying to bring her to the guest room. “... And I don't want to sleep alone tonight.” that caught me off guard. Something worse than she was letting on has happened. I won't push her, I shouldn't. It would only make her upset.

I helped her get comfortable on my bed and tucked her in with that fur blanket she loved. My little black cat, Brimm, wedged himself under her arms purring. Before I left the room the broach on her shirt caught my eye, the silver trim and mysterious blue stone reflecting the candle light. I thought of the day her mother died. Angela was so young, so undeserving of death. I will make sure that day never happens again.

I managed to pull away from Angela to join Gabe for a quick drink. Or what is to hopefully be only one drink. It's been almost a month since I have seen my best friend, especially in such high spirits. The stress had carved permanent wrinkles on his face last I saw him. I know Morrison was hard on him about their military ways, ways I wanted no part of and had no interest in. I knew Gabe was looking to get away from it all, find a girl or guy and travel. We were close like that at one point, but there were things we never quite saw eye to eye on, things too big to ignore. He seems happier being a free spirit, traveling as much as he can, seeing the world from a view other then down the barrel of a gun or dripping with blood. Im perfectly fine being stationary, focused on my work.

His pat on my back just about knocked the wind out of me. He smiled ear to ear, his scars and wrinkles cracking his handsome face. “So, should I assume any creaking I hear tonight is a ghost causing a ruckus in your room?” he slurred. I choked on my wine and he laughed continuing to poke at me for the way I fancied Angela. I tried to convince myself the heat in my cheeks was just the wine, but after I finished the glass I could kid myself no longer. “Enough Reyes! Now tell me, where have you been off to? What happened to that bright eyed lass who was always at your hip?” I took my turn to tease him, and at least try to find out where he's been. He left without any warning, if it weren't that it was normal for him to do so I’d be much more relieved to see him. He grunted and slurred something to himself, for a second I thought I heard him mention Morrison. “The draft caught her. She was an excellent navigator and sailor, so they asked her to join one of the navy ships.” he grunted bringing his glass to his lips. His face held something like regret across it. “If it weren't that she needed some kind of money…” I shifted. This was a very sensitive topic, Gabriel was not a rich man, he came here with nothing. He tried to flee from the war only to get pulled back into it, just on a different side. A side he very much did not have positive feelings towards. I was the one who kept them from throwing him in a cell after they found him a stowaway on a supply ship. I let him stay at my small place, only asking that he kept it clean and watched my cat while I was gone. As we became closer friends I cared less and less about how he spent his own time.

But I know he still had little money. The military pays like shit, but you can only do odd jobs here and there with the time you get away. Part of why he's stuck here is because Morrison is intent on that. My mind drifted once again, darker thoughts then the ones Angela brings. I want the war to end as badly as I want to help Angela, because ending the war means I can help Gabe. What if both sides never stop fighting? Whose blood will it take for the fighting to stop?

Gabe whistled, catching on to my head being elsewhere. He looked concerned before smiling. “It's late and you look exhausted. Your soul practically leaves your body at times when you're this tired. Go sleep, keep Angela warm.” he said with a wink as he got up and walked towards his own room. I stretched out, took one last big sip of wine before putting out the candles and the fireplace, then trudged off to my room.

I was taken aback walking into my room to see Angela standing there, seemingly wide awake. She stroked the strange blue gem on her broach, before her attention shifted to me. She looked startled to see me and I rubbed my eyes. “Oh, Angela, I thought you would still be-” she collapsed without a word, fast asleep again. Now I’m the one standing here, trying to figure out what just happened. Angela has stayed with me before, and she was no sleep walker.

I was much too intoxicated to try to figure this out right now. I lifted her back into bed, after cursing myself for being a lightweight, and struggling to get ready for bed I crawled in with her. A few minutes later I felt her wrap her arms around me, scooting closer to me. Her skin felt awfully warm, maybe she had a fever? I was too tired to check, and despite my efforts, exhaustion over took me and I fell asleep.

Angela Ziegler

She thinks I can't read her mind. And she's partially right. I can't read her mind, but i can tell when she's thinking of me. It’s like a strange pull in her direction, followed by a sudden emotion. Anywhere from a flutter in my chest, to something that, admittedly, leaves me squeezing my legs together. I’m doing my best to ignore it, such a thing reeks too much of witchcraft and brings back bad memories. Frankly I’ve had enough of both for a while.

But as I stirred awake before Moira, I couldn't escape the feeling that she was dreaming of me. I didnt know about what specifically, I could just tell she was. I crawled out of bed, grumbling at the bruises on my legs. I was getting them even here. Every morning I wake up I have more purple spots along my legs. And although I got better sleep here then I have anywhere else in a long while, I still feel as though I’ve been up all night. My legs ached.

I trudged into the kitchen and found Gabriel slumped against the counter preparing coffee, grumbling about having a headache. “Would you like me to help you with that, Gabe?” I nudged him. His face lit up and his warm laugh was comforting to hear after so many weeks. “No thank you Angela, just had too many glasses of wine with Moira last night. But it's good to know I have my own little doctor looking out for me.” he said. We talked over tea before I heard a knock at the door. Gabe motioned for me to go answer it, gripping his head and groaning at the fast paced knocks ringing through the house. When I opened the door a familiar fast paced scout was smiling brightly before me.

“Oh, Lena, what brings you here today?” I asked her before hearing a window slide open. “Hey you little prick, what did I tell you about you bringing your dashy arse up to my doorstep!” Moira shouted from a window, her accent suddenly thick. I groaned, the two were about to go at each other again.

“Oh, come now Moira, why do you always have to be like this?” Lena beamed, her smile stretching ear to ear. “Is there any reason in particular you even dislike me?” she rocked on her heels. A groan for Moira.

“Oh you fucking Brits thinking you can just go wherever you please without asking-” Moira started before Lena cut her off. “Morrison sent me.” Moira grew quiet, and even Lenas smile faded a little. “He wants to speak with you all,” she stuck her head in the doorway past me and I heard Moira run down the hall ready to chop her head off for daring. “That means you too, Reyes!” Lena shouted in the kitchen. Gabe leaned around the corner giving Lena a playful, grumpy look. “How did he even know I was here?” he groaned. Lena stuck her tongue out at him. “The Amari’s are in town, Ana saw you skulking around the shadows.” she said, pulling her head back just in time to miss a cane swinging at her head. “Moira, please, I am not at work if you crack open her skull I cannot do anything.” I said trying to keep her from escalating things, while also trying to keep my own head on my shoulders. I barely had three sips of my coffee before this all started, it was much too early for me to deal with a cracked skull. I looked at Lena who was making faces at Moira. After a disapproving grumble she stopped. “I'm assuming Morrison is wanting us to see him as soon as possible?” I asked, pushing Moira away from the door. Lena nodded, giving us a few brief details before taking off.

I watched Moira walk back to her room grunting, a limp in her step more visible today. “Moira, I know you don’t like Morrison to see it, but please use your cane today.” after a loud groan and some poking from Gabe, she agreed. I grabbed my coffee from the kitchen and joined Moira in her room. I think I’ve calmed down enough to share with her what happened yesterday. I was so tired from it all I wasn’t able to stay awake long enough to talk to her about it.

I probably should have knocked. No, I definitely should have knocked. Moira wasn’t terribly muscular, but she was lean enough from moving bodies around all day the her abs showed when she flexed. I could hardly move from the doorway at the sight of her top half bare and out while she had her boot up on the bed attempting to tie it. “Uh- I’m sorry!” I backed up only to bump into Gabe. “Am I interrupting something?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “If I recall, Morrison wants to see us immediately.” Despite the pain in her legs, Moira had her finger in his face in a near instant. “Gabe, you better watch yourself or you’ll be the next person I’m carving up in my office.” she said, before she wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me into the room. Gabe gave her a shrug before she slammed the door.

“Busy morning, is it not?” I stuttered out, trying to keep my eyes from drifting in her direction. She grumbled, still trying to tie her boots. Her head was in the clouds again, she seemed distant and focused on something other then her surroundings. I could see the pain it was causing her trying to bend down to tie her laces. “Here, let me help you.” I bent down and tied her laces but when I looked up, her face looked like it was about to crack from worry. She and I are scientists, we’ve both contributed a lot to the world in our own ways. For Morrison, a man of war, to ask to speak to us directly? The intentions can’t possibly be the best. There's also Gabe and what they might do with him now that he’s back. Her pains in her legs can’t be helping her deal with this either.

I could tell I was in her thoughts again, too. I looked up, her mismatched eyes meeting my own. I felt an incredible flutter in my chest, one that made me gasp lightly. “Are you ok?” Moira asked holding my chin up. She looked like she was about to cry, maybe this wasn’t the best time to talk about what happened yesterday. I’ll tell her later. The events of the past few hours have clearly pushed her past her limits, she had a lot on her mind, things she had no control over. I know she hated it.

It was easy to misread my intentions, me knelt down on the floor between her legs while she sat on the bed. I only wanted to comfort her, I traced circles and lines on her stomach, feeling her relax beneath me. She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m okay.” she got up and we finished getting dressed.