#his little adjustment to stand up straight

[elysiaheaven]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚, 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞-𝗗𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗸𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗮- нσηкαι ѕтαя яαιℓ 𝘅 𝗸𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗳.𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

words:3677

You entered the dreamscape after having a weird conversation with that blue-haired boy named Misha.

You were falling from the sky, your long white and purple hair flowing wildly in the wind as the stars glittered around you. The idea of becoming a shooting star seemed perfect—radiant, free, and mysterious. With a mischievous grin, you stretched your arms out, ready to blaze across the night sky, leaving a trail of light behind.

But as you soared downward, something caught your eye—a figure, no, two figures, below on the ground. A blonde man was walking with someone, his presence unmistakable even from such a height. Panic mixed with surprise as you realized your trajectory was heading straight for them.

"Ah! Look out!" you cried out, your voice cutting through the night as you tumbled uncontrollably.

Before you could even attempt to adjust your course, the inevitable happened. You crashed right into the blonde man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground in a whirlwind of limbs and confusion. The other person with him gasped, stepping back to avoid the chaotic collision.

When the dust settled, you found yourself sprawled on top of the blonde, your face inches from his. His eyes—magenta and cyan, with black slitted pupils—stared back at you, a mix of shock and something else flickering in their depths.

"Well, that wasn't the grand entrance I had planned," you muttered, half embarrassed and half amused.

He blinked, clearly trying to process what just happened. "You... fell from the sky?"

"Yep, like a shooting star! Except, you know, I missed the whole 'shooting' part." You grinned, not bothering to move from your current position.

The man raised an eyebrow, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. "I should've placed a bet on when a star would land on me."

The other person, who had been silently watching, finally spoke up. "Are you both alright? and didn't you and I fell down too?" They seemed more concerned than amused by the situation.

You pushed yourself up, standing and offering a hand to the man you had just knocked over. "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to crash your night."

He took your hand, getting to his feet with surprising grace for someone who'd just had a surprise encounter with gravity. "No harm done. But maybe next time, give a little warning before you try to become a celestial body?"

You laughed, brushing off your clothes. "I'll keep that in mind. But hey, who knows? Maybe I'm the luck you needed tonight."

As the blonde man dusted himself off, you couldn't help but notice the other person—the one who had been walking with him—watching you with a cool, almost analytical expression. There was a distinct chill in his gaze, as if he was measuring you up and finding you lacking.

The blonde man, however, seemed more amused than anything. He flashed a charming smile, the kind that hinted at mischief, and offered his hand again, this time for a proper introduction.

"Name's Aventurine," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a playful lilt. "And you've already made quite the impression, crashing into me like that. I don't usually meet stars in such a... literal way."

You took his hand, trying to ignore how your face was probably giving away every bit of your embarrassment. "I'm, uh, just a bit clumsy, I guess," you replied, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot. "Nice to meet you, Aventurine."

The other man stepped forward, his demeanor contrasting sharply with Aventurine's warm friendliness. His pink eyes with that unusual yellow ring around the pupils regarded you with a distant coldness. He didn't bother extending a hand, his tone as frosty as his gaze when he finally spoke.

"Dr. Ratio," he introduced himself curtly, as if the formality was a mere obligation. "You should be more careful. Not everyone appreciates such... dramatic entrances."

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling like a fool under his scrutinizing stare. "Yeah, I'll try to stick to less dangerous ways of saying hello next time."

Ratio's expression didn't soften in the slightest, and he seemed more interested in moving on from this encounter. "See that you do," he said, his tone clipped before turning his attention back to Aventurine. "We should continue. We have work to do."

Aventurine, however, didn't seem in any hurry to leave. In fact, his attention remained fixed on you, his interest evident as his smile widened. "Oh, come now, Ratio. Don't be so harsh. Our friend here just wanted to make an entrance. And what an entrance it was! Besides," he added, his voice lowering in a way that made your heart skip, "how often do we get to meet someone who literally fell out of the sky?"

You laughed, a bit too loud and a bit too nervous, rubbing the back of your head. "Well, I do try to be memorable."

Aventurine chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. "That you are. And I'd love to hear more about how you ended up falling into our path. Perhaps over a drink? I think a story like yours deserves a proper setting."

You grinned back at him, feeling a mix of relief and excitement at his interest. "Sure! I mean, I could use a drink after all that. And who knows, maybe I'll get to hear some of your stories too."

Ratio rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the turn of events. "Aventurine, we're wasting time."

Aventurine waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, Ratio. Sometimes the best investments are made in the most unexpected encounters. You can go on ahead if you're in such a rush, but I think I'll stick around a bit longer."

Ratio's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't argue further. With a sharp nod, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with Aventurine.

As Ratio's figure disappeared into the distance, Aventurine turned back to you, his gaze sparkling with interest. "So, how about that drink."

You couldn't help but laugh, your earlier embarrassment fading under his playful attention. "Lead the way, Aventurine."

You and Aventurine made your way to a nearby café, he was in high spirits, clearly enjoying your company. The evening was turning out to be unexpectedly delightful, with the prospect of a few more stories and possibly a bit of mischief.

When you finally settled at a cozy table, Aventurine's charming demeanor took a playful turn. He leaned in close, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said with a grin, "I've been thinking. Since you're an Astral Express member and I'm a bit of an... extravagant spender, how about we join tabs? I'd hate to see you go hungry while we're having such a delightful time."

You raised an eyebrow, the offer sounding a bit too convenient for someone so keen on making an impression. "Nice try, but I think I'll pass. I prefer to keep things straightforward."

Aventurine's smile didn't waver. "Fair enough. But don't think I'm going to let you go without at least treating you to something. Consider it a small token of appreciation for making my night so memorable."

You were about to protest when he waved down a waiter and began ordering a seemingly endless array of dishes. It was a feast fit for royalty, with everything from exotic appetizers to decadent desserts. You watched in awe as the table filled up with an impressive spread, your earlier reservations melting away in the face of such abundance.

As you dug into the food, your initial hesitation faded. Aventurine's presence was both engaging and amusing, and the food was absolutely delicious. You couldn't help but smile as you indulged in the feast, every bite more satisfying than the last.

At one point, as you were savoring a particularly delectable pastry, your device buzzed with a new message. You glanced at it, only to find a text from someone named "Anonymous":

You're an idiot. Aventurine's just a two-faced fool. Don't get used by someone like him.

Your smile faltered, and you glanced up at Aventurine, who was currently savoring a dish with unabashed enjoyment. You hesitated, then decided to bring up the message.

"Hey, Aventurine, I just got a message saying you're a two-faced fool and that I shouldn't get used by you. What's that all about?"

Aventurine paused mid-bite, a hint of surprise crossing his face before he broke into a hearty laugh. "Ah, Ratio's little gift to you, I see."

You blinked in confusion. "Ratio?"

"Yes, Ratio," Aventurine confirmed, still chuckling. "He has a habit of being overly critical of me. The truth is, he's just envious of the way I manage to get by with a bit of flair and a lot of charm."

You frowned, feeling a bit uneasy. "So, is there any truth to what they said?"

Aventurine waved a dismissive hand, his grin reassuring. "Oh, Ratio's right about one thing—I'm certainly not without my flaws. But I assure you, I'm not trying to deceive you or use you. I genuinely enjoy your company, and tonight has been quite fun."

You studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. The way he was looking at you, with that playful glint in his eyes and the way he had been treating you throughout the evening, made it hard to believe he had any malicious intent.

You hesitated, the earlier message from Ratio still lingering in your mind. The food was incredible, and Aventurine's company was undeniably charming, but something about the situation didn't sit right with you.

You swallowed your last bite and looked at him, the warmth in your smile fading. "Actually, Aventurine... I think partnering up might be a bad idea. I'm all for having fun, but I'd rather keep things simple. Maybe we should just enjoy the meal and call it a night."

Aventurine's grin didn't waver, but you noticed a flicker of something else in his eyes—something calculating. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if considering your words carefully.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, his tone still light but with an undercurrent that made you uneasy.

You nodded, trying to maintain your resolve. "Yeah, I think it's for the best. I don't want to complicate things."

He stood up slowly, his movements smooth and deliberate as he walked around the table toward you. There was a newfound intensity in his gaze, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he closed the distance between you. In his hand, he held a small chip, which he began to twirl between his fingers, the metallic surface catching the light in a way that seemed almost hypnotic.

Aventurine leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper as he spoke directly into your ear. "You know," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, "I happen to know a lot of things—secrets, if you will. Secrets about everyone on the Astral Express. Things that could make life very difficult for a lot of people."

You stiffened, the implications of his words sending a wave of dread through you. "What are you saying, Aventurine?"

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his grin now sharper, more dangerous. "I'm saying that if you don't cooperate with me, I might just reveal those secrets. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you? After all, we've had such a lovely evening so far... it'd be a shame to end it on a sour note."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his threat pressing down on you. "Are you blackmailing me?"

He tilted his head, his smile never fading. "Blackmail is such an ugly word. Think of it as... a persuasive offer. One you can't refuse."

Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this situation. Aventurine had gone from charming to menacing in a heartbeat, and now you were caught in his web, with no clear way to escape.

Just as Aventurine's words hung in the air, the tension thickening, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned your head, relief flooding through you as a figure emerged from the crowd. It was Sunday, his presence commanding and serene, his golden irises locking onto you with a calm intensity.

"Is there a problem here?" Sunday asked, his voice gentle yet carrying a weight that made it clear he wasn't to be trifled with.

Aventurine's smile didn't falter, but you noticed the slight tightening of his grip on the chip in his hand. "No problem at all," he said smoothly. "I was just having a friendly chat with my lovely companion here. We were just about to discuss some... personal matters."

Sunday's gaze flicked between you and Aventurine, taking in the situation with a sharp, discerning look. "It seems Mr. Aventurine is a very busy man. Perhaps it would be better if I accompanied you for the rest of the evening. I wouldn't want to impose on your time, Mr. Aventurine."

Aventurine chuckled, though there was a dangerous edge to it now. He stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Sunday. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but the thing is, *she* was with me first. Besides, we were having a good time, weren't we?" He turned his gaze to you, a hint of challenge in his expression. "Why don't you make the choice? Who would you rather spend your evening with?"

Your heart raced as both men looked at you, each with a different intensity. Sunday's calm and protective demeanor was a stark contrast to Aventurine's charming yet menacing presence. You hesitated, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on you.

Sunday remained composed, but you could see the subtle tension in his posture as he awaited your decision. Aventurine, on the other hand, seemed almost eager, as if he relished the game he was playing.

Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at both of them, trying to steady your nerves. "I think..." You glanced at Sunday, then back at Aventurine, who was still holding that chip, the unspoken threat lingering in the air. "Maybe it's better if I—"

Before you could finish, Aventurine leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. "Remember what I said. Think carefully, because once you make your choice, there's no going back."

The subtle menace in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes darted to Sunday, whose gaze softened, silently offering you reassurance.

You steeled yourself, your decision solidifying in your mind. 

Choosing Aventurine

You hesitated for just a moment, but the allure of Aventurine's charm was too strong to resist. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in even as the warning bells rang in the back of your mind. Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and placed your hand in his. Aventurine's grin widened, a mix of satisfaction and something darker playing across his face as he firmly pulled you closer to him.

"Well, then, I guess that settles it," Aventurine said with a smug edge to his voice, not even sparing Sunday a second glance as he started to walk away, guiding you through the bustling streets. You turned back, feeling a pang of guilt as you met Sunday's calm, understanding gaze. You mouthed a quick "sorry" to him, hoping he would understand.

Sunday's expression remained unchanged, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe just concern. He nodded slightly, a silent acknowledgment of your choice, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you had made a mistake.

As Aventurine led you away, his hand warm and firm around yours, he glanced down at you, his tone light and teasing. "Looks like you made the right choice. We'll have plenty of fun tonight, trust me."

As you walked hand-in-hand with Aventurine, the unease from your decision gnawed at you. His grip was firm, almost too tight, and the playful charm he had shown earlier now felt suffocating. You mustered the courage to pull your hand back, trying to create some distance.

"Let go," you demanded, your voice more assertive than you felt.

Aventurine didn't stop walking, nor did he loosen his hold. Instead, he looked down at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His magenta and cyan eyes seemed to pierce right through you, all traces of his earlier playfulness gone. "Shut up for a while," he said, his tone cold and commanding, sending a chill down your spine.

Before you could react, he suddenly pulled you into a dark corner, pressing you against the wall. You were about to protest when his hand flew up to cover your mouth, silencing you. His eyes weren't on you anymore; they were focused on something—or someone—else. You followed his gaze and saw Sunday, but something was wrong.

Sunday's form shimmered, and in the blink of an eye, he changed. The dignified man you knew had transformed into a girl with short, black hair tipped in red, her clothing a striking crimson. She exuded a dangerous aura, her eyes sharp and calculating as she scanned the area.

Your eyes widened in shock, and a scream began to rise in your throat. Before you could make a sound, Aventurine's hand clamped down over your mouth, muffling any noise you might have made. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Don't. She's a Masked Fool."

You froze, the words sinking in. The Masked Fools were notorious, and you knew enough to understand that getting their attention was a death sentence. You stared at the girl who had once been Sunday, your heart hammering in your chest.

Aventurine's grip on you tightened, his eyes never leaving the girl as she moved further away, her presence still menacing even from a distance. When she finally disappeared into the crowd, he slowly released his hold on your mouth but kept you pinned against the wall.

"Stay quiet and stay with me," Aventurine whispered, his voice a mix of warning and something else, something almost protective. "You have no idea what you just got yourself into."

You nodded, too stunned to speak, the reality of the situation crashing down on you. Aventurine might be dangerous, but at that moment, he was the only thing standing between you and something far worse.

Kaslana out!

[iwaoiness]

Every time Oikawa asks Iwaizumi to take a picture of him, it’s never just one picture—it’s at least a dozen between his “Iwa-chan, you’ve got to tell me if I’m backlit!” and “Hold the phone straight, Iwa-chan, don’t tilt it!” and “I need a different background” and “Are you getting my shoes in the shot, Iwa-chan?” and “Wait, is live photo on?”

And while Iwaizumi always protests, giving him an exasperated glare with his own retorts like, “How can you be backlit when it’s cloudy?” and “I’ll tilt your face if you don’t fucking stand still” and “I swear, I’m going to punch you” and “Yes, your damn shoes are in the shot”, deep down, he doesn’t really mind.

Oikawa is beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. He has a striking physical charm that makes anyone turn for a second glance. He’s naturally photogenic, always has been. There’s no picture where he truly looks bad, not even that one from when he was three, crying his eyes out in front of a piece of cake spilled on the floor, snot dripping, his face flushed red.

That’s why Iwaizumi can’t help but smile a little bit every time he frames Oikawa in the photo and presses the button to capture him. He likes how Tooru smiles at his phone, genuine and soft. Or how he tries to seem distracted, looking away while shaking his hands. Or when he puts his hands to the waistband of his jeans, adjusting it, and lowers his head slightly, as if paying attention to what he’s doing. Or, his favorite, when he tilts his chin up and lets the sun kiss him completely, closing one eye and subtly shielding his face with one hand as he smiles.

Or he turns to the side and looks over his shoulder at the camera, that intense gaze paired with a playful smile curling his lips. Or he sticks his tongue out naughtily and flashes a victory sign. Or, when he’s sitting, he spreads his long legs with feigned carelessness, his arms resting on his thighs as he looks off to the side, his head tilted just enough to show more of his pale neck. Or he leans against the wall, pretending to be interested in what’s going on around him, hands clasped behind his back. Or he walks forward, one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other holding one of his favorite bubble tea.

No matter how he poses, even when he’s being a goof, Hajime always thinks about how beautiful, handsome, cute, and stunning he is. And sometimes, when Tooru isn’t being so damn picky about the angles, the background, or the pose, he says it out loud. And just that—a soft “you’re beautiful”—is enough to leave Oikawa speechless, his eyes wide, with a blush creeping from his neck all the way to his eyebrows.

(And if, while Tooru's babbling incoherently pretending the compliments don’t affect him, Hajime Airdrops all the photos to himself to choose a new wallpaper, well, he doesn’t say a word.)

...

did u know i love iwaoi?

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