#control and vulnerability

[soratatakano]

Descending Under

Will you let me take you on a walk through music?

This is not a story about Silco.

This is not a story about me.

This is a story about how much we need to feel that someone is there.

And that if you listen to the music - and something inside you vibrates - you are not alone.

Arctic Monkeys Do I Wanna Know

I guess I didn't want to know. Seriously.

When this popped into my head—because a friend talked me into writing a fic (even though I hadn’t finished the previous one—don’t remind me, the shame)—it started with Arctic Monkeys.

Oh, you don’t know how much I loved that song. I loved it. Still do.

But it hasn’t been number one in a long time.

It was the fuse, the motive, the temptation to go in with it… just—what?

Because while I may have had (okay, have) an unhealthy obsession with Silco, I’m not sure I ever saw myself with him.

More like beside him. Orbiting. Tethered, maybe.

I definitely wanted something from him.

Needed something.

But what?

Do I wanna know?

I think not.

It’s more interesting that way.

Safer, too.

She Wants Revenge Little Bit Harder Now

I created a character in which everyone can find something—or wave their hand and say, nah, not really.

But she is.

And she stays.

Because she’s nested too deep to be torn out. The roots go down too far. She’ll stay with me, just like the music does.

Music without which I can’t imagine creating. A little bit harder now.

Since I couldn’t quiet my own head, I decided I’d drown it out—by building a playlist for the story. It started because I saw one—damn good—edit of Silco to this song.

And oh, I was lost in the depths of those notes.

It was worth it.

So worth it.

The Weeknd Call Out My Name

But it turns out I didn’t just fall into the music.

I fell right into him. And I didn’t bounce off like a wall—because he opened his arms.

Invitingly. Enticingly.

How could I not fall in love?

Well, seriously...

It was as if he asked me to call out his name every time I needed more of him.

Do I sound pathetic?

Like hell I do.

But does that bother me?

Not a bit.

What’s funny—scary, even, and a little intriguing is that the music only really started playing in the background when there was chemistry between them. But the clear kind. The kind sparked by a dry kiss that could’ve ruined everything—and built something more dangerous than any cheap romance.

Chase Atlantic Swim

Silco has a wonderful theme. One I pulled to the very end, taking as much of it as I wanted. Somewhat selfishly—but hey, he let me.

I learned to swim in him.

Between his fierce tenderness and unpolished aggression.

Oh, how good it was...

And yet… yet I was missing something. As if the water had turned to ice. As if I could only observe through it, but never touch. I couldn't rearrange my words to guide me through the physicality with him. Frustrating as hell— but in this, too, I learned to swim.

Because I had to.

If I didn’t want to drown.

It wasn’t even desire anymore. It was necessity.

Adapt to the conditions—or drown. That’s what happens when you fight against too strong a current.

And he is that current.

He snatches you, unprepared, straight into deep water.

No breath.

No thought.

Just him—and the water.

Ari Abdul Stay

I led them through the story, not yet knowing how wrong I was about who was really in charge.

I thought I was incapable of writing their relationship—but the truth was they simply weren’t ready to show me that side of themselves. And forcing it—forcing them— led to one thing. They stopped letting me look. And without that I couldn’t write.

So I turned to feelings, searching for help where it all started—in music.

And that’s when I met Ari.

God, I love her endlessly.

Every song of hers sounded like a soundtrack to my story.

(Do you know how hard it is to stop being arogant when you think the universe is singing just for you?)

And maybe it was better that way.

To give them a moment of passion—and quietly step out. Everyone needs privacy. And that’s why they let me stay. Because I respected the boundaries I wasn’t yet able to cross.

I couldn’t be more grateful.

Sleep Token Rain

It’s just that at this point I began to feel it more intensely—how music wasn’t just shaping the text, but changing me.

All the pieces of the puzzle jumped into place. Themes overlapped. Words clicked into something that almost looked intentional.

Like I actually knew what I was doing.

I didn’t. But it looked neat. And I wanted others to find the hidden meaning

I swore I didn’t bury on purpose.

Since music had carried me this far, I figured—why not let it in fully? Let it bleed into the text. Best and worst decision ever.

It hit me like Rain—and suddenly, everything I’d tried to plant on dry, cracked ground started to grow like hell.

Of course I got addicted.  There’s a reason green is my favourite colour.

I saw what it looked like when you stopped relying only on yourself, and started looking outside your own cluttered head. And maybe beyond the smell of smoke that always lingers around Silco…

But you don’t need to know that.

For the first time, I invited music into the words. Not as decoration. As a force. It slipped in faster than I could track, spreading like water. Seeping into the cracks.

Relentless. Threatening. Just like him.

And I let it.

Because, frankly?

I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Sleep Token Give

Sleep Token...

I can’t even begin to explain what happens in my head—or my chest—when their music hits bone. It boils the blood in my veins. It scrapes at something buried. It’s like they asked me for something and I just… gave it.

Bleeding all over the page, happily, in the hope that the story written in red won’t fade like all the others.

If you want to give

Then give me all that you can give.

I’m trying, okay? I did.

I gave the story back to the music by doing something I probably shouldn’t have done. Because it opened a door inside me I didn’t know existed.

And usually, when that happens, something ugly comes crawling out. But not this time.

This time the music poured in. Flooded me. Almost drowned me and with it came someone else.

Or maybe he’d always been there, just asleep. And the rain finally woke him.

At this point, I don’t even know what I gave away, or to whom. But if it meant I wasn’t going to be lonely anymore...

Then screw the rules.

This was the song that let her feel what it’s like to fight for someone. To recognise her enemies. To bare her teeth and raise her brow because she finally had a reason to. Though, if she’d known what was really waiting for her… She’d have charged in faster, no games, no slow burn, just blood on the floor and silence where manipulation used to be.

Sleep Token Ascensionism

That’s what I meant. God, I knew that if I gave myself over to the music—if that’s even what happened—something would change.

And maybe it already had. Maybe it was for the better.

Because suddenly I could reach through the ice. I could feel it. The warmth that had been sitting right there, in front of me, all this time.

It was fire. Pure, bright, and brutal. And I hadn’t even realised how much I missed it until it hit me full in the chest. So I let it. I exposed myself to the fire just to see if it would burn me.

And look—since I’m still here writing this, you can guess how it turned out.

No ashes, but yeah—I carry a scorched trace now. And I’m not letting go of it because that scar. It reminds me I did something brave.

That I changed. That I dove into something deeper—somewhere I hadn’t dared to go before, but had always known was waiting.

I needed them more than they ever needed me. They have each other. I only have them—and even they don’t belong to me. They belong to themselves.

And yet… I preferred their fiction over my reality, because anything was better than the way I felt at that moment.

It happened suddenly. Like the thrill of starting an adventure. But, of course, something was there. Watching.

Maybe they noticed I was seeing things differently. That I could finally reach for them. And maybe—okay, this sounds weird—but maybe that’s why they let me see more.

Don’t ask what I saw.

Just know: it was fire.

And for the first time since the very beginning, I didn’t hear some outside voice telling me to play nice, to fit inside the frame. That frame burned. And I’m glad. A certain one-shot—a solo chapter—came straight out from under my burnt fingers.

And I’m proud as hell of it. Because it’s mine. All mine. No second-guessing. No interference.

Just fire.

Too wild to control—but maybe that’s the point.

Sleep Token Descending

I'm left with the question of what’s still true at this point. I knew some things had to change—so I led her. Naively believing it was just a story all along.

I developed her. Pushed her further. Made her into something else. Maybe something better. Or maybe just something she had to become.

I gave her the opportunity.

And then I went down with her.

Drifting through the city like in a trance, blood on her hands, smoke in her hair.

I know that state all too well.

The deeper she sank into the hum of the city—into the heart of the Lanes—the more she opened her own mind. She let herself feel. Anger. Fury. Sadness. But not hope.

Not yet.

Maybe there simply wasn’t room for it. Maybe there wasn’t time. But there was something else.

Determination.

To not be crushed by the weight of her thoughts. To descend consciously. To go down not because she was pushed—but because she chose to. And maybe that’s how she knew she hadn’t completely lost her mind. She opened herself. Searching for something she had once lost.

But she didn’t trust it to hope.

Hope didn’t deserve applause.

Not when she tore everything—everything—with her own bare hands from the throats of those who dared reach too far.

Sleep Token Past Self

If the past self still had any say, she’d probably laugh in her face for asking for help.

She?

The one who always handled everything alone? Impossible.

There would’ve been disbelief—then anger—wrapped up in a cruel, familiar voice: You couldn’t manage anyway.

But that version of her isn’t in control anymore. She didn’t vanish. She didn’t die. She just no longer holds power over what’s unfolding. Because the need for change has become stronger than the comfort of clinging to what never offered any real solace.

The anger is still there.

The irritation too.

But something underneath has shifted.

A quiet realization—that nothing is as it should be and only change can cut through the rot.

So she moves forward. Not because it’s easy—but because no one else can save her.

Maybe Silco sees that. Maybe he once walked that same path, found something there he never gave away. Maybe that’s why he wanted to spare her. Tried to offer his scars as warning signs. Tried to say: Don’t be like me. Because her own mistakes would burn too deep.

But it’s in that fire—in the pain no one could carry for her—that she found the answers.

No one came to save her.

She wasn’t worth saving to anyone else.

So maybe she’s waiting—for herself—at the end of this road.

And maybe this time, she’ll get there in time.

Silco isn't—and probably never will be—my guardian angel who is hacking into my brain cells. But through him, I’ve started to uncover a part of myself I thought was gone.

Writing about him isn’t just a story. It’s a way to remember who I am.

If this is love, then I am out of hesitation.

It’s not a confession. It’s clarity. Not romance—presence.

Not like before when I was empty

That line still hurts. Because now… there’s something more. Not perfect. Just real.

Kyle Alessandro Lighter

For a while, I feared that Sleep Token had shown me the way only to leave me there. That the guiding hand had let go and I’d have to finish the story on my own.

But would that be so bad?

They're still close. Just not here. Because some paths you have to walk alone, believing that the solitude is only for now.

You can go back.

You can move forward.

Either way—someone will be there.

You are not alone and you’ll never be. So stop doing everything alone.

Isn’t that beautiful in its tragedy?

The courage that doesn’t come from defiance, but from knowing—truly knowing—that you don’t have to fight alone anymore.

That someone is willing to stand up for her. With her.

That maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to burn to prove you’re strong. That you can be your own lighter. And let the fire warm you instead of consuming you.

The blood moves faster now—not from rage, but because the cold is fading. And suddenly—loneliness becomes a choice, not a sentence. Like cool air against a fevered face, that realization settles.

You don’t need to be led to know the way. You just need to believe that someone is waiting for you at the end of it.

And she knows it now.

She knows.

Cult To Follow Leave It All Behind

This is the moment when calm disbelief begins to tremble deep in the viscera, squeezing out laughter—chaotic, broken laughter through the mouth, because otherwise it is impossible to respond to these months of living in spite of yourself. It's a cry from the depths, an expression of injustice at everything that has happened. Opening one's eyes to the past in order to look at the future without veils.

Then lightness appears.

But lightness does not equal forgiveness.

Sometimes this lightness is blood on the ground and another body left behind without a shadow of hesitation. That’s because when every move comes from alignment with oneself, peace follows—even if it wears a red-stained grin. Is that monstrous? Maybe. Is revenge her matchstick? Absolutely. But does that make her wrong?

I certainly won’t say so.

Because this time, the past doesn’t get to have the last word. All that rot—blame, regret, empty noise—has been buried. Cut off at the root. Like tearing ivy from a crumbling wall to let the sun in again. There’s no room left for apathy. No patience for inherited guilt. What tried to suffocate her has been silenced, and what complicated everything has been stripped down to bone.

She walked away from all of it.

Far enough that even silence felt full again. She left nothingness behind and didn't look back—not because she had to, but because she could.

Since they want a monster, she might as well become one. But only on her own terms. One that breathes fire, not poison. One that protects what she’s built, what she’s claimed. One that doesn’t flinch when the world tests her grip.

And if she ever loses herself again—she knows the way back.

Because trust is the foundation.

And she gave it to him first, so he could help her find the rest.

Hi, I waited a long time for myself, and you?

If you’ve made it this far through my chaotic devotion to music, I might as well admit something.

Do you still believe this is only fiction? A neatly crafted story about surviving Zaun and learning how to live again?

I wish it was.

But she is me.

She always was.

And maybe that's why I was finally able to hear him.

Not just as a voice I created. Not just a character, or a shadow walking through the smoke. But as someone I could speak to. Really speak to — and know that he'd understand, even when I didn't say it aloud. I think that’s what Dangerous became. Not a song. Not a scene.

What is it all for?

To say something, maybe understand something. To use music to convey meaning differently. But mostly because the joke has turned into reality and Silco is no longer just in my head, but stands behind me and probably reads everything I've written.

Yes, you can send me to the doctor now.

A conversation.

My side of it.

Because now I know how to talk to him.

And more importantly — how to listen.

[thief-of-eggs]

“who’s the top??” “who’s the bottom?” “blank is such a bottom-“ “so and so is taller so they’re the top-“ listen guys. it’s whichever one has a harder time being vulnerable. that’s the bottom

[buttercups-revenge]

The (un-fucking-hinged) conversation that Snow had with Haymitch REALLY puts Peeta’s hijacking (SPECIFICALLY against Katniss) into perspective. Snow could have hijacked him to hate the rebellion, or district 12 or even himself. But no, that old loser just HAD to finally prove to one of those district 12 boys that their girl didn’t really love them, JUST like his didn’t really love him. Was it a smart move to potentially have Peeta attack Katniss on sight? Yes. But more importantly, it allowed Snow to control Peeta in a way that let him live out his own fantasies about being unloved and having power over his girl.

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[cry-ptidd]

The Weird Sisters, interpretations, stories and design ideas.

Creative process in the tags

[bixels]

As cameras becomes more normalized (Sarah Bernhardt encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use cameras because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by manufacturing companies. I paint not because I want a painting but because I love the process of painting. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.

if i have to explain to you that using a camera to take a picture is not the same as using generative ai to generate an image then you are a fucking moron.

[aventurineswife]

Anaxa with a reader who acts like a mitigation unit for whenever he says something blasphemous and leaves people wanting to punch him lmao

The reader is soft-spoken and gentler in disposition (much like castorice) and not exactly on par with him in terms of ingenuity, so some people wonder how they ended up together. But eh, who cares? Anaxa loves them anyways. Though, spending time with him is not good for their heart since whenever he states something outrageous, the reader will chime in with a "he doesn't mean that" and attempt to smoothen the tension, only for this dromas loving nerd to ruin the peace by spouting something like "no, actually, I meant every word I say" and the reader just stares up at the heavens, gaze resigned, and inwardly prays that they won't be stoned to death in that very moment

Bonus if they're taller than anaxa. I just think it would be cute if the reader has to constantly bend down whenever anaxa has something to say. Just the overall trope of the tall one being meek and withdrawn while the short one is feisty and outspoken

“He doesn’t mean that… I think”

Summary: You're the tall, soft-spoken partner of Anaxagoras—the infamous scholar with a talent for making blasphemous statements that nearly get you both stoned on a regular basis. While he fearlessly challenges gods and sages with wild theories and cutting wit, you're always close behind, offering polite smiles, calming words, and the occasional desperate "he doesn’t mean that." Despite your gentler nature and quieter intellect, Anaxa is fiercely devoted to you, pulling you into his chaotic orbit with unwavering affection. It’s loud, it’s intense, and your spine might just be made of divine patience.

Tags: Anaxagorus x Reader, Opposites Attract, Height Difference, Chaotic Genius x Soft-Tall Partner, Damage Control Partner, Romantic Tension, Emotional Vulnerability, Found Family Elements, Slow Burn (Implied), Philosophical Drama, “He Doesn’t Mean That” Energy, Protective Reader.

Warnings: Themes Of Death And Loss, Mentions Of Religious And Academic Conflict, Blasphemy (Fictional Context), Light Emotional Angst, Mild Language, Potential Reader Endangerment (Non-Graphic, Played For Irony/Humor), Anaxagorus being Anaxagorus.

A/N: I love this man, can you tell? 😋💚

It always starts with him saying something he absolutely shouldn’t.

The atmosphere in the courtyard of the Grove is as tense as a taut bowstring. A gathering of scholars and disciples encircle the infamous Anaxagoras, their faces twitching with barely concealed disdain, curiosity, or both. And there you are, standing right beside him like a loyal, bewildered lighthouse in the middle of an academic storm.

“…And that, my dear sages,” Anaxa declares, arms dramatically flared, coat swishing like some peacock possessed by hubris, “is why divine authority is nothing but an inherited illusion. If a god needs worship to maintain power, is it not merely a glorified parasite?”

Silence.

Not a respectful kind of silence. The "someone-is-about-to-throw-a-chair" kind of silence.

You blink. Smile nervously. And step in, gently placing a hand on Anaxa’s shoulder—he’s still mid-pose, soaking in the shocked silence like it’s validation—and clear your throat. You lean forward slightly, voice as gentle as spring rain.

“He doesn’t mean that.”

“I do,” Anaxa replies immediately, not even turning to look at you. “And if anyone disagrees, they’re welcome to explain how an all-powerful being managed to trip over the concept of mortality.”

You don't even sigh anymore. You just look up at the skies, lips silently mouthing the names of all the gods, hoping one of them has a sense of humor.

People often ask how the two of you ended up together.

You, the serene, quiet mitigation unit who wears soft colors and softer expressions. Him, the sharp-tongued philosopher whose idea of a romantic date involves reading banned texts and dismantling holy logic.

“They're not even on the same wavelength,” someone once whispered, watching you gently tug Anaxa back from yet another oncoming theological brawl. “How does it even work?”

You weren’t sure either.

Maybe it’s the way his eyes soften when you’re the one holding the scalpel during a shared experiment. Or how he lets you tie his ponytail every morning, mumbling critiques about symmetry but never actually fixing it. Or how he always looks for you in a room before he speaks—to see if you're there to watch the world burn with him.

Maybe it’s just love. Bizarre, inexplicable love.

Even if that love occasionally comes with public threats of excommunication.

You’re taller than him, of course. He pretends not to notice. But when he speaks, you always instinctively lean down just slightly, hands politely folded, like you’re giving a particularly chaotic child your full attention.

“Listen,” he says one day, post-lecture, voice low and dramatic, “I’ve discovered a correlation between Titan souls and the latent fear gods have of mortality. My next paper will be titled ‘The Cowards in the Sky.’”

You stare at him. Then glance nervously at the passing sages.

“He doesn’t mean that,” you murmur.

“I do,” Anaxa snaps, tilting his head up at you with that familiar glint of mischief and defiance. “And if I vanish in the middle of the night, assume they finally sent divine assassins. You’ll avenge me, won’t you?”

You rub your temple. “I’ll try to negotiate.”

“And you call yourself devoted,” he mutters, smug.

Still, for all the chaos he invites, Anaxa clings to you like a man who has seen too much fire and finds comfort in quiet.

When the nights are cold and long, he curls against you like he’s hiding from ghosts, his left hand resting just above yours. Sometimes, in those fragile hours, he whispers the names of people who aren’t alive anymore. Sometimes, he whispers yours like it's the only name he trusts to stay.

You don’t always understand the depth of his genius. You don’t have to.

You’re there. That’s enough.

You ground him, and occasionally save both your lives from being pelted by rocks.

“I’ve concluded,” Anaxa says one day, while reclining on your lap beneath a half-dead tree, “that your spine must be made of divine patience.”

You smile faintly, brushing a strand of mint hair from his face.

“And I’ve concluded,” you reply, voice barely audible, “that your mouth is going to get us killed one day.”

He laughs.

“You love me, still?”

You lean down slowly, forehead resting against his.

“Unfortunately,” you whisper.

And he grins.

“Good. That makes two of us.”

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Day 3.5 is now available! 💖

For the last couple of months, only Server Boosters had access to the 3.5 update... Buuuuut now it's available for everyone to play in the 14DWY Discord — and soon itch.io once I'm happy with the QA and state of the game — so please don't feel pressured to join unless you want to!!

The full devlog + even more screenshots are under the cut ^^

What's been added to the 3.5 version?

📺 Streamer Mode!

I've been told that it's difficult to stream and monetise age-restricted videos on YouTube and Twitch, so I added an option to remove the sexual content and strong language used in the demo.

Now y'all can invite Ren into your bed for cuddles without putting your streamer career on the line /silly /lh

This won't affect the 18+ rating or dark themes/elements of the game, however! Although Streamer Mode will prevent you from seeing any "gruesome" CGs in the future, most of the core elements of the game will still be tied to the choices and decisions you make. So you won't miss out on the overall experience by using streamer mode!!

⚙️ Custom Pronouns!

It only took me one entire year to get around to it, but you can finally choose your own preferred pronouns (or use a set of pronouns instead)... At the cost of being able to change them mid-game ^^;

Since the original pronoun screen wouldn't update until a new scene was displayed, I temporarily disabled the feature. But once I find a workaround, I'll bring it back!

💗 Choose how others perceive you!

You can now choose how the cast and narration perceive you! Originally, the narration was kept strictly gender-neutral (outside of pronouns and genitalia picked by the player), but this will soon change in future updates.

For more clarity: you don't get to choose the words specifically, but you can choose between masculine, feminine, and androgynous terms!

📋 Separate top and bottom genitalia!

You can now choose your tatas and pps separately! >:3

Alongside that, you can also choose your preferred body type!

I removed the "both" genitalia option because a few players still assumed it was an obscure version of "intersex". That wasn't my intention and I don't want to mislead anyone, so I took it out for now ^^;

I also didn't want to include a screenshot of the new genitalia choices in action (because it's NSFW), so y'all get the same character menu screen for the nth time instead lmao

📱 Relationship Screen Overhaul!

You can now change your own status for more immersion, and long-term Server Boosters will eventually be able to submit and use their own icon within the game as well!

Stalking finding your friends has now become easier by using "Buddy Maps"; a new app that allows you to see the location of all the cast members!

I want to offer players more incentive to check the relationship screen since they tend to miss the status updates, so hopefully this might help ;v;

It also says it "updates every few hours" so folks don't go overboard and check every 5 seconds to see where Ren is gdsghf (also keep in mind that he's a hacker lol)

🖤 Additional Scenes Update!

Day 2 received a brand new CG!!!!! Originally, I planned on only adding a few CGs sporadically throughout the game, but it didn't feel right to leave Day 2 so... empty... so I added a brand new CG to (hopefully) make things feel more balanced and natural!

If you decline Teo's offer on Day 3, Leon will now call and try to convince you to reconsider. However, players are still allowed to decline, and if they do, they'll reach a dead end.

After listening to feedback on itch, I changed some of the dialogue during Days 1-3 to make it seem more consistent! They're only small changes though, so it's honestly not worth looking for sdgjssga

🎶 Updated BGM and SFX!

I wanted to try out a different style of music to see if it fits the vibe of 14DWY more! The BGM features more acoustics to suit the "beachy" theme of Corland Bay, though I made a conscious effort to include piano elements as well to stay true to the original!!

I figured it'd be better to give players a live example before I make a poll (to see if they prefer the change or not) and publish it to Itch.

Some new SFX have also been added, though it's very minimal and honestly not that noticeable.

How to download and play the update?

(warning: clicking on the following links will open Discord!!) To download the Day 3.5 update, simply join the 14DWY Discord server, verify your age, and visit the "14dwy-updates" channel!

Alternatively, you can also wait until the update is publicly released on Itch to play it as well!! (It normally gets released shortly after a round of QA testing/getting feedback from the server, though I may release it earlier if I feel like it hehe ^^)

Enjoy!!

[srnileforme]

“All I ask is to have you by my side. Since you brought me to the palace, you have kept your distance from me. Why can't you be my coach? Is it because you don't want to be around me? You flew across the sky to bring me back, and now you're just going to leave me like this?”

THE NEXT PRINCE (2025) | EPISODE 5

[kettle-bird]

You know that old myth about lemmings and cliffs? Dunno why it's been on my mind.

[sualne]

"an essay at vulnerability" oneshot idea

mihawk makes sexual advances to crocodile who's all for it until he realizes mihawk expect him to bottom since he's trans. annoyed at the assumption he asks how he'd like to take it only to learn mihawk's never been on the receiving end. it eventually lead to mihawk accepting to bottom for once but most importantly let someone else take control.

i hope you can see in that last panel that he's both turned on and still putting on an intimidating act cause he's actually apprehensive and all that.

it's a comic idea i've no idea whether or not i'll draw cause it'll be a full on oneshot if i do which is so much time&efforts and i've no idea if ppl are interested. i'm really no good at writing smut so i'm not even going to try but i still wanted to put the idea out there.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

"That said, both Styles and his therapist have questioned why he cares quite so much about being likeable. This is one of the things he thought about a lot in his big pandemic reflection. In part, it's a choice, he explained. He recalled moving to London after The X Factor and hearing tales of petulant celebrities screaming because someone got their coffee order wrong and deciding to never be that guy, to never give someone a petty reason to bad-mouth him. But more recently he's come to worry that the drive for approval came from a more complex place, a place of caution, fear, control." "Styles said he often spent interviews terrified about saying the wrong thing until he stopped to question what abhorrent belief or bizarre opinion he was scared he'd accidentally reveal and realized he couldn't think of anything."

"And he thought about the cleanliness clauses in the contracts he used to sign, which would dictate that they would be null and void if he did anything supposedly unsavoury, and about how terrified that used to make him. And about when he signed his solo contract and learned that the ability to make music would not be affected by personal transgressions, he burst into tears, a reaction he still seemed shocked by, retelling it to me now, years later. "I felt free," he explained."

"When Styles began therapy about five years ago [so in 2017], he was reluctant initially, feeling it was a music industry cliché. "I thought it meant that you were broken," he said. "I wanted to be the one who could say I didn't need it." He returned to the home theme that has underpinned our conversation, explaining that therapy has allowed him to "open up rooms in himself" that he didn't know existed, allowed him to feel things more honestly, where before he had tended to"emotionally coast.""

"Recently Styles began to work through issues related to intimacy, dating, love. "For a long time, it felt like the only thing that was mine was my sex life. I felt so ashamed about it, ashamed at the idea of people even knowing that I was having sex, let alone who with," he said."

"You look back, especially now there's all the documentaries, like the Britney documentary, and you watch how people were abused in that way, by that system, especially women. You recall articles from not even five years ago, and you're like, I can't even believe that was written."

He has been thinking a lot recently about autonomy, ownership, privacy. About what he should be able to keep to himself, what he should be able to simply communicate through his music without follow-up questions or prying. Around the time of Fine Line, he faced scrutiny around his sexuality. People became incredulous that he wore dresses, waved Pride flags, and yet hadn't clarified with precision, publicly to a journalist or on social media, the specifics of who he'd slept with, how he defined. This expectation is, to him, bizarre, "outdated." "I've been really open with it with my friends, but that's my personal experience; it's mine," he said.

Despite the acceptance that some things could, should, have been different, he still feels lucky every day, he said, lucky to make music, lucky to do what he loves.

"You can't win music. It's not like Formula One," he said. "I was like, in my lifetime, there will be 10 more people who burst onto the scene in that way, and I'm only going to get further away from being the young thing. So, get comfortable with finding something else that makes you happy. I just found that so liberating."

"I just want to make stuff that is right, that is fun, in terms of the process, that I can be proud of for a long time, that my friends can be proud of, that my family can be proud of, that my kids will be proud of one day," he said.

-- original interview link, Better Homes And Gardens Magazine 26 April 2022 (remake of this post)

[starcurtain]

Hey! I apologize if this question has been asked before since it seems like a pretty obvious one, but where do you think the idea of Aventurine being a sex slave came from? Other than the obvious factor of it being something fun for the fandom to mess around with, I mean.

It's something I kind of took for granted as being true before playing his quest, but after finishing it I realized there wasn't really any indication. The only thing I can really think of is his master's comments about him having a good body. Is there anything in his behavior you can think of that would lead to this conclusion if it wasn't a popular fan interpretation already/kind of just an easy conclusion to reach with a slave character?

(also kind of related but what do you think of the idea that he sleeps around/with his clients to make deals? he's obviously willing to sexualize himself with the boob window, but that doesn't necessarily mean he goes further.)

As far as I can tell, the idea that Aventurine was involved in sexual slavery comes from three (maybe four) places:

First, the comment from the master about Aventurine's appearance. People were holding this comment up as refutable proof that Aventurine was used in sexual slavery on top of being tossed into the Hunger Games; however, the response from other players on this interpretation, especially the Chinese side of the fandom, was very mixed, with a lot of people pointing out that the context in the game probably meant the slave master was talking about Aventurine's ability to attract attention from fans watching the literal Sigonian Hunger Games, rather than having a direct sexual-slavery connotation.

Second, the comment from Sparkle about stripping naked and getting on his knees for Sunday. This one has way more implication in English than I think it might for an Eastern audience, actually. In English, this pretty much sounds like Sparkle saying Aventurine trades sexual favors for success in his gambles. However, I suspect the original intention in Chinese was more about humiliation. Western audiences don't have as much history with honor-based prostration, i.e. accepting corporal humiliation as a form of reconciliation that Eastern audiences might be more familiar with. And in any case, Sparkle is Sparkle. She probably just went for the lowest blow she could think of here.

Third, the general assumption that if Sigonian slaves were being chained, branded, beaten, sent to death matches, etc., it seems logical that they would also be taken advantage of in other ways. I honestly think this is probably the fairest take--many, many real slaves around the world faced (and still face!) sexual abuse, so if slaves from Sigonia were treated so poorly you could make them fight to the death for entertainment, it stands to reason they were probably also not safe from other forms of assault. We also have no idea what happened to Kakavasha in any of the years between his being a tiny child fleeing the massacre and then being purchased as a slave as a late-teens-early-twenties person. That's a very long time for a child to have to survive on their own on an extremely hostile planet and not face risks of all kinds or end up needing to do unspeakable things to survive. So I think this is at least not that far-fetched, although it's important to say there's nothing in the game that directly confirms this.

And fourth: I read a tweet semi-recently that stated that one of the Chinese (or maybe it was Japanese) names for a quest Aventurine was involved in was actually a reference to a book about a teenage sexual assault survivor. However, when I tried to verify this myself, I couldn't find any quest Aventurine was in that was based on a book about sexual assault in either English, Chinese, or Japanese. It's possible I just missed something, but I'm taking this one with a bit of a grain of salt currently, since I can't confirm it personally.

Regarding your other question, about whether I think Aventurine sleeps around to make deals...

I definitely think he does not, for one major reason.

First, I will admit that Aventurine is definitely willing to use his appearance to his advantage. This is pretty obvious. He wears incredibly flashy clothes, baths himself in cologne, overloads on glittering golden jewels, and absolutely calls attention to his appearance when working with clients.

We see him actively doing this in his Moment Among the Stars video, where he is clearly using his looks as an equal tool (to his wealth), to daze his target.

It's not an accident that he says things like "Use me as you wish," with all the explicit connotations preserved. The implication is there. However, unless he was absolutely backed into a corner, I think that implication is all it will ever be.

The reason I think this is that the devs go out of their way to give Aventurine three fairly noticeable physical behaviors in his in-game scenes:

For one, he has some of the most closed off body language of any character in the game.

Aventurine's default conversation pose is arms crossed directly and tightly in front of himself. This is like "Defensive Body Language 101." By crossing your arms, you put a symbolic barrier between yourself and the person you're speaking to, and also ensure that your hands are up and available in case you actually need to physically defend yourself.

Virtually all of Aventurine's conversations take place from this stance, no matter who he is speaking to (from the Trailblazer all the way to Topaz). He deliberately closes his pose off and tightens up his silhouette, which just sends a glaring "Don't touch me" message.

This closing off is also blatantly apparent when you compare it to the deliberately open poses he strikes while trying to make himself seem accessible to others (like tempting clients) or seem powerful (to intimidate):

Complementing this habit of closing himself off is a second noticeable aspect of his body language: He frequently avoids eye contact to the point that he even holds conversations while entirely facing away from the person he's speaking to.

I might be a bit lenient and say maybe he's doing this to on purpose to be mysterious, whoo~~ But... in all honestly, he just does this with everyone, even with Ratio while trying to talk about an actual important issue (wanting to look into Acheron's real identity). Hell, even the fake Aventurine does it to himself!

We can even say that wearing the rose-tinted glasses in the first place is another intentional barrier, one Aventurine deliberately removes in specific moments to give people the (false) impression that he's "letting them in" to his circle:

Now, this might be a bit more complicated in Aventurine's case, because eye contact has a whole extra meaning when eyes are the defining trait of your species and come with particularly challenging racial stereotypes. So it may be that Aventurine is simply used to conducting conversation while looking away to minimize racial prejudice against his eyes' unique appearance.

However, I'd also argue that the devs deliberately turned his entire model away in cutscene after cutscene to create a clear sense of being inaccessible, unapproachable, and unwilling to engage in the physical intimacy of standing closely, directly facing, and staring at his conversation partners.

While he faces away, he controls both the figurative and the literal direction of conversation, forcing people to keep their eyes on him while he is free to move as he pleases. Over and over again, it just says "I want to be the one in control. I'm not afraid to show my back to you, but you are not welcome to come near me."

And, in fact, that's a third aspect of his character's body language that I am sure the devs did not include accidentally: More so than other characters, many of Aventurine's conversations are conducted from weirdly far distances. Like, half the time he's talking, he's standing all the way on the opposite side of the room!

This habit of speaking from a-larger-than-normal distance is apparent in the first scene with Himeko...

And then in just about every other conversation too:

The bubble is twenty feet in every direction.

Like yes, he does approach and have conversations like a normal person... sometimes... But it is significantly more noticeable with Aventurine than with other characters that he often conducts whole conversations--even with his allies--from a distance. Just genuinely weirdly far apart.

Leaving space for Gaiathra, I guess.

And it's because these significant decisions were made with Aventurine's in-game body language that, when he deliberately alters his own behavior, it is instantaneously noticeable.

In 2.0, he closes the distance, the glasses come off, and he gets directly up in the Trailblazer's face.

It's uncomfortable not just because the player is suddenly being loomed over, but because this behavior has already been subconsciously established for the player as out of character for Aventurine.

The barriers the character himself was putting up are deliberately stripped away so that he can use physicality and demanding eye contact to intimidate his target. He has to reverse his own normal body language in order to come across as domineering (and, I guess if you're into that, appealing in a domineering manner).

And ummmm, just a tiny aside here because I can't resist:

This does mean that when the game goes out of its way to demonstrate Aventurine altering his own normal habit of distant and defensive body language, it is absolutely intentional.

Yes, this is a Ratiorine post in disguise. There literally isn't any other character in the game that Aventurine is shown being comfortable standing so close to and interacting with in this manner. This doesn't occur in every one of their scenes, but Ratio is the only character that this happens with repeatedly. It's not an accident that the devs literally added "They were walking side-by-side" as flavor text.

But look, I'll be fair: There's a great example of this in Aventurine's scene with Acheron too, where he closes the distance and attempts to make eye contact with her--seeking her guidance and closeness--and she is actually the one stepping away, speaking with her back turned, demonstrating her power and control (and issues with connection!) in that scene.

Anyway, this was a whole longggg tangent into analyzing Aventurine's body language, but my point is that, overall, the devs deliberately adjusted his model's actions in-game to give the impression of a person who clearly wants to be in control of every interaction he has with other people, who insists on distance over intimacy, and whose stances and habits suggest that he is significantly less accessible and open than his "Use me as you wish" motto might suggest.

Long story longer, I think that there is almost zero chance Aventurine is willingly ceding control over himself or the actions expected of him to anyone he isn't 100% comfortable with, and I think that using physical intimacy of any kind would be an absolute last resort for him. Frankly, he comes across as more likely to shoot himself in the foot than let someone he doesn't trust lay hands on him.

To me, he reads very much as "You may look, but you may not touch."

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Something something every time Charlie isn’t fighting to be the center of attention, he is always looking around to others to gauge their reactions and silently observing them all something something he is searching for connection, to fit in and be loved but he doesn’t know how to ask for love so instead he gains their attention by acting out in ways he knows they’ll notice and tries to pretend their attention and love are the same thing

[pasta-pardner]

attack dogs shouldn't bite the hands that feed them

[aventurineswife]

“To be loved is to be known”

Summary: When you call Aventurine by his true name, Kakavasha, with love and affection, it shatters the walls he’s built around himself. As he breaks down, overwhelmed by his past trauma and survivor’s guilt, you help him heal and discover the possibility of being truly loved. Through patience and support, Kakavasha learns to love and be loved in return, though the journey is filled with emotional struggles and slow-burning trust.

Tags: @bunni-v1(thank you for feeding the Aventurine fandom🙏💛💚), Aventurine x Reader, Angst, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Healing, Survivor’s Guilt, Manipulation/Control, Love & Vulnerability, First Love/Relationship, Patience, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Emotional Trauma, References to Past Abuse and Slavery, Mental Health Struggles (survivor's guilt, emotional breakdown), Explicit mentions of Grief and Loss, Heavy Themes of Self-worth and Identity.

A/N: this was much better in my head... 🧍‍♀️

[Inspired by]

The dim light of Aventurine's private quarters cast an amber glow over the room, reflecting off the myriad of trinkets and luxurious odds and ends that adorned the shelves. He lounged in his chair as always, legs crossed, head tilted, a half-empty glass of brandy in his hand. The smile that graced his lips was one you knew well—practiced, confident, and sharp. A mask.

“You’ve been unusually quiet tonight, darling,” he said, his voice lilting with feigned amusement. “Planning something, or is the weight of my brilliance just too much to handle?”

You folded your arms, standing in the center of the room. “Kakavasha.”

The sound of his real name stopped him mid-sip. The glass hovered inches from his lips, his eyes narrowing like a predator caught off guard. The room seemed to still, the silence so heavy it was deafening.

“What did you just say?” he asked, his tone sharper now, defensive.

“Kakavasha,” you repeated, softer this time, stepping closer to him. “Your name. Not Aventurine. Not the persona you wear for the world. I’m speaking to you—the person behind all of this.”

His smile wavered, a crack forming in the facade. For a moment, he looked at you as if you’d struck him, as though hearing that name from your lips was a wound he hadn’t prepared to guard against.

“Don’t,” he whispered, setting his glass down with a trembling hand. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like it means something,” he hissed, standing abruptly. His movements were quick, defensive, his hands curling into fists. “That name—that name belongs to someone who should’ve died years ago.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t step back. Instead, you moved closer, your hands reaching out to gently touch his face. He recoiled slightly at first, but you persisted, cupping his cheeks with a tenderness that shattered whatever defenses he had left.

“Kakavasha,” you said again, and this time, it broke him.

A sob tore through him before he could stop it, raw and guttural. He sank to his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist as if holding on for dear life. His head pressed against your stomach, and his body shook with the force of his crying.

“I—I can’t,” he choked out, the words barely audible between sobs. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You knelt down, your hands cradling his face as you forced him to look at you. Tears streaked down his cheeks, and his eyes were wide, glassy, and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

“Listen to me,” you said firmly, though your voice was laced with emotion. “You are Kakavasha. You are not the sum of your mistakes, and you are not the monster you think you are. You’re a person—a person who has been through hell and back, but you are not unworthy of love.”

He shook his head, more tears spilling over. “I don’t know how to—”

“You don’t have to know,” you interrupted, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You just have to let me love you. That’s all.”

His sobs quieted as your words sank in, his breathing ragged but slowing. You kissed his cheeks, his nose, his lips, each kiss gentle and patient, as though you were mending the broken pieces of him with your touch.

For a long while, he simply stayed there, his head resting against your chest as you held him. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think it was possible to feel like this.”

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You deserve this, Kakavasha. You deserve to be happy.”

The name lingered in the air, not as a weight but as a promise. Kakavasha—the man who had survived the desert, the betrayals, and the crushing loneliness—was still here. And for the first time, he allowed himself to believe that he could be loved.

The road to healing wasn’t easy. Aventurine—no, Kakavasha—was a man accustomed to wearing masks, to hiding behind his sharp wit and dazzling charisma. There were nights when his fears got the better of him, when he pulled away, scared of the vulnerability that came with being loved.

But you were patient.

You were there to steady him when he stumbled, to remind him that he didn’t have to face his demons alone. Slowly, he began to open up, sharing pieces of himself that he had long buried. His laughter became more genuine, his smiles less calculated.

And one day, as he watched you reading on the couch, bathed in the golden glow of the evening light, he realized that he no longer feared losing you. Instead, he felt a quiet determination—a promise to himself that he would protect this love with everything he had.

Because for the first time in his life, Kakavasha understood what it meant to be truly alive.