i wrote alan sfw angst on his birthday. i think i owe him an apology.
a/n: writing this hurt and idk if there’ll be a part 2 lol nvm i have an idea 4 part 2 BUT it will not be a happy ending! i fear i am an angst lover… this is heavily inspired by a breakup i went through about 6 months ago that put a very abrupt end to a 5-going-on-6 year relationship. it was a lot 2 process but please none of the “im sorry 4 ur loss :(“ bc it absolutely was not a loss lmfao. every day im just glad i decided that i don’t wanna put myself through that anymore. he’s a good guy and i wish him well but that’s the last time i date a straight man ever. yippee!
disclaimer that i like alan lmfao he’s not one of my favs but i do feel a little guilty abt posting angst of him on his bday. sorry alan. ill make it up 2 u i promise ٩(´∀`)۶
sorry in advance!
summary: you and alan are falling apart. you have one month left.
cw: THIS IS 100% SFW BUT MINORS STILL D NI im not writing porn rn. idrk if there's anything 2 warn 4 besides angst and yelling. okay enjoy!! not proofread
You storm out of Vagastrom house again, pretending none of this affects you again, only to cry when you get home and bury your face in your pillow again.
When tasked with undoing a very large, heavy, and thick knot, how do you start? Both parties know it would be far easier to cut into the knot and separate the string into two with scissors, sharp objects and sharper words, ignoring the regret and the soured feelings and anything they can’t take back, all to untie the knot. But when you love someone, you want to take the time to undo it with them and put genuine effort into it. You want to undo it gently rather than harshly, finding the source of the knot and carefully pulling at it, unraveling it, ensuring that the string stays together and intact.
But sometimes patience runs thin. Sometimes time is short. Sometimes frustrations run high. Sometimes the promises you made to each other to keep trying fade to the background as you both get caught up, irritation growing at how long and how thick and how imposing the knot is. You start thinking that maybe the both of you just need an out, the easy way. But you don’t want to let go without reason. So you put up with it. Both of you do.
During this last argument with Alan, you reveled in the way his hands curled into fists at your words, hoping that for once he would give you a justifiable reason to leave. The depths of his anger terrified you, but you can’t decide if it’s love or fear that keeps you from becoming a victim of it. At first, you were sure it was love, but when your faith began to waver in your relationship, so did your faith in him. You were sure he felt the same, as you were getting annoyed with the doubtful glances he’d send your way when he next saw you after another mission ran late and you had to cancel yet another date. You didn’t like canceling the dates, but after you finally finished a mission early, and found time, the date you went on was disastrous. You found yourself the subject of probing questions, lackluster conversation, and an overall depressing atmosphere. It was not what you were hoping for after doing your best to free up your schedule for once. This ruined any motivation you had to free up your schedule again, and in turn, dates became sparse. Even the question to spend time together felt more like a desperate plea rather than a casual request, on both ends. You couldn’t read his mind, so you had no way of knowing if he was equally as displeased, was trying, or just didn’t care, but the more time passed, the more you found yourself not really caring what his thoughts were. You began to revert inside yourself, focusing on yourself. Maybe this would be fixed if you could make sure you were alright before pouring any more of yourself into this relationship. You had too much to worry about, after all: the curse, you dying in a very short time now if a cure wasn’t found, juggling the ghouls, running errands for Jin and Tohma, racing back and forth between classes and missions, and finding crumbs of time between it all and painstakingly separating it between spending time with friends and spending time with Alan. You were sure he also had a lot of things on his plate as well, but with how clouded your mind was with anger right now, you couldn’t be bothered to try and see things from his point of view.
When you think you’ve bawled enough into your pillow about literally everything happening all at once, you pick yourself up from the bed, allowing your body to sag in a seated position at the edge, looking out the window. It looked like it was due to rain soon, the clouds covering the sun from peeking through at all. You wondered if Alan was looking out a window at a similar view, just a brisk walk away, before scoffing to yourself. No, not likely. After a fight like that, he’d want to blow off steam, so he's probably sparring with Sho or working on another car. Funny how you could still know him, even if he felt like a completely different person now. Some parts of him were exactly the same as they had been when you’d fallen in love with him.
You’d had a crush on him for a while at first, watching meekly from afar, too spooked to confidently approach him directly. You’d always been fond of the gentle giant types, and that was essentially him, if you put aside his haunted past and violent tendencies towards anomalies. He knew how to control his anger at least, and always made an attempt to be kind to you. He was quiet, but welcoming and warm. When he opened up to you, he even began to smile when you were around. He took the time to teach you about car parts, not that you were really paying attention and more so looking for an excuse to hear him ramble about something he liked. He’d even listen to your endless drivel, whether it was about missing home, other ghouls, stressful missions, or just needing to sort all your thoughts out. He was always there to listen. Maybe he wasn’t the best at offering advice, and would refuse a hug if he was covered in sweat or motor oil, but his gentle smile oftentimes felt like enough. And it was enough, for you. You knew you were completely head over heels when he took you for a drive once, surprising you with an R&R permit for no particular reason other than just on a whim. Of course, you agreed. Why not spend some time away from Darkwick with your favorite ghoul? It was just a simple drive, but it turned into something else when you stopped for burgers and shakes at his favorite fast food place. Then you stopped at an arcade and he beat you at every game, except the crane game, though you were sure that was totally dumb luck. Then he took you back to Darkwick and you talked in the car for hours about everything and nothing, with the windows rolled down and your seats reclined, until he fell asleep. You remembered watching his eyelids flutter shut, still responding to your questions with his eyes closed, until his responses stopped. You remembered looking over, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the slight part of his lips in a soft snore, the moonlight pouring through the window of the Vagastrom garage and illuminating his every minute detail. You sat there for a while, studying him, feeling a cheesy smile grow on your face and your heart thrum with telling emotion. Yea. That was when you fell in love with him.
You only realize you’re crying when a sob racks through your body, forcing you back into reality. Your eyes readjust from the imagined memory of sleeping Alan to the peaceful rain outside. Something about those two scenes didn’t feel all that different. Even the context wasn’t all that different, either. Falling in love, and falling out of love… was that what was happening? A sickening pit falls in your stomach, and you find your expression turning into a frown before you know it. The thought doesn’t go away. It sticks. And it’s been sticking for months now.
It was when you’d noticed that the two of you had been growing apart for a while. You’d been swamped with missions and classwork and the ghouls themselves, and he’d been busy with sorting out cases and classwork and his other duties as a Captain. Before you knew it, it’d been longer than you could count on all your fingers since you’d last seen him, if not in passing. It bothered you that not seeing him didn’t bother you. It bothered you that you’d been so focused on work that you hadn’t had much time to donate to him. It bothered you that he’d been so focused on work that he hadn’t had much time to donate to you. It was to be expected, living on this hellish campus, but still. You two had made it work before. When you’d approached him about it, he’d been working on a car, laying on the car roller underneath it. The students hanging around in the garage pointed you in his direction, not that you’d needed their help. You knew where he would be. You knocked twice on the car door, and he stopped his work, rolling himself out from underneath the car. He blinked at you for a moment before offering you a nod and a tiny smile. “Honor Roll.” Even after months of dating, he still hadn’t stopped calling you that. Not that you minded.
“Hey, Alan.” You sat down next to the car roller and leaned back against the car. He sat up and mimicked your position.
“What are you here for?” Alan asked, spinning a wrench between his fingers. He was nervous.
“To see you.” You clasped your hands together to keep yourself from wringing them nervously, though you were sure he already knew that was a habit of yours.
“Mm.” He hummed in response, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the car door. To most, this reply would seem lackluster, but you knew he was giving you the floor to speak.
“...I haven’t seen you in a while.” You looked away from him as you said this, instead choosing to fixate your gaze on the garage floor beneath you, covered in dust and grime and motor oil.
“Me neither.” From the shifting noise you hear, you could assume he’s turned his gaze to you, but you weren’t ready to look at him yet.
“I’m sorry. About being so absent all the time.” You forced the words out before you could think about them, drawing patterns into the dust-covered floor.
A heavy sigh. “It’s hardly your fault.” Another shift and he’s looked away from you again. “I’ve been absent, too.”
He was right, he had been. “I don’t wanna be absent anymore, Alan.” You turned to him, wiping your finger free of dust and folding your hands in your lap again.
He turned back towards you, a soft smile on his face, far truer than the small one he’d offered you in greeting. “Me neither, Honor Roll.”
Your heart felt warm all over again. “Well?” He wasn’t one to always let you take initiative, you knew that.
He stood up from his car roller and tossed his wrench to the side. He was covered in sweat and motor oil, but for once, it didn’t seem like he cared. He held a hand out to you, smiling. “Let’s go.”
You didn’t care where you were going. You just knew he was gonna take you somewhere. And that was all you needed. It was silent, but between you both, a promise had been made. You would keep trying. You would keep pushing forward. You knew you still loved him in the way you eagerly broke out into a run after him, his sweaty, rough palms struggling to keep a solid grip on yours. He smiled brightly back at you and continued on his way, pulling you along. It didn’t matter where you were going, so long as it was together.
You bury your forehead in your hands, breaking the temporary spell of that memory. It was darker outside now, the rain still gently pattering on your window. There were things you had to do tonight, like get dressed for bed, eat something, maybe distract your spinning brain with a good book or a movie on your laptop. But strangely, as those things came to your mind, each one seemed more boring than the last. You didn’t have the energy to change. You didn’t have the appetite for food. Your laptop was too far away and you didn’t feel like leaving your bed. You plop right back down on your side, trying to resist the tears that threatened to spill. Even when the two of you had started growing apart, there was still hope. You’d started off strong and made such an effort. What happened? It was like that love you’d tried so hard to cultivate, revive, and strengthen had just fallen apart further than it had before, crumpled and dry and lonely. You’d tried so hard. The knot that had been growing between you had been a daunting task to rid yourselves of, but you’d managed. Why was it bigger now, worser now? Did you even have the energy to put yourself through this again? It had fallen apart so quickly, like the promise had just been forgotten.
You wish you could bring yourself to not think about this anymore, but your brain keeps coming back to it. You stay curled up in bed, periodically checking your phone, staring at WickChat, wishing with all your might that Alan would send a message. You knew it probably wasn’t going to happen, not after all you’d said a few hours ago, but some part of you still hoped it was salvageable.
The fight had been just waiting to happen, when you think about it. The two of you, for whatever reason, had been finding reasons to disagree with and avoid each other more often than not. The relationship hadn’t felt like a relationship anymore. You knew you’d been too emotional to handle things properly, but you didn’t care. When you’d stormed into Vagastrom, you were just grateful nobody was around to see you so high-strung. Alan doesn’t even come out from underneath the car he’s working on, probably too peeved to care much. You already can’t even remember what it is you’re angry about. All you know is your frustration with him has piled up and reached an all-time high.
“Alan.” You almost end up barking his name out, too frustrated to focus on the tone of your voice. His heavy sigh just peeved you further.
He’d sat up from underneath the car and stood to face you, his expression flat and exasperated. “Yes, Honor Roll?” He’d been twirling that same wrench around his fingers. The action you’d found endearing before had just turned annoying.
You’d huffed out a sigh in response, having heard the tone of his voice in response to yours. Responding with bitterness would be childish, but that’s what you had done. “We need to talk.”
“About?” Alan grunted and turned away from you. He’d been trying to show he was disinterested. And you weren’t going to let that slide.
“Us, clearly!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice. You’d felt all the old frustration bubble up all at once.
“Mm.”
“And there you go again!” At this point, you had stopped trying to keep quiet out of decency. It didn’t matter anymore. You found yourself almost yelling out of frustration. “All you do when it comes to conversations like this is hum at me or sigh!”
That had used to be so endearing. Why was it so annoying now?
He’d muttered something that you couldn’t hear, but you hadn’t cared.
“I keep telling you, I’m trying!” You’d smacked your hands together to put emphasis on the words, at a loss for how else to get the importance of this across. “I keep trying to make this work, I keep trying to get off of missions early, but I don’t always have the time! It’s just as frustrating for me as it is for you!”
Alan knew you weren’t done, so he hadn’t responded, turning away from you and busying his hands by organizing a nearby toolbox.
“And not getting to see you sucks, you know?” You had swallowed as you’d said that. The words tasted too close to a lie. You had then faltered, trying to find something else to say.
Alan sighed again. Your anger spiked again.
“And could you stop sighing like that, and give me an actual, genuine response?!” You’d watched his hand tighten into a fist as you’d said that, and you’d flinched away, feeling your stomach rumble with terror.
He breathed a steady breath, as though he were cooling himself off. “You want a genuine response?” He’d asked, though you knew it was rhetorical. “Fine.”
He turned towards you, his eyes blazing with anger. His free hand was still curled in a fist, his other hand had been closing the toolbox. His voice was a low rumble, the angriest and most threatening you’d ever heard it. “Go home, Honor Roll,” He’d said.
And go home, to the chapel, you had.
You’d kicked rocks all the way there, and now here you were in your bed, with sore toes and not enough energy to go and kick rocks in the rain.
Alan was justified in feeling neglected. You were justified in feeling frustrated. Neither of you was justified in taking your anger out on the other person. That hadn’t even been your first big fight about that subject. It must’ve been the third one in two weeks. Sometimes he said more, sometimes you said more, sometimes you both did little more than glare and huff at each other.
You turn over in your bed, opening your phone again and checking WickChat. Nothing, like you’d expected. You try not to let it disappoint you, knowing you probably wouldn’t want to hear from him anyway. You flip open your calendar.
Five months. It’d been a little over five months of this. And you’d started dating him around six months after you got here. You still weren’t cured. You had maybe a month left, give or take.
One month.
You roll on your back this time, staring up at your ceiling. The shock that you were going to die had long since passed. You were resigned to it now, used to the pitying looks the ghouls gave you, even hearing the sobs some of them tried to keep quiet. You had tried to remain cheery through it all, but this relationship with Alan was weighing on you, becoming more of a burden than a blessing. The failing relationship, the depressed mood on campus, the pitying looks, the rushed work, everyone suddenly desperate to find a cure - it’d all become too much. Tears spill from your eyes yet again, but you don’t stop them this time. You continue to lay starfished on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.
You idly think of the flowers on your back that had started out sparse and have since become an overwhelming garden. You think of the memory of the eye of the Kyklos. You think of the ghouls. You think of home. You think of the sage ring, still on your right ring finger. You think of the chancellor. You think of the professors. You think of rainy days at Hotarubi and wild weather at Jabberwock. You think of the frosty chill of Frostheim and the blazing heat of Sinostra. You think of the cool nights at Obscuary and the humidity of Vagastrom. You think of the weird chill at Mortkranken that you were sure was more closely associated with fear than the temperature. You think of everything at Darkwick. All of the anomalies you’d captured (and promptly destroyed), all of the adventures you’d had, all of the friends you’d made.
And then you think of Alan. Your heart weighs heaviest when your mind turns to him. The tears seem to spill faster, not that you could really tell. Thinking of all that you were going to miss had already blurred your vision enough.
You had one month left. Did you want to spend it trying to fix something that was failing? Would one month be enough time to fix it? Would you die trying to? Would you die, bitter and unhappy? Would things be fixed by then?
Were you willing to bet your final four weeks on a simple “what if things get better”?
The sobs finally come, racking your body. It was over.
Tomorrow, you’d have to face that.
And tomorrow, you did.
You make your way over to Vagastrom in the early morning, your steps timid and slow. You knew he’d be awake, probably skipping out on sleeping the previous night, spending hours fixing his car instead to throw his mind into other things.
And sure enough, you find him, sitting on the hood of his car, dark bags under his eyes. The dorm is practically silent this early in the morning. He’s twirling a wrench in his hands again, lost in thought. The habit is neutral to you now. Not endearing, not annoying… just, neutral.
Your heart sinks. This really was it.
Your footsteps clack on the floor, finally catching his attention. He fixes you with a gaze you can’t quite read, and one you probably don’t need to. You were sure your expression looked similar.
He shifted over on the car hood, making space for you and patting the empty space next to him. You hoist yourself up and plop right next to him, listening as the rest of the world wakes up. The birds start chirping with the rising sun, and the nighttime crickets finally silence their song. Your throat feels dry. But you push on anyway.
“...This isn’t working.”
He shakes his head in response, not looking at you. You don’t look at him either. “...It’s broken.”
“Yeah.” You respond, feeling tears return to your already puffy eyes. You don’t bother wiping them away. “We tried to fix it.”
“We did.” His response is as terse as ever, and you can’t tell if you want to cry or laugh. You’re closer to crying, really, but a familiar, rueful smile pulls at your lips, just a little bit. You’re about to respond when he speaks up again. “Sometimes things are… too broken to repair.”
You don’t miss the way he nearly chokes on his words. His voice sounds almost hoarse with how weak it is. Your heart clenches. You blink rapidly, feeling your eyes burn.
You turn to him, looking up at him with a melancholy expression. “...And, what do you do with things that are too broken… to repair?” You almost choke on your words yourself, but hold it in, turning away as you finish.
“You break it apart. Sell it for parts. Look for something new.” Alan’s voice wavered as he nodded to himself, pursing his lips. You could tell his eyes were watering. He was still spinning the wrench in his hand.
“...Yeah.” You look towards the sunrise through the window, watching the dawn of a new day.
You sniffle, unable to control your tears anymore. They spill forward. You don’t know how many times you’ve cried in the last 24 hours. It’s almost funny to know that this won’t be the last time. Your sobs are quiet, but still make some noise. Alan does not reach out to comfort you. You are thankful he doesn’t.
“I’m sorry.” Your broken voice is hardly above a whisper. The tears don’t seem to stop flowing. You don’t reach up to wipe them away.
When you hear Alan sniffle, you almost startle, turning towards him, surprised. You had only seen Alan cry on rare occasions. But, you don’t let yourself be surprised for long. The tears are small and quick, cutting through the overnight dirt and grime on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, too.” His voice cracks and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, letting his head hand forward.
Only a few tears slip through before his sobs stop, his breathing returning to steady and normal. Your sobs weren’t done, but they were clearing up, slowly. You take note of his free hand, placed on the hood of the car between the two of you.
Whether it’s poor judgement or a final goodbye, you’re not sure, but you place your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. Almost immediately, he lifts his hand and holds yours, gripping it tight one last time. He doesn’t look at you, and you don’t look at him.
You hold hands for a minute before your grip starts slipping, and his does as well. You pull your hand away and boost yourself off of the car hood, returning your feet to solid ground. You turn around to look at him, hunched over, morning sunlight gently caressing his form and dipping him in gold.
You inhale deeply, before exhaling harshly, blowing the air out of your lungs. “See you around, Alan.” You summon your widest smile, tears still spilling down your cheeks.
He cannot return one as wide, but he smiles anyway, dried tear tracks on his cheeks. “See you around, Honor Roll.”
And with that, everything was back to the way it was again.
When you exit the Vagastrom dorm, the rising sun is peeking far above the horizon. The sky was slowly turning from dawn red to turquoise blue, bringing on the full form of a new day. You look up at the sky, dotted with clouds, and let the sun warm your skin just a little. You had one month left to enjoy it. And now, you would do it freely, with nothing weighing you down.
happy birthday alan!!!!!!!!!
i wrote this in one sitting. cheers. clearly my autism knows no bounds.
ik nobody wants 2 read alan angst on his birthday so im sure this won't get much, but usual note that i appreciate likes, but especially tagged reblogs, comments and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please enjoy!
songs i listened 2 while writing this:
honestly - thorns ft. kasane teto (had this on loop for hours after i finished my shift at work. insane. "honestly, i don't know if i'll ever change, and honestly, i don't know if you feel the same, and honestly, there is nobody here to blame for all the things i want, and all that i don't! but honestly, i don't care that you went away, and honestly, i don't care that you didn't stay, and honestly, i don't know if i'll ever say that none of this was true, i'm not being honest at all!" straight heat and directly related 2 the plot.)
tangentwithtanner
prguitarman
stormborns
dailybridgerton
izzy806
areudirty
