Aventurine meeting himself from a parallel universe but they’re just a lil bit… different…
On the surface, he’s the same, gone through the same things too. But once he trusts someone and the usual suave facade is down, he’s a bit hyperactive and a different type of unhinged. Not the normal “I love risking my life” Aventurine unhinged. It’s the backing you into a corner, ominously looming over you “have you ever had the desire to tear into someone’s flesh? To feel someone’s bones crack between your jaws?” type of unhinged
Could I maybe please get some headcanons for smth like this?
Two Faces, One Lie
Tags: Aventurine Headcanons, Parallel Universe AU, Psychological Horror, Self vs. Self, Duality of Man, Charisma as a Weapon, Manipulative Behavior, Glamour Horror, Slow Burn Madness, Power Dynamics, Mind Games, Unhinged Parallel!Aventurine, Homoerotic Subtext, Dark Mirror, Emotional Whiplash, Unreliable Narration, Trauma Bonding, Morally Grey Characters, Internalized Monstrosity, Flirting With Madness.
Warnings: Psychological manipulation, Mentions of cannibalistic ideation (e.g., references to tearing flesh, breaking bones), Graphic language describing violence, Unstable behavior/mania, Dark mental health themes (e.g., survivor’s guilt, religious trauma, emotional detachment), Mentions of past abuse/slavery/systemic cruelty, Power imbalance/coercive undertones, Moral ambiguity and lack of clear hero/villain roles, Body horror (implied/described), Implied PTSD/Dissociation, Possible identity breakdown/Derealization themes, Homoerotic tension under duress.
When Aventurine first meets his parallel self—identical in voice, mannerisms, and charm—he’s fascinated. Of course he is. It’s like meeting a version of himself with the volume cranked up just a little too loud.
But the moment this other him leans in with eyes a little too bright, smile a little too wide, and says something like, "You ever think about what it would feel like to peel someone's skin off... just to see what's underneath?"—he goes still.
That’s when he realizes: this version didn’t just survive. He devoured everything that stood in his way.
OG Aventurine (our Aventurine aka my husband /j) hides behind flair, flair, and calculated charm. Parallel!Aventurine uses charm like a knife. He’s more tactile, more impulsive—laughing when things bleed, tilting his head when people cry. Not out of malice, but curiosity.
OG!Aventurine is unnerved, because he recognizes that darkness. He’s just better at pretending it isn’t there.
They inevitably play a game of chance—cards, roulette, something with stakes. But it’s less about the win and more about observation. They use the game as a way to pick at each other’s armor.
Parallel!Aventurine drops barbed comments like, “I remember how your sister screamed. Do you still pretend you don’t?” Just to see if it lands.
OG!Aventurine keeps smiling… but his left hand stays hidden behind his back the entire time.
They both smile constantly, but the meaning behind it is worlds apart.
OG's is disarming, sly, performative.
Parallel!Aventurine's smile is manic, hungry, twitching at the corners like a predator’s.
Watching his counterpart flash that grin while calmly discussing human anatomy in disturbingly sensual detail gives OG!Aventurine a cold feeling he doesn’t have a name for.
(He later decides it might be recognition.)
Parallel!Aventurine isn’t cruel—not exactly. He’s affectionate. Too affectionate. He touches often, leans too close, says things like, “I missed you, you know. You're the only one who understands.”
There’s a longing in him that’s real… but warped. It feels like being wanted by something starving.
Parallel!Aventurine voices the thoughts OG!Aventurine shoves down—the guilt, the rage, the obscene hunger for control masked as luck.
“We’re not afraid of dying. We’re afraid of being powerless again. Admit it.”
It’s not just uncomfortable—it’s invasive. Because it’s the first time OG!Aventurine can’t manipulate the person across from him.
The tension is electric. It's not quite flirtation, not quite hostility. They circle each other like rivals, brothers, lovers, enemies—every line blurred.
One moment: calm, sharp banter.
Next moment: Parallel!Aventurine has him backed against a wall, whispering about the sound of a spine cracking under pressure like he’s describing a fine wine.
OG!Aventurine, cornered, murmurs, “You're me at my worst, aren’t you?”
His counterpart only replies, “No, darling. I’m you when no one’s watching.”
If they ever work together? It’s terrifying. They don’t even need to speak. One lays the bait, the other tears into the prey. A perfect storm of chaos wrapped in charisma.
But OG!Aventurine never quite trusts him. How can he? You can’t play poker with someone who always bets the entire house—and doesn’t care if it burns down.
Parallel!Aventurine will say something profound in a sudden moment of clarity, like:
“Do you ever wonder what we would’ve become if someone just hugged us… instead of branding us like cattle?”
Then he'll immediately pivot to, “Anyway, I drowned a man in wine last week. Beautiful gurgle.”
It leaves Aventurine disoriented. Not because it’s shocking—but because it’s familiar.
Deep down, Aventurine fears this version of himself is not an alternate future.
He’s a possibility—a version he could become if he stops pretending to care, if he stops drawing the line at manipulation and lets the hunger win.
That terrifies him more than death.
Because if that mask ever slips completely? He’s not sure he could put it back on.
Well, the big reveal has been made and it’s a giant weight off my shoulders. Now I’ve written one of the mysteries to its solving and can focus on the much more exciting one. Both are valid and equally important, but this story is two-pronged, and let’s face it, the side of it that’s exciting and swashbuckling and conspiratorial is much funner to write than the emotional side.
Yes, I believe funner is a word and you can’t convince me otherwise.
Anyway, now I don’t have to trudge through the exposition worrying about how to break it to the other characters. It’s done—time to keep up that pace and set the novel rolling toward the more exciting parts.
I can tell—I have been able to tell since the beginning—that this first part is going to need major overhauling, as well as the few paragraphs I just wrote because they are wildly pretentious and boring. But it’s okay! Because now it’s out and done and there to refer back to and I can keep on trucking.
Wow, I need some time away from the South.
Anyway, now that I’m out of the emotionally-sapping doldrums, I can focus on making the story fun and—shall I dare say it?—marketable? I know, you’re not supposed to think about that while you’re writing the first draft, but a girl can dream, can’t she? And the hope of the book’s success can fuel you to write the best way you can, and hey, anything to get those writing juices flowing, right?
I also get to start focusing on the human villain and not just the protagonist’s identity-villain (self vs. self and all that theory stuff), which, let’s face it, is so much better to write. If you need further convincing, just go read my 2013 NaNo journal (link on my homepage). I liked my villain more than my protagonist—at least writing him.
