#I need compensation for the emotional damage

[ariadnethedragon]

Blackthorne x Mariko

SHŌGUN (2024)

[alexxuun]

That couch scene was FOUL. Gut wrenching. I knew it was going to happen but god it still hit hard the first read. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

[yomeiu]

vampire chuuya got me thinking...what if... feral?

[pyro-madder]

i'm a main characters enjoyer. but i also love a good villain (charismatic, sympathetic or just compelling). but nothing, nothing tugs at my heartstrings more than "morally grey second-in-command and leader of their elite group who could very well change sides if they weren't so blinded by loyalty"

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

I love referring to BODY BACK/Hallowed Bodies/Changing States as a trilogy now because it puts them in direct contrast with each other like harrison’s idea of a night out is embarrassing himself in full costume to don’t cha pussycat dolls & jeremiah’s is having a lot of sex & lonan’s is eating a bowl of cherries alone in his apartment while he watches supernatural

[thatrandomblogsays]

Zombie movies often have the main character/cast surviving because they were initially loners. In #Alive the main character has a family he’s clearly close with. He even hallucinates hugging his mom after 2 weeks of isolation. It feels so much more gut wrenching seeing someone fight to survive for their family only to lose them

[aroace-cat-lady]

Dude listen before I go and ily is such a sick combo wtf Billie just wtf

[herrscherofmagic]

First of all: this is absolutely amazing and I can't thank you enough for this analysis of Acheron!!

Second: I just wanted to add a mention of Honkai World Diva, which is Mei's signature song from the GGZ days when Mihoyo was literally a smol indie company; a cover of it was used in Lament of the Fallen in HI3rd!

"Crimson moon shines upon a town that is smeared in blood…" Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end -Honkai World Diva lyrics

I'm really far behind on the story and haven't even started Penacony nor seen most of the promo material, so all the little glimpses I've caught of Acheron & Black Swan content have confused me, and in general I've been losing interest in HSR's main story and have been trying to get back

but with all the context you've given in this analysis, plus the lyrics of Honkai World Diva, it feels like Acheron is a totally different character for me now

like, Mei never truly "lost" Kiana in most versions of their story. Yes in GGZ when God Kiana ended the world at the end of the Retrospective arc, but otherwise they managed to hold on and fight together for most of the time. and in HI3rd ditto, Mei never truly "lost" Kiana. She was close, yes, but Kiana endured and they reunited eventually.

So Honkai World Diva always fit Mei but in a sorta loose way, it always felt almost like a parody of Mei's actual story, y'know?

BUT NOW WITH ACHERON??? HELLO?????

Like at first in Genshin with Raiden Ei I thought her story sorta fit HWD as well because of the loss of Makoto, and the whole "red moon" thing from the Khaenri'ah cataclysm. But with Acheron it's so painfully clear in that teaser image and with all the other context you've given.

If Acheron lost her "Kiana" then all the lyrics would fit her story nearly perfectly!

O your smile is tainted and your face is cold There's no more comfort in your lips and cheeks The whirling noise is pulling me within The tainted carcass of this world

[Pre-Chorus] All the incandescent stars of heaven will die at the end of days Your gentle soul given to damnation

The death of the person closest to Acheron and the disaster in which it happened. (also... "your gentle soul given to damnation" is such a powerful line and I pray to Da Wei that we get something like that in HSR's story!!)

[Chorus] "Crimson moon shines upon a town that is smeared in blood..." Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end

[Verse 2] Lost and faded truth of bygone memories Hiddеn deep in my corrupt body

Imagery of the disaster and Acheron's despair, along with the memories being "buried away" with Acheron seemingly unable to remember neither the good nor bad of her past life; also the "corrupt body" of her white-and-red form

[Pre-Chorus] I can hear the voices of the people I miss in this final song I would tremble just to hold them once more

[Chorus] "Florid moon shines upon a world that is doomed to die..." Wailed the diva given into lament All our pale, fleeting dreams are where the truths are hidden Until they fade away

"Crimson moon shines upon the town that is smeared in blood..." Cried the diva given into lament All those sweet little dreams buried deep in memories until the very end

The mention of the truth being "hidden" in fleeting dreams, paired with the teaser when Black Swan was diving into Acheron's memories to find the "truth" about whatever happened w/ the Annihilation Gang...

obligatory post before acheron's release

obviously, it's established that acheron is a variant of raiden mei. her real name is not actually acheron (confirmed through the livestream, but...come on, we all already knew that). specifically, there's loads of similarities in her design to the herrscher of thunder above all else

similar hair structure, hair part, n hairpiece (n obviously the color, too),

sword structure, patterns, n nearly identical handles,

one "red" arm,

the bust/halter,

and of course, the color scheme as shown in acheron's "emanator" form, n the horns shown in the livestream

with all that in mind, i imagine acheron is a variant of mei who failed to save the person closest to her (her kiana, to simplify it), n/or watched them die, or even killed them herself. it's shown during her dance with black swan that there was obviously someone important to her in her past, conflict arose in a setting much like the one featured in the livestream, n there's even imagery of her walking alone with only the moon in the sky to keep her company

kiana has been associated with the moon n moon imagery since the flyme2themoon days; her origin was quite literally a game about blasting off to the moon

this teaser resembles thunders over nagazora to me, as well as mei watching kiana's end in honkai gakuen

there's also the fact that the type of emanator acheron is, an emanator of nihility, is classified as a self-annihilator; those who have felt the pull of nihility n been unable to escape drowning in it. self-annihilator's take the meaning of nihility to heart, so much so that it erodes their bodies n memories

acheron has been confirmed as the self-annihilator type in her character introduction posted recently. what really strikes me about this line is the phrasing of "existence is nothing"

sounds familiar, doesn't it?

mei is characterized by the tragedies in her life, n how they impact her. growing up isolated, a kidnapping at a young age, bullying at school, suicidal tendencies, n the constant reminder that the girl she loves more than anything in the world will always put the overall well being of humanity over herself

to me, acheron is a mei shaped by loss. the mei we remember from hi3 had the chance to grow n change; to learn from her mistakes, n to fight for a better world, bc she had the support of her friends n her most important person. acheron doesn't seem to have that level of support from anyone, at least not anyone still in her life currently

which brings me to my next point. she HAD a "kiana," but ultimately lost her. n this is the result

acheron is incredibly powerful, but her power seems incredibly volatile. she carries this innate sadness with her wherever she goes, n the very path she walks n the very aeon she became an avatar of strips life of all meaning, all the beauty from the world

it's a far cry from the mei we know, bc clearly, there was a very pivotal change in her development that i can only attribute to the loss of her world's "kiana"

[torgawl]

hi i finished ffxvi i'm destroyed ahah ✌️😭

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I think it's very fun to talk about mental health in normalizing conversations because when I was little and I would tic so hard for so long that I started crying, my mom would hold my hands and tell me to stand on her toes and she would "dance me through it" and so I would and she would spin around and around, stepping carefully so my little feet never slipped off the top of her feet, but moving fast so I would get all giggly and dizzy, and by the end she was right! My ticcing wasn't as bad anymore.

And like. I know now that it's because I was actively stressing myself out trying to stop ticcing, and since my tics are stress-reactive that obviously made it worse, but at the time I was just a kindergartener living in a world where dancing made my body stop performing the compulsions and so sometimes I would "dance myself through it" if mom wasn't around and when people maxe fun of me for it, I couldn't do that around them anymore and so I would tic more often and get more overwhelmed and there were days I wouldn't stop ticcing for hours on end because no one but my mom was willing to just let me dance through them.

But until the first time that happened, I didn't know there was anything unusual or unfamiliar to others about what I was doing. My mom was just so matter of fact about it "when you can't stopticcing, that's your body asking you to move and dance amd get the stress out" so I believed her! Of course I did. And she was right even, at least for me.

I was an adult by the time I learned that my mom ticc'd too, because she'd been doing what she taught me for so long that it was rare it happened visibly anymore, and it made sense that she'd been able to move me through my own experience so gently after that. But what if it didn't take a parent sharing our experience to be able to exist in a context that doesn't pathologize or shame what's happening?

Anyway, I've been in and out of various inpatient and outpatient programs since I was 7yrs old, and nothing did more damage to me than the people who taught my mother that there were things about my brain and body that were Wrong TM and needed fixing when she had spent the entirety of my life up to that point accommodating my needs and helping me understand how to coexist in the world on my own terms. I've benefitted from having names for things, sure, and I've had great healing and community in peer groups based around sharing those experiences. But at the end of the day, it is when those same spaces allow me to decide how to talk about what my life feels like that they have meant the most to me. I will always be grateful to the mental health care providers in my life who have been supportive of this type of care for me, but ultimately I also understand that they were able to do that because they were actively breaking down my framework of "because I experience x, I must compensate with y" into a gentler version that goes more like "because I experience x, I may need to seek out y outcome in different or unexpected ways."

I don't know why that makes as much difference to me as it does, but it does.

Anyway, I want to do for someone else what my mom did for me. I want someone else to get to feel like they can ask themselves what they need to get through something and not set any particular moral or emotional meaning to that need.

I have, among others, symmetry tics. If I experience a sensation on one side of my body, I will often reflexively try to adequately mirror it on the other side of my body. One of the pitfalls I often fall into is "the symmetry tic was actuallya different sensation and now I have to mirror THAT on the original side" and off we go into a tic spiral. The trick, for me, has been learning how to hold myself safely in the stress of the tic compulsion until the original sensation passes or fades and that allows the compulsion to fade with it. That can be hard, but taking a cue from my mom, I've found that when I occupy my body with movement, especially goal oriented but indefinite movement like dance, I have a MUCH easier time waiting for the trigger sensation to fade. I think it's good for those of us with experiences we often feel compelled to hide from view to get time in the sun. It lets us remember that our existence is not inherently side-lined in favor of other existences, and we do have the right to ask people to work with us on creating space for our own version of living. That may not guarantee us the desired outcome, but I've found that feeling you have the right to ask in the first place and actively come to the conclusion TOGETHER that there is not a solution is what seems to allow me to make those compromises without feeling erased or ashamed when I do.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 17.

Summary: Learning little things, and big things, on these summer days. About each other, and how the world sees you all, in the garden, in the family room, in hindsight, in the study late at night.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: reader, felix, venetia, and oliver getting high in the garden together, some degrading language (kind of a given any time venetia and reader are in the same room at this point), heavy discussion about the reader's parental trauma/neglect

A/N: 5812 words. i think i cast venetia in a bad light sometimes which i feel bad about because i love her to pieces, and she and the reader love each other very much its just that she's gotten used to being arguably too verbally prickly with them in order to rile her brother up mostly, and she forgets (and maybe i do too) what that looks like from the outside. anyways, just for absolutely no reason whatsoever, have you ever looked up what different flowers mean in flower language? much to think about.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Venetia rolls her joints with little hearts at the end where the filter would go if it were simply a cigarette. It's a trick she learned during what she calls her 'gap year', what Elspeth calls her 'grand wine tour of Europe', and what Felix and Farleigh have recently started cruelly referring to as 'the year Venetia inspired a TV show'. While you do think it's mean, you also quietly agree that Billie Piper bares a striking resemblance to the young Catton woman in the ads you'd seen for Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Cruel implications is all you would say on the matter, not that either of the boys had been game enough to say it to her face.

But the thought floats through your mind in this moment, taking just a moment to admire the way she's expertly curled the paper before you bring it to your lips. She watches you with that smile that tends to intimidate others, sharp and mean and hungry, sharp gaze on your lips as you inhale, lips remaining sealed as you offer the next hit to Felix on your right. Venetia's focus follows the joint, straying from you to admire the way her brother takes a hit before he too passes it on to Oliver.

Felix muses to no-one in particular about how long it's been since he'd been out here to the Fairy Ring Garden, but only gets a response from Oliver, and a strained one at that as your guest holds smoke in his lungs as long as he's able, muttering that it's beautiful. Sitting on the grass in the morning sun, you squint at the iPod in your hands, trying to choose some music.

Venetia suggests Amy Winehouse. Felix calls his sister tragic under his breath, to which she flips him off. Still, it's the best suggestion you've got so far, so moments later, the singer's rich vocals warble out of the little, portable speaker you'd plugged into the headphone port.

"Good dog," Venetia says with a particularly mean sneer in her brother's direction as she takes the iPod out of your hands to place it on the grass, replacing it with the joint you'd all been passing around once more. Out of instinct, you place your free hand on Felix's chest, telling him that whatever reaction he was going to have really wasn't worth it. Venetia rolls her eyes, "boo, you whore," she snarks, laying back on the grass.

"I'm taking the rest of this as compensation for emotional damages," you hold the joint between two fingers, telling Felix to just roll another from the kit still sitting in the middle of the impromptu circle the four of you had made. Much to both yours and Felix's surprise, Oliver moves too quickly to let him, rolling with the air of someone who'd seen it done often without having done it himself.

Both you and Felix watch him for quite a while as he stumbles through the task like a baby deer taking it's first steps. Things are getting fuzzy and warm around the edges already, and you're caught up in watching the way Oliver's hands work.

"Why 'd you put up with her?" Oliver asks bluntly, frowning at his work. Venetia's indignant 'hey' goes otherwise ignored by the three of you and it takes a long moment for Felix to respond.

"She's my sister?" But in his confusion it sounds more like a question, talking about Venetia like she's not even there. But Oliver stops, and finally looks at him; he offers a rather sad looking, clearly unfinished joint, not as an offering but as a silent request for help. Felix takes it and tries not to look too endeared by Oliver's failed attempt as he fixes it.

"Not you, Felix," Oliver, after a moment, looks away from Felix, right to you, eyes wide and earnest as he watches you take a long draft of your own joint, now burned well down. His gaze makes his intentions clear, but still he offers, "she's mean to you too." Too, like he'd pointed out about Farleigh all those months ago.

"They like it," Venetia scoffs at the sky dismissively, but Oliver refuses to acknowledge her, even if Felix takes a moment to scowl at his sister and her constant, casual degradation of you. But a slow, amused smile spreads across your lips in the moments that follow, you can't help it.

"I love that you worry about me, Ollie," you sigh almost dreamily. Clearly not expecting that, you have the pleasure of watching Oliver blush with surprise, "you're so fucking pretty, Ollie," you add, though you're pretty sure you couldn't have stopped yourself from saying that out loud if you tried. He blushes harder, while Felix and Venetia both try and stifle their giggles; you take another hit, tilting your head just a little as you look at him, analysing him. Finally, when you ask his favourite flower out of seemingly nowhere, Oliver seems like he can't function under your gaze like this, and chooses to lay back in the grass, mirroring Venetia.

"Darling, you're such a lightweight," Felix snorts, speaking from the corner of his mouth as he holds the rerolled joint between his lips as if intending to light it. Before he can flick the lighter on, however, you take his chin gently in hand, guiding him to you, pressing the still-glowing end of your own joint to his unlit one for several long seconds, until his caught successfully.

When you and Felix join your companions in laying back on the grass, you do so together. His arm is around you, coaxing you to lay with your head on his chest, beside him under this perfectly blue sky.

"Why would you want to know something like that?" Oliver's voice reminds you he's there only moments later.

"Because their robot brain needs to know everything about everyone at all times," at least Venetia sounds fond when she chimes in, even if her words aren't exactly the most complimentary.

"You're lucky you're pretty, Vee," Felix cuts in with a casually cruel tone; you can feel the way he twitches with irritation, "because you have so few other redeeming features."

"I am pretty," Venetia agrees airily, pointedly ignoring his insult, "you're such a darling brother, Felix," she adds with painfully sarcastic faux-sweetness. Felix's only response was to sigh with incredibly loud disappointment, while you tried to stifle your giggling, caught up in the sensation of him tracing abstract patterns up and down your arms, and the idea that you could count on the ever-relaxed Felix Catton to always come to your defence. Had this been the case for years? Over a decade? Yes. Would it always make you a little bit giddy to think about? Almost definitely.

"And it's not like I'm wrong," Venetia finally broached the silence once more, "as if they don't already know our favourite flowers," she points out, before making a rather insistent noise. You bark at her command, it seems - those cheerful little yellow ones on the inner ring of flowers - dismissive, but the sound of her scoff has you correcting yourself, suddenly feeling a sting of shame and not quite knowing why.

"The chrysanthemums." The other three echo the name of the flower, one right after the other, all taking turns to turn it over in their minds and mouths as you almost burn your fingers finishing off your joint. As if trying to prove yourself, you add, interrupting them all, "Fi's are forget-me-nots."

Felix seems surprised to agree, like even he'd forgotten that detail about himself, or perhaps forgotten that he'd shared it with you, while Venetia's laughter has turned fond and knowing; it's a little condescending too, like she'd expected as much from you, but you try not to dwell on it. It's Oliver's voice that you focus on, endeared as he quietly murmurs the name of the flower to himself, like he can't quite believe something as soft as Felix having a favourite flower.

"Now I'm curious, Ollie," Felix finally speaks up, and you hear the grass shift beneath his head. He must be turning to look at the man in question, "do you have a favourite flower?" He pauses for a moment, "or is this one of our weird things, like wearing cuff-links to dinner every night?" He tries to play it off, but there's those notes of self consciousness that you're surprised he often gets when talking about tradition around Saltburn.

The grass near Oliver rustles, but your comfort overrides your intrigue to watch him.

"I think it's fox... Something?" Oliver says after a moment, "my favourite flower," he clarifies, "I haven't put much thought into it," he admits. You hum thoughtfully before asking if it could be foxglove. He confirms as much before going quiet.

There's a lull that follows in which Felix asks after Farleigh's whereabouts. Farleigh should be here, your hazy mind immediately chirps, you love Farleigh! Venetia sighs, sounding incredibly put-upon to be explaining that Farleigh was in the computer room, obsessing over his ex-boyfriend's MySpace updates that he'd missed lately. The ones about the tour.

"The guy from that Broadway show?" Felix asks with vague interest.

"No, his ex-girlfriend is touring with that Broadway musical, that he knows about, that he at least pretends he doesn't care about," Venetia corrected, "the ex-boyfriend is that one from that band, the one who wrote that song about him that got nominated for that award?"

"Grammy," you supplied automatically.

"Right," Venetia barely acknowledged you, "anyways, he's on that big, American tour with all those tragic, emo bands that are a big deal, which is apparently news to our dear cousin."

"Is that the one we were all talking about getting tickets to a few months ago?" Felix asks after a moment of silence, patting you on the arm as if his words weren't enough to get your attention. You hum in confirmation.

"I think so; The Warped Tour, we were going to make a vacation of it in LA this summer," you sighed rather forlornly at how the idea never got off the ground, "it was Anabel's idea -"

"- God, she's always been such a groupie for those kinds of boy-band-types -" Felix mutters derisively under his breath as if he hadn't spent the better part of two semesters inviting her to his dorm to listen to him play guitar knowing full well she'd practically be on her knees at the very suggestion. So of course you ignored that aside to finish your explanation.

"- except she turned around and said she hated the line up, when really she didn't want to admit her passport expired and she couldn't be bothered with the paperwork for a new one -"

"Actually," Oliver chimes in, though you're not sure if he was adding to the conversation, or if he'd even been listening, "when I was a boy I got to go to this botanical garden that had all these fancy flowers usually from the rest of the world." Oh. Flowers again? Sure. "There were these ones that got flown in from Australia, and I couldn't help thinking that they weren't worth it to fly all the way over here from Australia. Too long and curly and pointy; pretty, but not the kind that..." something about the way he speaks about the experience, about the flowers, it catches in your mind; Australian, long, curly, pointy, pretty, you tried to commit to memory, "that's worth spending your time on." He clears his throat and his tone seems almost forcibly lighter, "foxgloves are prettier, wouldn't you think? Yeah..."

Silence hangs between you all for several long, pensive moments.

"What colour were they?" You ask softly.

"Foxgloves?" Oliver knows you don't mean the foxgloves. He asks anyways. Everything always for the sake of the act, the pantomime of propriety.

"No."

"Red."

There is no more that needs to be said in the moment, but later you will be grateful when the details stick through the haze of your memories. Through the quiet, Venetia mentions how she misses the purple pincushions, how sweet and strange they were, and how cruel you have been to order the gardeners to prune the flowers before they can ever bloom.

The mere mention of those purple fucking pincushion flowers sours your mood; your one regret amongst your garden, a conceit to Felix that even he wishes he could take back knowing now how much you'd end up hating them. It's been a year since a single purple pincushion has bloomed in your garden, and you've been down here at least once a day all Summer, meticulous, pruning the bulbs yourself with much malice aforethought. Part of you is so filled with fury in this moment that you consider going over and uprooting the plants by hand right now, but Felix's arm around you, Felix's chest, solid and warm beneath your head, Felix's steady heartbeat in your ear, he grounds you.

For now you must simply remain content knowing that none of Eddie's precious, purple pincushions will ever bloom upon the grounds of the Saltburn Estate again.

"Venetia," expression pinched, you address her with far more coldness than you think you've ever directed towards her before, "shut up."

You don't remember when exactly during the day you asked Duncan to fetch you all the botany-related books in the house that made mention of plants native to the Asia-Pacific region. Knowing yourself, and knowing Duncan, however, you're not surprised by the small, neat stack you find the following evening on your desk in the lilac study.

While you fully intended on continuing your trend of wearing something provocative and continuing the pantomime of propriety with Oliver as the two of you had been doing each night for almost a week, Sir James raises the suggestion of a family movie night instead. Felix whines when Venetia and Farleigh champion the suggestion of a scary movie, and pouts when they bully Oliver into agreeing with them.

"Don't ask them," Farleigh groans when you're called upon for your opinion, "they're just going to say whatever Felix said but in a different voice," he rolled his eyes. You and Felix both choosing to flick little pieces of cantaloupe at him from your desserts does nothing but strengthen his argument.

Nobody thinks to ask Poor Dear Pamela her opinion, sitting at the end of the table, looking less than thrilled by the suggestion of The Ring, so everyone else decides that you and Felix are out numbered. On the way back to your rooms to change out of your dinner clothes, Oliver tries to apologise, and Felix tries to pretend that it's fine and he's just putting it on for Venetia and Farleigh and that he absolutely does not have the temperament of a rabbit when it came to anything scary. He is, of course, lying. But Oliver doesn't realise that just yet.

Venetia, always invigorated by a social triumph such as this, and never one to let a well-earned moment of joy pass her by, tucks her arm in Oliver's as the family meets back up in the living room. The moment is not missed by either you or Felix, who both glower at her bold display of affection as she ignores you and pulls Oliver onto the sofa. The large, plush armchair next to the sofa, with it's wide, low arms almost fits both you and Felix, though it's more of a token gesture than anything. No-one is surprised when he pulls you into his lap less than ten minutes after the film begins, arms around you and watching with his chin on your shoulder, ready to hide his face against your shoulder at a moment's notice.

When the film ends and the lights come back on, Venetia finally notices how you and her brother are sitting, and opens her mouth with malicious intent in her eyes.

"Watch it," you warned her before she could say any choice, disparaging remarks, "remember who's kept you off of What Not To Wear the past six years," you remind her; Felix, giving you a little squeeze, levels a smug smile at his older sister over your shoulder. Venetia closes her mouth, expression immediately turning.

"I can't believe they're still making that show," she spits, stalking from the room. Farleigh, finally getting up and stretching, follows her out at a far more relaxed pace.

"I can't believe they're still fighting Y/N to put you on it."

With those two having left, Elspeth and Pamela both give you curious looks, Elspeth asking if it was true. You confirmed as much with a blithe shrug, finally getting to your feet.

"Years ago one of the hosts was trying to track Ven down after seeing her on a red carpet and word got back to dad - or, well, his assistant at the time - and he remembered that I'm pretty close with the Cattons," you gave a humourless smile, offering Felix your hand to help him up from the sofa, which he gladly took, "however Ven was deeply offended when I asked her if she wanted to be on the show," Felix let himself chuckle at that, while Oliver was taking longer to stand, strange look on his face as he listened to you with surprisingly rapt attention.

"And they've been, what, continuing to ask after her even though she's said no?" Elspeth frowned, but you sighed, shaking your head.

"No, apparently Ven sent in a particularly rude letter despite me informing them of her refusal, and now dad's assistants seem to think I'm her agent and I get a call every time the show is threatening to add her photo to a montage of worst-dressed celebrities."

"Didn't she freak out when you refused to get an episode pulled when they actually did it?" Felix snorts, to which you rolled your eyes.

"That's why dad's assistants keep calling me, because of how she reacted to that episode."

You do feel a little bit bad for Venetia in this moment, when you see the resigned disappointment in both her parents' eyes at the story. The rest of you do finally filter out at this point, all heading back to your separate rooms. The walk is quiet for the most part, except for when Oliver, who'd been looking as though he was ruminating very hard on something, looks to you.

"Y/N, what does your dad do for work?"

You know and hate that Oliver sees the moment in which his question makes you uncomfortable, no matter how much you try to not let it, nor how desperately you try to hide it. Shrugging as you desperately shoot for casual, you sigh.

"I'm pretty sure your guess is as good as his," you say blithely, so casually evasive that Oliver doesn't really think to call you out on it before you get to your room. But after you and Felix wish him good night and head into your room, you close the door and slump against it with a heavy sigh. Felix lets you have this moment of respite to yourself, quietly moving about the room, getting ready for bed.

"Do you think they'll even show up?" Finally Felix breaks the silence, and you just make a vague noise, "to the dinners they told mum they'd be at," he clarified after a beat.

"Probably," you muttered, dejected at the prospect as your mind wanders to the couple who reluctantly created you.

"They asked about you," you admit to Felix quietly. From what you can hear, he stops, "mum, specifically," the memory of the phone call with your grandmother burned bright in your mind; it wasn't particularly recent, had happened at the start of your last semester, but you'd kept it to yourself for so long. You'd tried to disconnect yourself from it, tried to take solace in your grandmother's fury on your behalf, but you feel your face heat up with your own anguish, "asked how you were and if you were still living in 'that beautiful house with the Reubens and all those royal portraits'," voice trembling with both heartache and resentment, you slide down the door, tears welling even as you had your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Nan sounded so angry when she told me," you whispered, knees drawn up to your chest, "I've never heard her like that; she made it sound like she yelled at mum for- for- for ages -" you feel when Felix settles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. This is when you finally break, when you finally let yourself cry, whimpering, "but I bet mum just hung up on her the minute she felt like the fucking victim."

Felix isn't the one who needs to be apologising right now, but part of you knows you'll never get one from the people you crave it the most from. Still, he apologises with his lips against your temple. You know your best friend well enough to know his heart is breaking for you, and fuck you wish you had been strong enough to push back this breakdown, but you couldn't -

"She asked for you by name, Fi, full name," you sobbed curling up in his arms, burying yourself against him in your misery, "they haven't spoken to me or about me in eleven years; they haven't even said my name- they've acted like I don't exist to everyone - everyone - even to my own grandmother for eleven years!"

There's no easy sleep that can be found after a revelation like this, but Felix, even after he manages to drift off, is unwilling to let you go, unwilling to let you feel even the slightest bit alone for the rest of the night. It continues through the next day, even as you assure him you're fine, that you're glad for his comfort but that you've overcome the despair that had hit you so tremendously last night. It's not even much of a lie.

You spend the day with the family who'd taken you in without hesitation, and feel a swell of pride within you as you hear Oliver comment enthusiastically on the Palissy plates Sir James had always loved dearly. You yourself vaguely recall the plates getting a page to themselves in the very book you'd gifted Oliver about Saltburn, so you were glad to see him putting it to good use.

A little white lie about how deep Oliver's love for Palissy genuinely was really wouldn't hurt anyone. Honestly, it was worth it for just how brightly Sir James' eyes shined at one of Felix or Venetia's friends finally taking an interest in his antiquities like that.

But all day, Felix was never too far away. Not that he was incredibly obvious about it, at least not from anyone else's perspective, but you could tell. Quietly, you were grateful, even if you were still trying to convince the both of you that you were okay. Something about being able to just lean back and know he'll be there in times like this, times where you need him to be there but don't know how to say it out loud, is a comfort you never want to take for granted.

You want to thank him but it gets caught in your throat. But standing on his balcony as the sun sets, sharing a cigarette, you take his free hand for this one, quiet moment. Your voice is full of affection, full of thanks, full of love, too much for you to even look at him, focus kept on your hands, your fingers laced with his.

"My Felix."

"Always, love," he kisses your forehead.

That night, the only time you are without him is when you end up in the lilac study, wondering if Oliver will even show up after last night broke the tradition. Either way you'd use the time to continue to go through your botany books on the hunt for red, curly, pointy, Australian flowers. You keep seeing bottle brush but something in your heart said it wasn't right. However long you'd actually spend perusing the books tonight would depend on if you had company.

But eventually Oliver does choose to darken the doorway with that hungry-eyed stare you've never seen in the light of day, and you take your time with noticing him. Tonight you're lounging on the cream sofa in one of Felix's shirts, not even bothering to do the buttons up; you've pulled it mostly close for a pass at modesty, considering the only other thing you're wearing is underwear.

"'re you seducing me?" He sounds amused; you're surprised by how quickly he cuts to the chase, but you try not to let it show.

"Is it working yet?" You turn another page of your book before you finally look up, playing almost at boredom. Oliver, barely visible for the lamp light, the gallery beyond him nothing but shadows, huffs a laugh at that, and for reasons you can't quite understand, he drops his gaze. He breaks the moment, the rules of the game. Oliver doesn't look away, he never has before.

"You trying to get me in trouble?"

"Depends on what you consider to be trouble," your smile grows wider as you carefully set your book to the side, fixing your intrigued gaze upon Oliver properly, "perhaps I'm saving you from trouble." In a sense, the more nights you can get him to spend here with you, the less he's falling prey to Venetia's planting herself beneath his window you're sure she's doing, just as she had with Eddie a year ago. At least this time you've learned.

"I think you may very well be the trouble," Oliver looks up, just in time to see your wicked, delighted grin.

"Then I am definitely trying to get you in trouble," you don't even hesitate before firing off the inuendo, smiling wide and proud at your own quick wit. The sight of Oliver's very genuine smile and laugh catches you off guard too; it'd been so long since you'd seen it, you forgot how taken you were with him when he lit up like that. Then, as the laughter died down, Oliver walks in, he sits with you, lets you lean against him.

"You've been saying a lot of..." he hesitates, turning to you. Oliver wears a strange, lopsided smile, but from the corner of your eyes you see something reserved in his gaze as he takes in the sight of you in this moment, "generous things about me." He's too close to miss the way your breath catches. Venetia and Farleigh are dirty fucking snitches, "'s alright-" he tries, but there's clearly some kind of reservation in his voice as he staves off your stammered apology, "knew what I was getting into, didn't I?"

With Oliver's arm around you, you can't help but wonder aloud -

"Did you?"

"I thought I did," he admitted softly, and you tipped your head onto his shoulder, then you feel him shift, feel his lips on your forehead and voice soft, "I think I thought I'd be alright anywhere if I was with Felix." For reasons you try very hard not to think about in this moment, Oliver's words sting.

"Oh," it almost gets caught in your throat; your traitorous heart sinks in your chest for just a moment. Except Oliver gives you a squeeze, holds you tight as he seems to realise his mistake.

"Of course you're a given," it almost salvages the moment, and of course you feel as though you have to act like it does, but there's something tight and unfamiliar balling up in your chest. "Felix loves you," Oliver sounds almost wistful, words coming out more like a faint breath, but perhaps it's this strange new feeling in your chest that makes him harder to read in this moment.

"He loves you too, Ollie," you tell him, forcing yourself to inject some levity into the moment. This time it's you who moves, who turns your face to Oliver, forehead against his as you muster up the warmest smile you can manage, pressing against him, making a show of overwhelming affection, "we both do," of course, your tone says, obviously.

And Oliver actually giggles at that, so it must work. In the next moment he's pulled you into his lap. It's so easy for you to readjust, to fit in his arms, in his space, against him, like it's where you were always meant to be.

"Is that you talkin' or Felix talkin'?" Oliver asks finally when you've got your arms settled around his neck, "I don't mind, I'd just like to know."

"What 'd you mean?" You ask, curious about the wording and it's implications. Oliver visibly hesitates, though he seems more embarrassed for whatever was about to come out of his mouth than anything else.

"Speakin' with Venetia made me realise how little I actually know about you," Oliver says carefully. Almost immediately your expression sours, and a long, exasperated sigh is pulled from you, "she's a deeply confusing woman, isn't she?" He adds almost like an afterthought, and you barked a quiet laugh.

"That is a very kind way of putting it," you offered diplomatically after a beat, before letting go of Oliver and leaning yourself back against the arm of the sofa, considering your next words carefully. His hands come to rest on your stomach, but you're surprised when he does up two of the buttons of Felix's shirt, providing you with a little more modesty. Then, his hands come to rest on your stomach and thighs, warm and unmoving.

"You're a deeply confusing individual yourself," Oliver pushes softly, "when I think about you too much, I realise there's not much to think about, least nothin' you've told me," and you hum noncommittally, looking up at the ceiling. The next words that escape you are from a script you'd thought was long buried.

"Yeah but that's kind of the point; I'm not really meant to matter, or be looked at, or thought about -" the words seem to shock even you, eyes going wide as you look to Oliver. The intensity of his stare has your heart hammering against your ribs as you try to back pedal, "sorry- that's not- I mean- sorry, that's really not, anymore that is -" you didn't even believe that anymore, right? Your place in the world as impressed upon you by your own parents for the first ten years of your life. Surely having spent more time by now with Felix and the Cattons than you ever had with them was enough to rewrite a good deal of the cruel way in which you'd been hardwired.

Oliver reaches out, caressing your cheek with that confident smile he only ever seemed to wear when the sun couldn't see him. He tells you that you matter, with absolute sincerity. Then, expression lightening to something fond, even teasing, he warns you not to let Felix catch you talking like that, that his love for you was the kind that would have him throwing a parade just to prove that self-doubt wrong. It was a nice mental image, if only for a moment. You, Oliver, Felix, not necessarily a parade for you per say, but a mess of colour and joy and music in the city, together and happy and -

"I don't know if you'd want that," Oliver's grin is fading, and finally you sit back up, let yourself be wrapped up in him as he continues to trail his fingers across the edge of your face, down your throat, across your collar, "but then again Venetia thinks you don't even know how."

"How what?" Voice barely more than a whisper, you know he can feel how quick your heart's beating, his hand flat and warm on your sternum.

"How to want for yourself, 'least not anything outside of Felix," he keeps his gaze trained on his hand, heel of his palm pressing firmer just over your heart, "which is why I asked; you said you loved me, is that you or Felix talking when you say that?" And finally he looks at you. That tight, sharp feeling in your chest spikes when he meets your gaze. He looks so earnest, so open, so ready for either answer.

But you stand, leaving both yourself, and Oliver's lap cold, but hoping your smile is warm enough compensation. Except you can hear in his voice that he believes Venetia; she'd confirmed what he'd suspected, it's what he left unsaid the night you'd slept with each other. The only thing you wanted was so easily met; to be wanted, and seemingly content with nothing more outside of Felix. A contented sycophant, easy to please and happy to be used; you knew the world was happy with this being your place in it.

And the more you think about it, the more you think Oliver is too.

"Of course it's Felix," you tell him what you're almost certain he wants to hear. No need to scare him off with the expectations of your own feelings on his shoulders. Oliver watches you for a long moment, simply observing as you smile wider, and hope that it comes across as adoring, "which means of course I do love you too, that's a given, Ollie." The sharp discomfort is scraping at your ribs, more painful with each word, hollowing out your chest moment by moment, so you bid him good night, unable to bare the conversation for much longer.

"Just one favour, by the way, if you could," you add by the door. He makes a noise of intrigue, but you can't even bring yourself to look at him. It'll be another just person looking at a placeholder while they're waiting for Felix to be ready to love them back. Usually you don't mind. Usually it's enough and you can still enjoy their company and have your fun. But they aren't Oliver Quick, "just... please refrain from properly fooling around with Venetia? I know I sound like a hypocrite but," you take a deep breath, smiling wide enough that you don't even have to see Oliver, "it kind of goes back well beyond just you."

The next morning, stopping into the study before you head down to breakfast, you intend to collect the book you'd finally found those red flowers in. Top of your pile, you'd left it open on the very page. But you find that someone has turned the page. Scabious, in full bloom, mocking you, surely.

The botany book lay like a bitter seductress on your desk, left open, pages spread and staring up at you; purple fucking pincushions.

[femaleboysblog]

@calcar

oh okay

[oct0bra1ns]

I wanna make yan!zombie cry so badddd😭😭 what are the things that darling has done to make zombie cry?

POOR YANDERE ZOMBIE PLS😭 In canon as of yet, not really anything BUT i can give you small scenario as compensation.

For as long as Yandere Zombie had been turned, you had always accepted how clingy they were towards you, perhaps it was the sudden change of losing their bodily autonomy that made them cling to something or anything that was familiar. That something was of course, you.

But as of lately, their clinginess was getting to you, you tried, as much as you could to try and just deal with it, not wanting to hurt your partner. You were never a calm and collected person, the both of you knew that, but you promised them at the very start of the relationship, never once would you ever raise your voice at them, you knew first hand the kind of damage it brought, growing up seeing your parents hurl profanities at each other and taking the rest of their anger out on you. You would never want to inflict that pain upon them, you are better than your parents.

or at least you thought you were.

You watched Yandere Zombie as they stumbled back, eyes widening as they processed what just happened, for the you pushed them away, you..you hurt them, you of all people, you who swore to never hurt them was glaring at them.

"For once I want to be left alone! Ever since you turned, you've been so incredible clingy. I'm tired of it, I have other things I need to do, I can't have you chasing me like a lost puppy. If it weren't for the fact that you had some semblance of your humanity, I would have let you to rot ages ago." You seethed, slamming the door as you left.

Tears streamed down Yandere zombies eyes. They clutched their chest, trying to keep their sobs quiet, what if you thought of them as incapable, even more than you already thought them to be.

The room seemed to close in on them. They crumpled to the floor, knees giving way beneath the overwhelming tide of emotions. A guttural wail escaped their lips, a raw expression of the pain etched into their soul.

[letmereadinpeace4]

Love Sea episode 1 Commentary

So yesterday the first episode of Love Sea was released. After watching it, I decided to put down my thoughts and impressions. Hopefully I can keep it up until the end of the drama.

First, a few things:

I have bought and read the Love Sea novel. I will try my best not to spoil anything, but this knowledge informs my perception and my commentary. I have also read Love Sand, which chronologically happens before Love Sea, and I will spoil minor plot points if I think they can help understand elements in the drama.

There will be no Mame hate in this post, or in any other posts.

With that out of the way, let’s start:

The drama opens by separately introducing the main characters. Masahamut is diving, checking and noting damages, while Tongrak is on his way to the island, wearing the most impractical travel outfit he could have possibly worn. We learn that his stay on the island was booked by Connor Warrington, a close friend of his.

The character introduction is pretty well done. Masahamut is set up as a character who deeply cares about the well-being of the island he lives on. He is shown interacting with his friend Palm (they are not biologically related, they are senior/junior) and we get an impression of someone who communicates well with others and has a joking, playful side to him. Meanwhile, Tongrak is shown alone, even as he talks with Connor, we do not hear his replies, so we get the sense of someone cut off from other people. His outfit is also very fancy, showing his financial comfort, but also wildly impractical, showing that he is not very down to earth.

To explain who the characters are in the Mame universe, Masahamut is the best friend of Khom, who is Type’s childhood friend (from Tharntype). Khom is dating Connor, who is close friend with Tongrak. Tongrak is also a novelist, and his novels have been adapted by the movie director Aphros, who is Prapai’s uncle and the director who inspired Sky after his breakdown (not going to lie, with all those connections, I am low-key surprised that the closest we ever got to incest was Tum and Tar’s relationship).

At the docks, Tongrak is not exactly impressed with the place he will be staying at. We have it confirmed that Connor booked his stay because Tongrak’s next novel will be about the ocean (Connor my beloved I love you so much you asshole). Masahamut meets Tongrak at the docks and decide to piss him off by speaking in a Southern accent and not driving an appropriate vehicle to transport his suitcases. After Tongrak blows a fuse, Masahamut cuts him off and borrows a cargo tricycle.

This develops the characters a bit further. Tongrak shows a rather childish side and a lack of control over his emotions, while Masahamut’s confidence and capacity to adapt is set up. We also see more of his playful, “troll” side. I also like how his popularity on the island is subtly shown by having him borrow a bike from someone with no issue whatsoever. People trust him!

Tongrak immediately calls Connor to complain and demands to go home, further showing his childish, needy side. We get to hear Connor, who is mostly amused. Meanwhile, Masahamut unloads Tongrak’s suitcases with an amused expression and grabs the phone to chat up with Connor.

For more explanation about Connor and Masahamut’s relationship, they met when Connor stayed at the island for the holiday. He met Khom, who was working as Masahamut’s assistant and as Connor’s guide, and Masahamut helped Connor in his pursuit of Khom (in exchange for monetary compensation. Truly a win/win situation for everyone involved).

I love how entertained Masahamut is with Tongrak’s prissiness. He doesn’t care or take it personally, just rolls with it and takes advantage of it to troll him.

Masahamut escorts Tongrak to his room, who immediately pushes him out and ignore his offer to be at his disposal if he needs anything.

Sidenote, but I love Tongrak raging against the suitcase and later at the blankets. It is so cute, childish and relatable at the same time. I have definitely “scolded” a zipper because it wouldn’t open or the printer because it had issues.

We cut to Mook, Tongrak’s assistant/secretary, who is looking very busy and overworked. She is so far the most relatable character in the drama for me, down with the messy hair. She is called by Vi, Tongrak’s best friend, who promises to keep her busy. I love her, she is such a troll! Also a cameo appearance by Ja, which is definitely great to see! Hope he’s been well!

We cut back to Tongrak as he goes to a bar, wearing a really awesome sheer shirt and enjoying the attention he gets. Palm is his waiter, and immediately start hyping up Masahamut. We get confirmation that Masahamut is really popular both with the residents and with the tourists. We also learn that he is bi, which is great! We always love to see bi representation.

Tongrak seems pissed both at the fact that Masahamut is popular and by the fact that people would assume he is attracted to him, which he is definitely not! One hundred percent not! Not a trace of attraction here! Who cares if Masahamut is handsome anyway? Not him that’s who! And his sulking has nothing to do with it.

Next morning, we get to see how much Masahamut is involved in his community. While it may seem a bit heavy-handed, I do like that this aspect of Masahamut is so strongly enforced. It gives him a lot more depth and shows his maturity.

This mature impression is immediately countered when we see that he has a double of Tongrak’s keys and didn’t tell him. He immediately takes on the caretaker role and as he cleans up the room, we learn that Connor paid Masahamut to serve as Tongrak’s caretaker/nanny/guide/sitter during his time on the island. Is it like some kind of gift reciprocity? Masahamut helped Connor date his best friend so Connor helps Masahamut get with his own friend? I also really like the comparison of Tongrak to a cat. It suits him so well. We also have it mentioned again that Tongrak is very lonely (initially, Connor filled that loneliness void, but once he started dating Khom, he could no longer give as much attention to Rak as he used to, hence why he is trying to find a solution.)

Connor wakes Tongrak up. Not going to lie I would punch him! Do not bother me before I had my tea and breakfast! As he tries to punch him Tongrak falls on the ground, giving Masahamut a perfect view of his body.

The “seduction” scene is really well-done. You can see the switch as Tongrak finds himself in a more familiar territory and tries to seduce Masahamut by removing his robe/shirt. He really seems to enjoy having power over Masahamut, especially since the latter has annoyed him so much. However while Masahamut is admirative, he does not lose his head and starts commenting on Tongrak’s lack of body hair. You can really see the switch back as Tongrak loses his confidence. Peat acted really well in that scene!

I love how offended Tongrak is by Masahamut’s lack of sexual interest. Poor kitty got his pride hurt! Speaking of which I also love how Masahamut speaks of Tongrak like a kitty he is taking care of.

Tongrak tries to provoke Masahamut by constantly asking for a different breakfast and being picky, to no success. I always enjoy seeing Tongrak’s bratty side, especially when his brattiness doesn’t work.

Masahamut is such a troll! I love him already!

Meanwhile, Tongrak has found out a way to get Masahamut to do what he wants (to some extent). He pays him to get him to speak in a Central dialect. It really sets well the economic difference between them. Tongrak has money to burn and Masahamut will do anything for money. I love how much he doesn’t care about being bought and getting money from his clients. Masahamut is there singing “Material Girl” and doesn’t care about what anyone thinks!

I love it any time Tongrak’s more vain side is shown. The way he jumps when Masahamut mentions wrinkles. Also he is supposed to be in his late twenties/early thirties.

Masahamut offers his sexual services and can obviously see that Tongrak is more interested than he lets on. “Even if you were the last man on Earth, I still wouldn’t want you”. Oh hey! I heard a cool girl named Elizabeth Bennet say the exact same thing. I wonder what happened to her….

We cut back to Mook rehearsing her speech to Vi to not have to work as her assistant. By the way I love her shirt! As she dares Vi to call her, she answers her prayers and does so! We get to see that Mook has an itemized list of how to deal with Vi! That is some thoroughness! Anyway Vi claims a light bulb in her room is busted and that Mook needs to come and change it. I see Vi subscribes to the “pulling her hair” strategy in courtship. Meanwhile Mook is getting more and more erratic and her faces are amazing! She looks offended, outraged and confused at the same time. Also I love how messy her hair is.

“I’m a frail lead actress who can’t do anything on her own” as she sits on the ladder she used to bust her own light bub to get her crush to come to her place! I love Vi she’s such a troll! Also does she have Mook’s picture? I can’t really see well.

In his room, Tongrak is having trouble writing the sex scene and we learn he needs to have sex or to hug someone to properly write sex scenes. It really is interesting that Tongrak needs an intense physical situation to describe a romantic sex scene, because it suggests that he cannot conceptualize the intensity of the emotions involved unless he experiences a “similar”, physical sensation. It really goes with him being lonely but also suggests he never truly offered his heart to anyone.

The next day, Tongrak is working on his novel, looking extremely cute with his round glasses, while Masahamut is waiting. He soon gets bored and starts reading what Tongrak is writing. I wonder if the sex scene he reads out is a random scene that was written especially for this or if it was taken from another of Mame’s novels. I cannot place it.

Anyway Masahamut is bored of it and takes Tongrak on a boat to show him around. I love how Masahamut gently scolds Tongrak and tells him to sit properly so that he doesn’t fall, causing Tongrak to sulk. It sets up their future dynamic. Also Masahamut don’t scold the kitty! He’s a city kitty and has never been on the sea before.

Tongrak is called by Mook and doesn’t hear her well. Yeah in the middle of the sea it is a lost cause. Masahamut decides to take a dive while Tongrak is on the phone, causing him to panic. I actually agree with Tongrak here! For safety reasons Masahamut should have warned him.

Tongrak freaks out and starts crying. Masahamut tries to reassure him by poiting out that he’s fine but is unsuccessful. I love how he takes the freak out seriously and only reaches to touch him after Tongrak has been unresponsive. Tongrak scolds him and Masahamut reaches out to hug him and apologize. I love the light little kiss on the forehead and how Tongrak slowly accepts Masahamut’s hug.

Afterwards, Tongrak is embarrassed about his crying episode (don’t worry baby it happens to the best of us) and plays the shy Victorian maiden when Masahamut moves to remove his shirt as if he didn’t wear a sheer shirt in public two days before. Masahamut offers to show him the good stuff, and just like Tongrak I was not thinking of clams when he said that! Again, I love how confident Masahamut is! He is aware of his charm and sees well the effect he has on Tongrak. The episode ends with them still on the roof of the boat.

Overall I really enjoyed this episode. It was a good set up for the characters and I love the atmosphere they created. I look forward to seeing more of it.

[centrally-unplanned]

Just finished The Coffin of Andy and Leyley - at least the two episodes we have so far! A very fun game, I definitely recommend it. The thoughts, spoilers everything:

-- The tone of the game is extremely on point, Andrew & Ashley have such a great trauma-criminal dynamic that never strays too far from being cute first, awful second. Look at these babies! Of course that is the blood of their parents they just murdered for a satanic ritual and/or petty cash, what else would it be?

-- The game nails a pretty niche fetish of mine - no, not the incest part, no judgement but I could do without that just fine. Instead its the weaponization of sex (and other forms of intimacy) to manipulate and break down someone's resistance to your demands:

But, while no shade thrown at the classic controlling doms out there, Ashley wins by being a complete mess and possessing minimal intentionality around her emotional blackmail. Her toxic codependency on Andrew controls her and, as inevitable as the tide, forces her to periodically hurt & degrade him, then compensate via affection bombs & demands. She thrives on his weaknesses such as trauma-nightmares & anxiety as they are places she can slot herself into his pysche as load-bearing support, and sex is set up as another part of that web. Its that lack of control that makes her so attractive - the vast emotional void she is hoping her manipulations will fill is a funhouse mirror version of the physical need intimacy can fulfill.

I will note she is a slightly different from the "Mamimi" (from FLCL) archetype - for the Mamimi, sex is deontological, it is what she needs to cope with her damage. For Ashley it's instrumental, and could be swapped out for another tactic as quick as an outfit change if doing so got her what she really wanted.

Probably also worth mentioning that this isn't an eroge; this dynamic is primarily implication and subtext, becoming text only rarely. Don't want to mislead anyone there.

-- Another standout point is that Andrew himself is *not* the typical wishy-washy boytoy target of his bae's emotional machinations, but instead exactly as toxically codependent as Ashley is, just expressed differently. He thrives on her sense of need and the comfortability of the dyad role her vision for their lives creates for him. What makes him a fun contrast is that he has a "normal" half of his brain that recognizes all of this as fucked up and wants to quit, which often pretends he is being blackmailed by duty or circumstances, but that isn't really true. Where the game excels is that it has multiple routes - neither of which have notably different plot events, but where the different factions of Andrew's brain win out or fade away. Is very tight marriage of narrative and themes.

-- Its also good to add that the incest concept is somewhat foundational. I am not an incest person but I have been on the internet, I am familiar enough with its semiotics, and the "mutual, similar-age, unhealthy codependency" subgenre of relationships when its not incest always struggles with a bit of a believability issue.

So narratives are generally about arcs, sex is about build-up, and that combination means you want to portray the moment a relationship forms, tips into romance, right? And your subjects of choice are two people who constantly cling to each other, destroy outsiders who could challenge their attention monopoly, and psychologically scar each other in order to foster emotional addiction. And they are ~20 yeas old.

Why aren't they fucking already?? They obviously should be fucking. If these were childhood friends, they would be fucking, for years now, easy. You can say they just haven't gotten there yet but that changes the characters, makes them naïve and innocent, that is a narrative constraint you might not want. But if they are siblings...well then there ya go. That is a socially-ironclad excuse for how they got so emotionally close without romantic intimacy, and a reason for them not to cross the threshold (until your plot events make them ofc). Its a fetish that makes your storytelling efficient, not just something that works on the fetish level directly.

(Btw Andrew is not a doormat; that is a lie he tells himself)

-- The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a classic RPG Maker indie project, and it used its gameplay conventions well. Its essentially a visual novel with RPG exploration elements that offered small puzzles as you traverse from plot point to plot point. They create immersion while rarely being too difficult and dragging down the pacing - it knows they aren't here to intellectually challenge you, but to make the world feel lived. And sometimes - most often in Ashley & Andrew's dreams - the light puzzle elements are very deeply woven into the plot & themes, used for making narrative choices & reinforcing emotional beats. They rarely overstay their welcome, which is refreshing. Its not uncommon for a game to get into trying to "gamify" what should just be a visual novel, and while not perfect Coffin doesn't fall into that trap.

Additionally the creator definitely likes Undertale, and the dream sequences remind me of Flesh, Blood, & Concrete in their colors & abstraction. Good times!

-- It is extremely amusing to google this game for like ending guides or w/e and to be bombarded with the "controversy" of its incest plotline. A: The main duo murder their parents and nonchalantly make a meal of their bodies out of sheer habit, way to not have your eye on the prize. And B: my brother in Christ you clicked on the Incest Game. Why are you on Pornhub complaining about porn??