#ive been watching this show for basically a decade now n this one bit still remains one of my favourite jokes ever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

omi-papus · 3 months ago

Text

Light The Lamp

Part:4

Ao3 link

Content: Age difference, ADHD x Autism, Ableist slur, Ice Hockey AU, Human Al-An AU, Drug use

Summary: Rookie ice hockey player Robin Ayou stuns the league with a controve./rsial but impressive debut, catching the eye of popular YouTuber Alan Silvester. Known for his hockey insights. After an awkward first encounter, he begs her to feature in one of his videos. And she after thinking shes found her new babygirl cant help but agree.

Word count: 8.6k

A/N: Not much to say. Glad I picked this up again. Took a while and this chapter is a bit short but its one Ive been waiting to write for a while.

What the fuck.

He was losing his mind. That's the only explanation. He got hit in the head without realizing, and now it was affecting him hard. This hadn't happened in years, how could it possibly be happening now?

It has to be some kind of mistake.

Its impossible.

But here he is.

Alan

He was

Bored.

He sat hunched over on the only chair in his dinning table, without food or drink, just himself in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday. The translucent blinds shut to keep the harsh sun rays out but still letting enough light bleed in as to make his whole apartment look sterile. His house was completely clean. His desktops, both in his office and at home were in perfect order, and most importantly, he had ten videos all recorded and edited, ready for posting on their assigned publication dates. Basically leaving him with two months worth of content already completed.

Now, this wasn't the first time this has happened. Hockey was a seasonal sport, so naturally there were periods where there was not much current stuff to talk about. In those times he would focus on more general videos, or analyze older games from decades prior. But this time, he had used up all the topic ideas he had listed out and had gone through all the games he wanted to cover. So basically, he was in a creative rut.

It really shouldn't be a problem. He was so ahead of schedule me could spend those two months doing nothing and it would be fine. But that's just it. Doing nothing wasn't part of his game plan. His routine involved twelve hours of work every day, with the rare exception of days he would work more. And now with nothing to do, how was he supposed to maintain that?

He tried to use his time getting his finances in order, but with Ryley around that was already mostly taken care of, and it had only taken him and hour to finish off all of his spreadsheets and payments. And now he could only sit alone, wondering what to do with himself.

When he was a commentator he would have been elated with this opportunity. Using the free time tow write on his hockey blog he had at the time. But now, his hobby was his job. So without work to do he didn't really have anything.

He thought of what he knew most people did when they had free time, went on vacation, watched TV shows, read books. He didn't like traveling. The only streaming serviced he had were sports centric and he didn't know of any shows that would interest him so he didn't have anything to pirate either. Same thing with books.

Alan had always known this about himself, but it was not often that he got reminded this harshly. Alan was a really one dimensional person. He had this one thing his life revolved around, and without it, he had nothing left.

There was another surprising feeling that was simmering within him at that moment. He was feeling lonely. There was a desire to complain, to talk to somebody about his creative block, about his boredom, about this deep emptiness he was feeling, but did he have anyone to do that with? Ryley was very strict about his work hours and professionalism, so he wouldn't allow Alan to talk to him if it wasn't completely necessary. His mother would just remind him of what he already knew, that it was pathetic to be that one note that your life falls apart the second you're unoccupied. And his friends… well that was complicated. One was a fellow commentator from back in the day, who still worked for the same network. Alan only found out later through receiving a drunken voice mail from him that he had actually never liked him, and that he found him creepy and annoying, and since then, even after the voice note was deleted, Alan didn't feel comfortable reaching out anymore. The other was a friend from college. Alan's chest ached when he thought of her. Kimberly was what Alan had always imagined a real friend was. She was the only person to ever find him funny. And would not only listen to him talk day in and day out but respond in thoughtful and interesting ways to everything he said. Alan hadn't ever felt someone truly get him in that way before.

But as they grew older things changed. Alan could precisely pinpoint it to the second she had her first child. She became a stay at home mother. Her husband, a seemingly nice guy at the beginning almost out of nowhere became extremely strict with what he expected of her, and very uncooperative in general. She would spend all hours of the day, cleaning, cooking and taking care of the children, adding the fact that after every kid was born, she was pregnant again not two months later. Alan watched as every conversation they had, if he could even reach her, would be about nothing but her children, housework, or her husband. Alan eventually became extremely worried and tried to talk to her about it, but she vehemently shut him down every time, claiming that this was her purpose and what she was born to do. The distance between them only kept growing, and eventually she told him that he should see her when he has children of his own, only that way would he understand. The last he knew of her was through a social media post showing her family of eight kids with another one on the way, before she disappeared off the internet too.

So yeah he couldn't really talk to her either.

He certainly wasn't talking to Amphi. His one and only ex he only dated for a month before she cheated on him.

Alan was bad with people. He had always thought of himself as an introvert but… he has seen how he gets when anyone gives him any amount of attention, getting way too excited, info dumping excessively and subsequently annoying people into cutting him off. He didn't know why he did it every time. Its not like anyone had ever asked for it.

"Everything has to go back to normal between you and me. Back to the random blocks of text at 3 PM."

The thought crossed his mind as quickly as a bullet. She was there. She kept constantly reminding him that she was there. Loudly begging for or outright demanding his attention. With such a clear and strange interest in him that it felt nearly overwhelming. She was hard to keep up with in a lot of ways. Sometimes making him painfully aware of how old he was getting. She could keep up a call all night if she wanted too, but he has not been able to pull that off since university. She had all these plans and all these friends she wanted to introduce him too. Furthermore, she had such peculiar taste in music he couldn't relate to at all. She was fun. Alan wasn't fun.

But Robin listened to him no matter how long he went on for. Usually responding with a tangent of her own. She would ask him all these questions about himself, and would seemingly relish in his answers, even if it was just telling her that his favorite color was green, but he didn't think it looked good on him so he didn't wear it.

It was six pm. She should be out of training by now. He could…

No.

She would decide when she wanted to talk to him. She probably called him up when none of her friends were available. It was best to do things at her pace. He stood up. He figured he'd give those videos he had done another rewatch. Maybe there would be some mistake for him to fix.

Is what he thought he would do, until he saw a notification come up on his phone. At that moment, all his blood ran cold.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin wondered if it was creepy, to listen to multiple hour long recordings of your new friend every day. It had turned into a habit. While washing dishes, at the gym, during runs, sometimes even in the shower, Alan's videos were background noise for her to listen to. In some ways she was proud of herself. She had changed from content farm fake Reddit story slop to something… educational? Yeah, educational was the word. They were full of facts and recommended readings, about hockey or sports in general. She couldn't imagine that Alan liked kids, but she did believe he would make a good teacher. She felt bad for being so adamant about personal coaching when he basically gave a free course right there. Apparently much more on his Patreon but again, she felt it would be a little creepy to treat your friend like a service.

She didn't tell him that she watched them. Well “watched” is a bit of an exaggeration. She used them more like an audiobook. He'd be super indignant about it, she just knows it. She occasionally tried to actually sit down and give the videos her full attention, these attempts usually didn't succeed, but it was the thought that counts. Today was one of those times, she sat on in front of the washing machine at the buildings' laundry mat, hunched over, phone in her hands. She struggled not to look at the clothes spinning instead.

“…and this is a great example of how the technique fell out of favor over the years,” Alan’s voice said, accompanied by grainy footage of a game from what looked like the late 80s. “The toe drag spin pass was effective when players relied more heavily on close quarters play, but it became less common as the pace of the game accelerated and defensive systems evolved to counter it.”

Robin tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she watched the footage. The player executed a slick toe drag into a quick spin, flicking the puck behind them to a teammate who scored with a clean wrist shot.

“While it’s rarely seen in today’s game, it still has potential situational value, particularly against aggressive forechecking systems. However, it requires precise timing and exceptional puck control, making it a risky choice for most players.”

Robin paused the video, the image freezing on the split second where the player’s stick curled perfectly around the puck mid spin.

The hum of the cheap white lights and the sound of the washing machines spinning could be heard even through her earbuds, but otherwise, it was quiet.

“Risky my ass.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin skated sharply, her lungs burning and her head pounding. It was tied 2-2, and the opposing team, the Degasi reapers, was relentless.

It hadn’t helped that this was Coach Maida's last team. She never specified how or why she stopped being their trainer but Robin could guess by her attitude that it wasn’t by choice. Her constant yelling from the side of the rink was more distracting than anything else.

She skated down the ice, weaving between two defenders with a quick deke, the puck glued to her stick. Her teammate was open on the far side, but the defense was closing in fast, cutting off the passing lane.

Robin’s instincts screamed to dish the puck wide and avoid the risk, but then she saw it, the tiniest gap, the perfect setup. Her pulse spiked.

Now or never.

She toe dragged the puck to her right, baiting the closest defender into lunging forward. Then, in one fluid motion, she spun on her skates, dragging the puck with her and flicking it behind her back.

For a split second, everything slowed. The puck sailed through the tiny gap between the defenders, landing squarely on her teammates stick. Miraculously, without hesitation, she fired a shot, and the red light blazed as the puck hit the back of the net.

The arena erupted, the goal horn blasting through the chaos. Robin let out a sharp laugh of disbelief, throwing her arms in the air as the teammate skated toward her, shouting, “What the hell was that?!”

Robin grinned, pulling her into a quick hug. “A little something I picked up,” she said breathlessly, still riding on adrenaline.

Her teammates surrounded her, slapping her helmet and shouting their excitement. As they headed to the bench, Coach Maida grabbed her by the arm.

“Ayou, where did that come from?!” She demanded, with that typical tone indistinguishable from anger. Robin wasn't put off by it, she could win them the olympics and shed still be mad. So Robin shrugged, unable to hide her grin. “Saw it in an old video. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She exited the stadium hopping up and down like a little girl. Her team had gone out for drinks, even Coach Maida was tagging along. Robin, oddly enough decided to turn down the offer. It didn't come without much concern and suspicion from the rest of the team. The worst accusation of the bunch was that she had gotten pregnant. She couldn't quite get them to believe that she was just tired and didn't feel up to going out that night, mostly because that wasn't true at all. It was embarrassing, really. Even trying to picture herself asking. Because what explanation could she possibly give for seeking him out instead.

She still paced anxiously around the entrance of the stadium instead of just hurrying up and calling him already. She could just leave him a text, but she really wanted to call him. Actually she almost exclusively called him, even when the exchange could be done with three or four texts. It wasn't… that weird, was it? She had never really liked texting. Yeah… Yes that was it.

Another part of her was genuinely giddy. She was already imagining the video he would make about this in her head.

He would finally make a video about her again, right? She used an outdated move to win in an impossible situation, that had to warrant a video… right?

She softly slapped herself in the face, that was a dumb thing to think about. Sam's accusations of her being on an ego trip coming back quickly. She shut her eyes hard and shook her head. Why did she care so much…? She shook her head one more time and opened her eyes, staring up at the sky. Just-… just talk to him. That's all you really need. She told herself.

It was a little easier to go through with it after that. She finally pressed the call button and waited with bated breath for a painfully short time while the phone rang without anyone picking up. And when she saw the “calling” message be replaced with a timer she compulsively started talking.

“Hey! Al! You saw the game tonight?! It was crazy, right?! Notice anything different?! What did you think?!”

“Robin, Robin. Its late, why are you calling me?” She could go as far as to say she even identified a little exasperation in his flat tone.

Her jarring smile immediately dropped, and she struggled with what to say for a couple of seconds. “I… wanted to… Ummm” she got stuck.

“Are you alright? Are you drunk? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

Her heart sank and sped up at the same time. “Ah- No! No. I'm sober I promise, I just…” she ran her hand through her hair and pulled in a significant lungful of air, “How do you feel about going out for Chinese food and talking about the game?”

It was his turn for him to get stuck. “Chinese food?”

“Or whatever you want. You can pick the place.” She shrugged even though he couldn't see it.

“It's too late for this.” He almost spat. Robins eyebrows shot up. There was something about the delivery of the words that she had only heard once from him before.

“Are you ok?” Maybe it wasn't the most reasonable thing to ask right away, but she was too confused to try to build up to the question.

“That's none of your business.” He was jarringly quick to respond. Robin would have stumbled back if she was with him. She blinked a couple of times before readjusting the phone in her ear.

“So you… aren't ok?”

“Why do you care? What is your obsession with being in my ear all the time?”

That irked her, but she was still under the impression that something was off. “Alan did something happen? You sound-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

She flinched. “Wow wow wow, don't you get like that!”

“Don't tell me how to talk. I'm not your little pet that you play with when you get bored. And you're an idiot for thinking I would just crawl to you whenever you want me to.” His tone was completely flat. To a downright creepy degree.

“Hey, don't you fucking call me that! What is wrong with you?!”

“What is wrong with you people?. You're all annoying and idiotic and can't handle it when I do anything.”

“Alan I don't understand you! What is any of this about?!”

“It's about you leaving me alone. I don't want to be told what to do. I'm tired of trying to be civil to everyone and it never working to get you or anyone off my back.”

“Why are you suddenly mad at me?!”

“I'm not angry. You're being dramatic.”

And that finally struck a real nerve. What right did he of all people have to call her that. “Oh really?! I'm just some stupid dramatic bitch to you?!”

“Here we go again.”

“Again?! Well maybe you should consider not treating me like a piece shit so often.”

“You're being irrational.”

“Yeah sure was being irrational at that interview wasn't I?!

“Oh my god you're bringing that up again?”

“And so what if I am?! It's not like you took it down you ass!”

“Listen I don't have time for this. Leave me alone.” He didn't leave a second before hanging up and leaving her with the rebuttal halfway up her throat.

Robin was just left there. Her breath fogging up in the cold air. It took everything in her to not throw her phone at the ground. Now what? She couldn't just go back to her team without being questioned.

It was a victory night. She was supposed to be happy.

Before she could process it, she was on her motorcycle. Helmet on, jacket tight, but she was not going home. She didn't know where she was going.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn't quite mad enough to ride with her helmet off. But the thought of it is making her wish she was. The sounds were muffled through the thick material and the visor made the passing light less bright. She could recall being fifteen. She remembered a lot of things about that time but one of them was impulsively stealing her fathers bike to spite him. It hadn't been her first time on one, but it was the first time she went full speed. Rammed through every stop sign and red light she could, barely dodging cars, with not a single ounce of care for her own safety. Her family sort of knew this already but she didn't think they truly understood the full extent of her feelings when that happened. She was ready to die that night. Not trying to. Not hoping to. But fully accepting that she could. But the main thing she remembers is the intensity of it all. The absolute blur of the world around her as she zoomed with reckless abandon. The cacophony of lights and sounds and the wind on her face that drowned out her thoughts.

Actually, thinking about it made her calm down. It usually did. She doesn't know if she could ever be that mad again. Which was frustrating in the strangest of ways. Her teammates would actually say she was similar to coach Maida, in the way that they were both so quick to anger. And she agreed. Because anger was appealing, it made things a little more… quiet in a way. She reveled in being able to zero in on one singular looping thought that would piss her off in perpetuity. Because fuck when else was her train of thought that clear? And she doesn't remember her mind more quiet than that night. Deep down she wished she could re live it. Definitely won't try to pull anything like that off again. She was lucky not to get arrested then, and she was not about to try her luck like that again.

Her grip on the handlebars was tight, her knuckles white as she weaved through traffic. Every sharp turn, every acceleration was a jolt to her system, forcing her focus back to the road and away from her own head. Hockey was similar in a lot of ways. She got angry playing too. It was nice, to have such a clear opponent. One singular enemy that you just had to defeat. Wished she could compartmentalize her life like that.

A few hours passed quickly for her. Her only real indicator of time passing was the fact that she was calming down enough to regret wasting all that gas. Robin was familiar with most of the city, but realized she had never been in the area that she was currently at. Bland, residential area, nothing but apartment buildings as far as the eye could see. The vague outline of the moon shined through the heavy smog, and as usual no stars accompanied it. She figured it couldn't be all that late despite how empty the street was if-

Oh, you have to be kidding me.

His snow white ass was identifiable from a kilometer away. Robin was so focused on how much the universe conspired to shove this man in her face that she didn't realize she had slowed down significantly and was slowly approaching the scene. Because he wasn't alone. Opposite to Alan was a slightly shorter blonde woman, talking unintelligibly but quite loudly. The clearer the picture became, the more she could see that the woman was actually approaching him quickly, and he kept uncomfortably shifting away. She pieced two and two together and realized that he was being yelled at.

Hah, served him right.

Eventually she got close enough that she couldn't keep looking without full on stopping, but she fully took the opportunity to get a good look at his face and…

He was crying. Not bawling or anything, just clearly holding back tears even when his expression was completely blank, which was the most she had ever seen him emote.

The fact that she had managed to keep the pace of the motorcycle just fast enough to get him away quickly but slow enough for him to keep up as she took his wrist in her hand and dragged him when she only processed that she was doing it when they were halfway across the block was a testament to her skill as a biker. She could feel him fighting her desperately, as well as hear the woman behind them screaming. They had turned the corner and she finally stopped. He was still fighting for his life to get away from her but he wasn't strong at all.

“Let go of-“

“Get on!”

“No!”

“You want to get away from her or not?!”

“I'm not going with you!”

“Listen Silvester I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now! So get on before I regret this!”

She could see his soul leaving his body when he heard his own last name but just as quickly saw a million different conclusions cross his mind until his eyes settled on his own reflection on the visor of her helmet.

“Robin?!” He somehow sounded even more horrified than when he thought he was getting kidnapped.

“Who the fuck else cares about you enough to do this?! Now are we getting out of here or not?!”

His eyes quickly scanned her and the motorcycle. “I don't have a helmet-“ He heard the loud screams of the woman getting progressively closer. Robin only tilted her head in the direction of the noise, he turned back to face her, his face contorted into a look of scared indecision that couldn't have looked more unnatural on him if it tried. “Why are you doing this?” Came out more breath than sentence.

“You think I know?!” She let got of his wrist and gripped the handlebars. Alan shut his eyes hard and merely vibrated with some emotion Robin couldn't hope to comprehend before his long leg easily got over the bike, he landed behind her. The moment his arms went around her waist was painful. The sheer awkwardness, the stiffness in both of their bodies and the split second spent realizing that this was the most they've ever touched. Any possible sentimentality or overstimulation in the action was lost when Alan had to grip her for dear life when she took off, and he had to press his face to what he could reach of her shoulder so that the wind wouldn't hurt his face. By then Alan already regretted it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin fully expected not to see him come back, when he left her in the alley, saying he'd be back in a moment, that he needed to get something. The only thing on the block aside from her apartment building was a liquor store. What he he expected her to believe? That he was just casually going to get a bottle of wine at one am when he had no idea where he even was?

It was actually a bottle of straight rum. Her eyes were wide when she saw him stomp back into the alley while tearing the lid off with his keys, and quickly collapsing against the wall and without so much as inhaling first, taking a swig.

“Wow” Was all that came out of her. He didn't even bother looking at her, he just wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and seethed for a long moment before sliding down the wall until he sat on the dirty ground, the neck of the bottle still firmly in his hand.

“I thought you didn't like to drink.” Robins tone came out more accusatory than surprised, even though she definitely was. Alan only scoffed and shook his head. “I never said that. I told you to stop putting words in my mouth.” Another swig, this one longer.

She didn't want to look at him so she leaned back on the same wall, looking at nothing but the dirty brick across from her. Alan didn't have the willpower to do anything but stare at his knees, every few seconds chuffing when he realized he was holding his breath for whatever reason. He felt so winded but so fidgety at the same time. He kept shutting his eyes with all of his strength hoping that would somehow clear his head, but that was as hopeless as everything else. The rational part of him was still there, telling him that this was a terrible idea, that he didn't know where the hell Robin had taken them, that his phones' battery was dying, and he had no way home. Which was frustrating, he took another sip from the bottle hoping it would kick in to turn it off soon.

“She probably thinks I'm dead now.” He still spoke into the stillness. His phone was turned off, because he knew it was blowing up with messages and calls. The guilt of knowing that gnawed at him regardless of his anger.

Robins head was starting to hurt so she undid her ponytail, a mess of curls falling on her shoulders and sliding down her back.“So. That your girlfriend or what?” She sounded particularly bitter when the words left her mouth. Alan blinked a couple of times like he couldn't believe he just heard that. “That was my mother.” He said dumbfounded as he turned to look up at her by his right.

Robins face scrunched, and she looked away, embarrassment tainting her cheeks, not that he could tell. “Well I didn't get a good look at her.”

He sighed and looked back down. He tried to picture how this whole scenario would end, and he couldn't come up with anything. He just glared at the label on the bottle, looking at the small letters that stated forty percent alcohol, he didn't feel nearly drunk enough for that to be true. That's what he gets for buying the cheapest bottle in the store.

“So do you plan on explaining yourself or am I just here to babysit your bender?” Robin spoke up after minutes of silence. A part of Alan wanted to bite back. To answer with some sharp stupid quip, but he couldn't come up with anything clever. And when he looked at her, pretty hair down framing her face in a way that only alcohol would let him appreciate. He realized he didn't want to be mad at her. “I'm… sorry, for how I talked to you earlier. It wasn't- it wasn't your fault I just…”

“You sounded pretty sick of me.” She crossed her arms, frowning in a way that was more hurt than angry. He looked at the plain brick wall ahead of them. “I was sick of everything.”

“And you just took it out on me?”

“Yes.”

She huffed indignantly, looking for dirt under her nails before sighing and shoving her hands into her pockets. His voice came out more softly this time. “So what was your mom angry about?” Alan shivered, not from the cold. “It's stupid.”

“I don't care, I wanna hear it.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I goddamn feel like it, now spill.”

He pressed his knees closer to his chest. He wanted to come up with some type of lie. But he knew it would never be convincing no matter how hard he tried. Robin looked down at him for a long time, her hands fidgeting with something she found in her pocket. Eventually, she thought he just wouldn't speak, until she heard the slightest whisper. “I turned my phone tracking off.”

She blinked a few times, not sure she got that right. “What?”

“I turned to stupid tracker off! The app was taking up space on my phone, so I deleted it! It doesn't matter! I'm only ever in the same three places!” He suddenly blew up, making Robin flinch. She furrowed her eyebrows, the edge of her mouth quirking downwards in a gesture of almost revulsion. “Your mom tracks you?”

“Yes! There I said it! I'm a fucking loser, now you know.” He snapped again, Robin could now see a bright flush on his exceedingly pale cheeks. He took another violent swig of the bottle. Already having made it through a fourth of its contents.

“Ok god if you're gonna be like that then don't mind if I do.” She pulled a joint out of her jacket pocket and a lighter from her pants. It took her a second to realize Alan was staring at her like she was the weird one. “You're not getting any.” She said flatly as she lit it up and placed it in her mouth.

“You just… have that on you?”

“No, I just found it in my pocket.”

“That's illegal???”

“Yeah yeah so is tax evasion, and you've seen what the team sponsors get away with.” She took a long drag, and blew the smoke away from him. Alan simply shook his head, this day had been weird enough for him to keep caring. They just sat there, indulging in their respective vices and Alan as he leaned his head against the rough wall could quickly feel the pesky voices in his head get quieter.

“She's always like this…”

“Your mom?” Robin's gaze was slightly dazed now.

“She can't just… let go, even for a second, it's insufferable.”

“What, like she goes through your drawers?” She meant it as an exaggeration.

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air.

She took a step back, raising an eyebrow. “Deadass?”

Alan ran a hand down his face, which was now noticeably warmer. “Yes.”

“Whaaaaat? Do you still live with her?”

“No but it still feels like I do! She shows up every other fucking day and just complains and complains about some dumb crap I don't care about!” He buried his face in his hands.

“Oh is she the type that secretly hates your guts?”

“N-no… No. It's not… She just never likes anything I ever do no matter what it is, and she can't live if she doesn't let me know it every second of every day and I just…”

“You should tell her to fuck off.”

“I don't want her to fuck off!” He yelled almost hysterically, holding his head in his hands. Robin, if she had more of her inhibitions would have realized that the best thing to do would be not to pry and to take the bottle away from him. But that was not the state she was in. “Why the hell not?”

“Because who else do I have!” He fully yelled at her now.”I have no friends! Nobody likes me! My dad disappeared into the fucking eather!”

“Ooooh I feel you there man.” She took another drag. Alan just squinted at her “What? You've got a father so radio silent he may as well be dead?” He sneered.

“Oh I have a dad alright. He just only talks to his “smart” children.”

“That's not the same.”

“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were at the suffering olympics.”

Alan just sighed and drank again, each time it burned less and less. “Whatever! The point is that my mother is the only one that is ever going to care about me, so I can't just ditch her!”

“Motherfucker does she even really like you?”

“I don't know…” He closed his eyes and griped the bottle hard with both hands as a pointless attempt at steadying himself. “I don't want to find out…”

“Do you really think you deserve that?”

“It's not about what I deserve, it's about what I have.”

“Well bitch what about me?! What am I doing here?!”

He raised a hand dismissively. “You'll get bored of me.”

“Oh my god, why did no one tell me we were at a pick me contest? If you're just waiting for me to leave then I can just go right now.”

“I didn't tell you to leave.” His voice cracked, but he still didn't look at her.

“Well maybe I should. You've done nothing but push me off the entire time we've been friends.”

“And you'll still be here.” He said that sounding mostly resigned, but there was an undeniable tinge of relief in his words. “Here you are, babysitting a grown man having a tantrum in an alley.” He laughed. An actual, hysterical, exhausted laugh. “Haaaaaaa I don't know if I'm your dog or your hamster.”

“The actual fuck are you talking about right now?”

“I'm your little project aren't I?”

She was too relaxed to really be offended. The smoke was starting to blend in with her condensed breath in the cold air. “You overestimate how good of a person I am. I know where to find an incel to rehabilitate if I was really that nice.”

“Well what other explanation do I have for you being so obsessed with me?”

She sighed. She briefly wondered if that liquor store sold chips or something, she was getting hungry. “Well when you've got your hypothesis, share with the class because I don't know why I'm still here either.” She squinted at the wall, arms crossing once again. “And what the hell is even your point? Am I going to ghost you or are you stuck with me? You can't just have both.”

“What?”

“You're contradicting yourself.”

“No I'm not.” He pouted.

“Wow you really need to put that bottle down.”

Alan wanted to elaborate. To explain his though process. Because it made sense to in his head. She would stay but she wasn't really there. She'd treat him like a friend but only because she'd keep him in his place so that she'd never have to look at him too closely. Yeah, he was more of a hamster. Kept somewhere small to look cute. And when the kid grew up and got bored of it, it would still be in that cage in their room. Not wanting him but still not letting go. But the only thing that came out of his drunken mouth was “What if you're just another mom.”

It took her a long time to even process that he said anything. And when the gears finally turned she only said. “Is that your kink?”

He made a disgusted face and hugged his legs, burying his face in his knees. Nothing coherent followed after that. Individual sentences slurred together into general ideas and what they were even talking about was completely random. But… after a while he realized he was making her laugh. That at some point she had sat down beside him, and that he hadn't been able to hold back from touching her hair and she let him. Their voices became softer, and she smiled as they spoked. She made fun of his red face, and he turned right back on her about her red eyes. Their conjoined smell was only outmatched by that of the dumpster not far from them, which they had to hide behind when a cop car drove past. Not that they would have actually gone unnoticed with how much she was giggling.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing he noticed were his feet dangling off at the edge of the surface he was laying on. The rest came overly, heavily, excessively slowly. The pounding headache was the second thing he was able to perceive. It made him close his eyes and sink into the pillow further. That's when he registered it, this pillow, it was not as soft as his own, in fact it was quite rigid. He tried to wrap himself tighter in the blankets, but they lacked the noticeable weight of his own special blanket at home. Then the smell. Pungent and strange, unlike anything he'd ever have at his hou-…

He shot up, making the headache much worse. The light of the open window glared in his eyes, and the loud sounds of the outside told him that they were on a second floor at most. The room was small and cluttered. What took up the most space aside from the clothes on the floor was the large bookshelf that stood right beside the bed.

Huh. She never told him she liked to read.

Despite the mental fog he was experiencing, the events of the night before were mostly clear. At some point he had gotten too drunk to so much as walk properly, and the next thing he remembers is being… carried on piggyback on a rusty elevator and then passing out. The shame wasn't evading him by any means. He felt like an idiot and a loser for getting carried away so easily and forcing Robin to deal with him. But also he felt intensely guilty for being in what surely must be her home. He felt around and could sense that his phone and wallet were still in his pockets. He noticed that his jacket was still on too.

Suddenly a churn in his stomach caught his attention, and just as quickly he felt something rise up his throat. He immediately jumped up out of the bed and stumbled out of the room, luckily the open bathroom was right across the short hallway, he lunged at the toilet just in time to puke out just about everything he'd ever eaten.

It was a long time before he could get up again, the headache worse than ever before. And now a compounding dizziness added itself to the roster as he flushed the toilet and limped out of the bathroom. The hallway took only two meters to lead him to the living room. A small space with a humble kitchen in the top left corner, and close by near the opposing wall was a raggedy green couch and a small TV. The rest of the space was taken up by plants. A lot of them looked to be the same kind. What plant was th- Oh. He remembered her smoking last night, and the smell was light but still present in the space.

He walked to the couch, and he did not have to get too close before he saw Robin sprawled over, nearly falling off, but still sound asleep, her hand on the coffee table, close to a fully emptied but still dirty bowl with remnants of some type of vibrant yellow substance. Her mouth was open and she was drooling. Her hair was a mess all around her.

She looked funny. He might even go as far as to say she was… cute. That was something. When had he ever thought of anyone as cute? Was it disrespectful? It took him a full minute to realize he was staring, and he quickly backed off, looking over at the door. He should probably leave, right? It was shady enough to be in a young woman's apartment when she was unconscious. She’d understand why he felt compelled to leave.

That was his plan until he felt his stomach complaint again and vile sliding up his throat, and once again he was launching himself to the bathroom. He kneeled by the open toilet, gaging multiple times, too afraid to get up as every two seconds he needed to expel again. Mostly water came out this time. This took far longer than he realized.

“Need me to hold your hair, princess?”

He heard a rough, airy voice that ran a shiver down his spine before looking up and behind him to see Robin smiling down at him lazily while casually scratching her armpit. Only then did he process that she had changed from the night before, now wearing a dusty green tank top and black sports shorts.

He wanted to die that very second. Even he could feel his face well up in despair. Robin's smirk turned to something more sympathetic. She knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his back. She didn't say anything for a moment, only rubbed it slowly.

And it did something to him.

Without meaning to, he felt himself absolutely melt into a pile of mush against the warm feeling. For just a second, the headache faded away, and he became enraptured in the gentle touch. How long had it been since somebody touched him like that? It was distressing to realize he didn't remember.

He unwillingly closed his eyes and sighed. And he nearly exploded when Robin took a hold of his face. He was slow to realize it was to make him look at her. He opened his eyes again and was met with her coy expression, and he was struck by the awkward thought that now more than cute she was… kind of handsome, oddly enough.

“You really drank yourself to shit, man.”

He shut his eyes hard again in embarrassment, all other sensations now competing with the sudden heat in his face for his attention.

“I'm sorry…”

They stayed like that for a long moment before another one of his senses perked up. He instinctively sniffed the air close to her and then drew back in disgust. “Ugh. You smell awful.”

Robin blinked dumbfounded a couple of times before bursting into laughter, regrettably letting go of him. The laughing fit lasted an uncomfortably long time for him, before she playfully punched him in the shoulder. “So do you!”

He grumbled, sat his ass on the floor and leaned his back against the wall with his head against the toilet. The only reason he didn't wish the earth would swallow him whole was because Robin began rubbing his arm.

“Anything hurt?” She asked gently. He reached out for some toilet paper to clean his mouth before answering. “My head…”

“Ok. I'll have to make a quick run to the pharmacy to get you some Ibuprofen and maybe like a Gatorade or something.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to do anything, I'll head home and take care of it there.”

She only barked out a laugh. “Like that? No sir. You're not going anywhere, at least until you stop vomiting.”

He let out a frustrated choked noise and tried to get up. She did help him. And suddenly he was leaning on her. Robin was surprisingly steady for someone shorter than him. Her arm looped under his, her hand gripping his side to keep him from toppling over. He hated that he needed the help, but his legs wobbled like they weren’t even his, and the pounding in his head made every step feel like he was walking on nails.

In a moment, he was plopped into the couch like he was a rag thrown into a hanger. He was able to sit properly now. Hands gripping his knees as if that would keep him upright. Robin leaned down and propped herself on the backrest of the couch behind him. She stared at him for a minute, he noted uncomfortably, but didn’t dare say anything.

“You're one hell of a drinker, huh?” She asked, not completely serious but quite a bit less friendly than before.

“I'm not an alcoholic.” He was quick to defend.

“I never said you were. It just surprised me.”

“You're not great yourself.” He mumbled defensively, gesturing at the plants. “I wouldn't be risking my health if I was an athlete.”

She smirked, “Oh you sweet puppy, you have no idea what the average player is putting in their body every other week. You'll hear them talk a big game about dieting, and then you will never see anyone do more ketamine in your life!”

“I know that. I told you I've met players. And don't think I haven't been forced to attend a party or two.”

She rested her head on her hand. “And did you have fun?”

“No.” He stated flatly. “I will be happy never attending another party or going into another bar again.”

“If you don't go to bars or parties, where did you learn to drink so hard?”

He stayed quiet, looking away from her and down to his knees. Robin clocked it immediately.

“Wow, that's depressing.” She mused casually.

“Fuck off.” he grumbled, gripping his head, which was pounding again.

“Alright alright, no need to get aggressive.” She got up and started looking around for her things.

“Sorry.” He let out. She only nodded. After around two minutes, she finally found her jacket with her phone and wallet in it. “Hey, it's one in the afternoon, you want me to also pick us up some food? I'll get you like some soup or something.”

He felt himself become flush again. “You don't have to do that…”

“We can split the cost fifty fifty if you've got some cash.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before he sighed hard, letting his entire body sag against the couch. “So am I just having breakfast at your house? Is that it?”

She smirked again, holding back a laugh. “Well, you should have thought of that before getting wasted in an alleyway with me.”

He gave up. He pulled out his wallets and handed her fifteen. He laid on the couch while she got ready to leave, he could hear her, getting distracted on her phone, complaining out loud about where she left her bra, and even turning on her music to take a shower. He listened in a lot more intently than what was probably normal, but it helped him distract himself from the pain and nausea.

After thirty minutes, Robin was ready to go and at the door. “I'll be back in a minute, don't puke on anything.” She got out the door and was starting to close it. But before she could, he shakily sat up and called out to her. “Wait Robin!”

She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

He breathed in to gather courage. “Thank you. For last night. For now. Thanks a lot.”

She smiled tenderly. “No problem Al.”

“I promise that I'll make an effort to contact you more and spend more time together.”

Robin blinked in slight surprise, her cheeks warm. She looked down at her feet. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

“But I do want to. You're basically my best friend.”

Her heart, more than skipping a beat, punched a hole through her chest, popping more than a few blood vessels. She could only manage a shaky smile and a meaningless response before she shut the door. She leaned against it, her hand on her chest, feeling her suddenly spiked pulse.

Without meaning to, an almost manic smile took over her face, it took everything in her power not to dissolve into a fit of giggles, and jump around like a middle schooler. Instead, she happily trotted her way to the stairs.

Alan plopped back down onto the couch. A large part of him was considering falling asleep again. But when he tried, the headache was too distracting to go anywhere. So like the only thing he really knew how to do, he thought.

Best friend.

He really just said that. He didn't quite… regret it, per se. Because at this point, logically it was true. The thing is that it was true purely by process of elimination. She was his best friend because let's be honest, she was his only friend.

“Who the fuck else cares about you enough to do this?”

Even she was aware of it, and seemingly resigned to the fact. The whole ordeal of the night before seemed like a massive hassle to her, up until the point where she was literally on drugs. Like she did everything out of obligation. He didn't know why he was acting like he didn't know this. She had told him so before. That she stuck around because she knew he had no one else.

What surprised Alan was that this didn't upset him much.

Because, who else would ever say something like that to his face? Who would just admit to seeing him as a charity case? That was something unique to Robin. Something that made her so… easy to be with. She was easy to read, half the time he didn't even have to read at all, he just had to listen.

And a tiny, weak, exhausted and lonely part of him thought that might be a fair trade off. Because he didn't quite believe she liked him, not fully at least. But it was different with her still, it didn't feel like she just put up with him the way Ryley and Amphi did. She asked questions, she sought him out. She went to save him, even when he had pushed her away. What he had concluded last night but couldn't articulate still felt true.

He was her hamster. Her little pet that she would still play with even if it bit her. And Alan was being forced to realize that maybe he didn't have as much self respect as he thought he did. Because when he seriously asked himself, he realized he didn't really mind being a hamster. Being held safe in his little plastic cage, well fed, with plenty of bedding to dig into, to make himself at home.

#subnautica #subnautica below zero #robin ayou #al-an #al an #al an x robin #fanfiction #hockey au #light the lamp

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komoreangel · 4 years ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

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