Well, my sanity finally broke. So I'm gonna write some bottom Alastor fan fics Bc I can't be the only one obsessed with it! There will be fluff and smut, most of these will probably be human oneshots Bc I love the human oneshots and stories way to m...
Note: daffodils=meeting Yellow roses=friendship goodbye=White and yellow chrysanthemums Combretum=reunion Red roses=love Black roses=death Lillies=sadness
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Hank knocked on the Leblanc family's door, knocking on the door with a bouquet of daffodils clutched in his tiny hands. He was surprised when a black woman opened the door to the small house, a mixed boy who was maybe a bit younger than him clutching onto her skirt. He shakes his head and looks up at the woman, holding up the lilies as offering. "Hello ma'am, my name is Hank, it's nice to meet you, I live right across the street from you" Hank introduced himself. He was less than enthusiastic to be there, but his parents heard about the new neighbors and wanted to make a good impression, but of course, they were far too busy to do it themselves. The woman who was standing before him smiles softly at him and gently took the lilies from his small hands, "well thank you darlin', you can just call me Martha, and this is my boy Alastor". I looked over at the boy clutching the woman's skirt, his big chocolate brown eyes locking with his own steel grey ones, but the boy quickly hides away behind his mother. Hank had never seen a person like this boy quite before, the idea of a person having brown skin was completely foreign to him. This was the day he met Alastor for the first time.
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The young lad came back to that house the neck month, he was far too curious about the black skinned woman and the brown skinned boy. For some reason, his parents seemed repulsed when he described the two, particularly when he mentioned their skin, but Hank didn't really understand why. He didn't really care though, he didn't really like his parents much anyways, so their opinions on people they haven't met yet didn't really matter to him. As he knocked on the hard wood door again, his small hand held onto a bundle of yellow roses. He picked them right out of his mothers garden, he doubted his mother would ever notice they were ever gone in the first place, and he certainly wasn't going to rat himself out. Much to his surprise, the boy he met that day was the one who opened the door, only to squeak and close it immediately after. Hank was taken off guard, he wasn't expecting for the door to open only to immediately be closed right in his face. He was relieved when the door was opened by the woman he saw before, the boy cradled in her arms as he was once again clinging onto her tightly.
