#@lars & @alkaid why is your hair like that

[vivsicx]

Some extra ayn from the depths of my files

[chalkscene]

lovebrush chronicles ⇢ NOT LEAVING THIS GARDEN OF EDEN

you did follow through your plan, you tell yourself. you saved earth and went straight back home. you just didn’t plan on going back to eden. after all, home is where the heart is.

ft. ayn alwyn, alkaid mcgrath, lars rorschach & clarence clayden

note: reimagined eden endings because i’m still sad i didn’t pull a single eden ssr illustra <//3 also i apologize for the big blocks of texts lmao

“hey, chief. remember little leaf?” o’connor suddenly asks. AYN freezes at the mention of his second-in-command’s endearment for you and though he doesn’t mean to intimidate his companion, there’s a permanent glare in his gaze on o’connor which makes the latter panic in fear. o’connor’s hands shoot straight to his head as he begs, “please don’t burn my hair. it was just a question.” the chief stifles a snort, “i’m not gonna do anything.” o’connor sighs in relief before ayn answers his earlier inquiry, “i remember. why do you ask?” “i was just wondering. how do you think she’s doing?” in an attempt to mask the longing he still feels since you left, ayn simply shrugs, “safe, probably. she’s home now.” “she is.” it’s not o’connor who speaks this time and just like that, ayn feels his entire body go tense—he’d know that voice anywhere. unbeknownst to him, you’ve been standing just a few feet behind him. the moment you walked into the busy tavern today, the members of the order perked up at the sight of you but before they could express the slightest glee, you urgently signalled them to hush. you’re grateful that despite their undying loyalty to ayn, they play along. when you finally speak, the room falls into complete silence as every single member of the order awaits ayn’s reaction. his suspicions are confirmed by the smirk from o’connor who’s now looking past him and straight at you, beaming, “hey, little leaf!” ayn spins on his heel to face you, the usually blunt man now rendered speechless. you can’t help but tease him, “i can’t believe i managed to sneak up on you. you’re losing your touch, ayn.” the seconds that follow pass in a blur and you find yourself in the strong yet gentle embrace of ayn’s arms once again. “you’re back…” ayn mutters, clear disbelief in his tone as if to convince himself that he’s not dreaming and you barely contain your giggles, feeling hopelessly smitten with this boy, “like you said. i’m home.”

with the lantern glowing in his hand, ALKAID is strolling along a commercial district—the exact replica of the street he took you to in eden—and like they always do, his thoughts drift back to you. if you could see this new eden, would you be proud of him? he can’t help but wonder. he hasn’t fully regained his capacity to feel a multitude of emotions since he paid the price to rebuild eden into a better place but one thing’s for certain—he yearns for you. but he also knows that if a star were to fall from the sky tonight, it would be incredibly selfish of him to wish for your return. he can only wish for your safety and happiness wherever you are. that should be enough, he tells himself. you already granted him three days to be his lover—much more than what he deserved after everything he had done. he’s not in any position to demand for more. but the universe is quick to differ because sitting on a bench just a few feet away now is your figure. before he can stop himself, alkaid calls your name and you immediately turn to the sound of his voice. both falling in a state of disbelief at the sight of each other, neither of you say anything for a moment. “hi,” you speak first. it takes some effort but alkaid manages to find his voice, “what are you doing here?” “i didn’t know where to look for you,” you suppose that’s not exactly what he meant with his question but your reply still answers it all the same—i came back because i promised i’d find you. your eyes then dart to the lantern in his hands, “you still have it.” “i kept it. i don’t know why i brought it with me though,” he admits bashfully, his boyish grin so childlike it leaves no trace of the master of eden he used to be. and it’s the loveliest you’ve ever seen him. “i was going to give it to you before you left,” alkaid adds, “you can have it now so you can bring it back home… if you want it.” “if that’s the only reason you’re giving it to me then i can’t take it,” you try to sound as solemnly as you can and guilt immediately gnaws at you when alkaid visibly deflates at the rejection. still, out of respect for your decision, he simply gives a resigned nod, ”i understand.” “i don’t think you do.” you can no longer fight the smile pulling on the corners of your lips and alkaid looks nothing short of confused. “alkaid, i’m staying.”

after a long trip beyond the borders of eden, LARS couldn’t be more ecstatic to go home and get some rest but as he rummages his backpack for his keys, something at the foot of the door catches his eye—a small pot of cactus. maybe his mind is playing tricks on him but the prickly succulent looks identical to the one he gifted you during your time in eden. he recounts the past events, from your arrival in this world down to the moment you left. he’s sure he packed the cactus for you. “at least, put that in a box before you stuff it in my bag next time,” you quip as you come into lars’s view, raising your finger to show him the small bandage over the spot where the cactus pricked you. with the traveler stood frozen and speechless, you take it upon yourself to cross the distance between the two of you. soon, lars is reaching for your hand as if to inspect the tiny wound but that is the furthest thing from his mind right now. he’s trying to process the sight of you standing in front of him and holding his hand and that this is all, in fact, very real. still, he manages to match your teasing. “how about daisies, hm? would that be better?” brazenness drips from his tone but there’s obvious sincerity swimming in his eyes. you can’t even describe how badly you missed those blue eyes. “much,” you tell him. in an instant, the playful atmosphere dissipates until there’s nothing but genuine longing in the air surrounding you both. “i thought you went home,” he says softly but you don’t miss the subtle shiver in his voice as he keeps it steady. “i did.” “why did you come back?” “i wanted to see you again.” “but it’s safer there.” “i feel safer with you.” lars doesn’t have a rebuttal to that. “i missed you, lars.” “i missed you, too,” he mutters as he takes you in his arms, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead, “are you sure about this? i don’t think i can let you go again.” with a giggle, you cradle his face and bring him closer for a kiss that he’s eager to reciprocate. “i don’t want you to,” you mumble against his lips.

eden has begun to live up to its name since CLARENCE took over but sometimes, the falcon in him still comes out and clarence finds himself at a shooting range practicing his aim—not that he ever needs it. he can hit multiple bullseyes in a row within seconds. but better safe than sorry and today is no exception. when he shoots the last of his ammunition, an audible thud shortly follows, catching his attention. he immediately glances at the target and at the center, among his many gunshots, one rubber bullet stands out. on full alert, clarence scans the area to deduce the possible source of the dart only to be met by the last person he ever expected to find in eden—you. “i didn’t think i’d get that on the first try,” you quip. “what are you doing here?” the urgency in his voice contradicts the cheeky expression on your face. “i took some shooting lessons and i wanted to show you,” you tell him proudly, “but i’m not sure if they’re eden standards.” clarence huffs out a laughter at your remark as he shakes his head in amusement. your playful wit hasn’t changed one bit, to his relief. “if you want me to teach you, just ask,” he banters. “i literally hit a bullseye,” you retort but clarence only shrugs, “beginner’s luck.” his mock indifference reminds you of the clarence—or rather, the falcon—you met when you first arrived in eden. it’s only been a few months but it all feels like a distant memory that you can’t help but laugh about it now. not wanting to waste another second apart from him, you cross the space separating you, running into his arms where he catches you with ease. “i was scared you wouldn’t remember me,” you mutter against his shoulder and a soft chuckle escapes him as he deems the mere idea of your confession ridiculous, “i never stopped thinking about you.” when you eventually pull away, clarence’s gaze drops to the gun in your hand. “what kind of gun is that?” “this?” you hold it up so clarence can get a better look at it, “it’s a nerf gun. and it’s just a toy.” you point the gun at clarence and aim for his arm. before he can protest, you pull the trigger to prove it causes no serious injury, “see?” still, the impact makes him flinch. “where did you get it?” “i brought it with me.” the insinuation of home in your reply slightly dampens clarence’s mood. he can’t help but ask, “how long are you staying?” “depends,” you answer in a tone that’s unwaveringly cheery, “how long are the lessons you promised?” the corners of clarence’s lips quirk up at your joshing and hope begins to bubble in his chest, “as long as you want them.”

[idyllcy]

for all time/lovebrush chronicles boys responding to "kiss me for ten or the hottest girl ever for a thousand?"

word count: 648

summary: lovebrush boys responding to who they would kiss

Ai Yin / Ayn

"Ayn." You tug on his sleeve from the ground as he takes a break from practice. "Hm?" He blinks down at you, fingers reaching for your hand as you speak up. "Would you rather kiss me for ten dollars or the hottest girl in the world for a thousand?" Ayn's heard this one from Tiktok, but he doesn't respond, opting to blink at you blankly again. "Would you—" "Does that mean I can kiss you for a thousand?" You blink at him blankly, words registering in your head before the embarrassment explodes on your cheeks and you hide your face from him. "Ayn!" "So can I?" You don't give him an answer, opting to hide your face until you're sure the flush is gone.

Lu Chen / Alkaid

"Alkaid." You brush your fingers over his as the two of you sit in the park. "Yes?" "Would you rather kiss me for ten dollars or the hottest girl in the world for a thousand?" You tilt your head at him, curious. Alkaid doesn't think, he just answers. "You." Alkaid smiles gently and tilts his head, brushing his fingers over the back of your hand as he hums. "Why would I kiss someone else when I have you?" You grow embarrassed, and he laughs, fingers running through your hair as you hide your face from him, ears on fire. "I'll always pick you." Something about his eyes tells you there's no room for arguement.

Luo Xia / Lars

"Kiss me for ten or the hottest girl in the world for a thousand?" Lars reaches for your face, fingers stringing through your hair as he presses his lips to yours, eyes half-lidded as you tilt your head to give him better access— something he hums in thanks for. Your fingers scrunch the fabric of his shirt, and he pulls away, catching his breath as he stares into your eyes. "Okay, I kissed you, so where's my thousand dollars?" He raises a brow in amusement. "You don't lack that thousand!" You gasp in fake offense. "Yeah, but that can be your pocket money." He hums, resting his chin on your head. "But lucky for you, you're the hottest girl ever to me." You push him away in embarrassment, heart racing in your chest. He's too good at this.

Si Lan / Clarence

"Clarence," You sort through the files in the student council room, breaking the silence between the two of you. "Would you rather kiss me for ten dollars or the hottest girl in the world for a thousand?" Clarence like pretends to think about it, tapping his cheek, and. you blink at him, waiting for his answer. "Okay, who would you kiss if you could kiss any woman in the world?" He laughs when you pout at him before rolling his eyes and telling you "You, obviously." "Then me or the hottest woman in the world?" "You, obviously." He stops with his papers, looking into your eyes with an insane amount of sincerity that makes you look away from embarrassment. "Now get back to work." "Yes, sir!" You fight off the blush creeping up your skin for the rest of the time in the room.

Ye Xuan / Cael

"Cael." You mumble. "Would you rather kiss me for ten dollars or the hottest girl in the world for a thousand?" Cael rests his finger on where he left off in his book, blinks at you, and senses this is some random question you've dragged from Tiktok with a right answer, but he still processes it, unsure as to how to answer. "So? What's your answer?" You step closer to him on the couch, leaning forward to face him with your head tilted as he blinks at you again. "I'm thinking about it." "YOU NEED TO THINK ABOUT IT?!" You gape, puffing your cheeks as you pout. Then, Cael presses his hand to the back of your head, lips pressed to yours gently before releasing you and going back to his book. "There's my answer" He hums. You take two business days to recover from that.

[chalkscene]

lovebrush chronicles ⇢ THEY FIND THE DRAWING YOU DID OF THEM

ft. ayn alwyn, alkaid mcgrath, lars rorschach & clarence clayden

when you asked AYN if you could drop by the piano room and watch him practice, he didn’t expect you to take a seat on the far corner of the room, nose deep in your sketchbook. you’ve barely had a full conversation with him since you got here and he can’t understand why—you’re usually very chatty. he can’t help but scowl as he glances at you. he’s about to call for your attention when your phone rings and you immediately excuse yourself out of the room, “i’ll be right back.” as soon as the door clicks shut, he eyes your sketchbook which is now unsupervised. he knows he shouldn’t look but curiosity killed the cat. he gets up from his seat and strides across the room to peek at your work then his breath hitches. right before his eyes is a rough sketch of a raven-haired boy slightly hunched over a piano, his back on the artist—you. you’re drawing him. in a state of fluster, ayn quickly sets the sketchbook down in the same position he found it—hell, he can’t remember it. he’s too preoccupied by the fact that you’re sketching him that he registers a second too late that you’ve already returned, catching him fiddling with the sketchpad. before you can say a word, ayn walks back to the piano without sparing you a glance, “i didn’t see anything.” you feel the mortification in your system vanish as quickly as it came, now stiffling a giggle that threatens to escape your lips. ayn being more flustered when it was you who got caught drawing him is actually comical. you don’t even resist the urge to tease him, “really?” “really,” he answers curtly. “then why are you being weird?” “why are you drawing me?” ayn retorts with a tinge of accusation as he turns to glare at you but you’re not even slightly intimidated. you prod, “so you did see it?” ayn looks away from your smug expression upon his lack of rebuttal, doing his best to conceal the color in his cheeks with his hair. “i wasn’t going to,” you explain truthfully, “but you were so in your element i couldn’t help but… ‘capture’ the moment,” you say with air quotes, “i like drawing you.” ayn feels his heart skip a beat but as emotionally constipated as he is unable to handle your admission, he grumbles despite blushing furiously, “just ask me to come to the art studio next time.”

ever since ALKAID invited you to picnics or simple strolls around nature, you’ve developed a habit of making quick sketches of the scenery around you. but today’s an exception. with the cool breeze and the soothing warmth of the sun while you and alkaid sit side by side under a tree, it’s all just too relaxing. alkaid is busying himself with his camera when he suddenly feels a soft impact on his shoulder. when he glances at you, he can’t help but smile, endeared by the sight of you asleep. your sketchbook is left open and your grip on the pencil has loosened enough that a sudden gust of wind flips the pages and alkaid gets a glimpse of the drawing you had done of him. saying he’s surprised is an understatement. he finds it unbelievable that you’d ever choose him as your muse. alkaid isn’t one to pry but he can’t resist turning the pages over to get a good look at your drawing, taking in its rough details and pencil strokes. it looks beautiful, he notes, barely fighting a smile upon the realization that this is how you see him. before you stir awake, alkaid reaches over and with careful fingers, he takes your pencil and inserts it between the binding of your sketchbook like a bookmark before flipping it shut. he decides against mentioning it to you until the next day. alkaid goes out of his way to find you on campus, “hey, i was looking for you.” “why?” “it’s just, um…” he trails off, turning hesitant as if he’s choosing his words carefully, “do you want to make a trade?” “trade?” before you can ask more questions, alkaid takes out what you think is a piece of paper from his pocket until you get a clear view of it and realize it’s a candid picture of you. sounding hopeful, he offers it to you, “this for your drawing of me.”

“there you are!” LARS says, beaming when he finds you working on an art piece in one of the academy’s studios. “hi,” you smile at him, “why were you looking for me?” lars shrugs, “just wanted to see you.” amused, you roll your eyes at his subtle flirting before getting back to work. you don’t mind lars’ company alongside his occasional praises, varying from that looks nice to i’d buy that. you actually like having him around. lars is going through your artworks when he suddenly speaks, “how much for this?” you tear your eyes away from your canvas to find him having one of your sketchbooks in hand. “which one?” you ask and you can’t even begin to describe your shock when lars turns it over. there it is facing you, the page where you did a drawing of him. you dart towards lars but he quickly gets on his feet, taking advantage of his tall stature to hold the sketchbook out of your reach. “give it back!” you snap but lars only snickers. “how much for this?” he repeats the question, more smugly this time. after a few failed attempts to snatch the sketchbook from his grip, lars eventually decides to hand it over. “you weren’t supposed to see that,” you grumble, tearing off that page and crumpling it into a ball out of embarrassment. you’re about to toss it in the bin when lars takes it from you, flattening the paper to look at the drawing once more. “can i keep it?” he asks sincerely. “it’s just a warmup sketch…” you mumble, your tone a clear contrast to lars’ boldness. for a few seconds, lars doesn’t speak as if he’s forming the words in his head, “did you draw me from memory?” when you give him a sheepish nod, the smirk on his face reappears, “you think about me that much?” you simply groan at his teasing which makes him cackle but he soon backtracks before you can grab the paper from his hand and dispose it. “thank you,” he says, “i really like it.”

you’re rushing to your next class when you run into CLARENCE, causing you both to drop your belongings. “sorry!” you squeak, crouching down to hastily grab your things and with a sigh, clarence follows suit. “running late again?” he teases. you throw him a lighthearted glare at the accusation before grumbling, “our professor dismissed us late.” you hear him chuckle at your retort but the sound comes to an abrupt halt. at his sudden silence, you slide your gaze over to him and you immediately realize why—he’s holding a notebook which is now opened to a page with a rough sketch of him on it. before clarence can say anything, you immediately yank your sketchbook out of his hands and rise to your feet. “um…” you begin to stammer while clarence remains quiet save for the sound he makes when he clears his throat. he’s unable to look you in the eye as he stands upright, now fiddling with his necktie with unadulterated focus. “i swear i’m not a creep or anything,” you explain weakly, a surge of humiliation washing over you, “i was just… practicing.” you wince upon hearing your words and you can’t help but apologize—whether it’s for the sketch or your lame excuse, you’re not sure. maybe both. “i’m sorry,” you tell clarence, “i’ll throw it away.” “don’t,” clarence answers a bit too earnestly that he himself is taken aback. “it’s…” he trails off, looking sheepish, “it’s a really good drawing.” you gape at clarence. that was not reaction you expected from him. saving himself from further fluster, clarence drops the subject and points at the time, “you’re already late for next period.” “shit!” “language,” he scolds you in his student council president tone. “sorry!” you don’t wait for a response before you’re running off to your next class. as clarence watches you disappear from view, he wonders if you’d let him keep the drawing if he asked.