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drylan · 1 month

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angst. mean ryan and mean dylan. arguing. tension. miscommunication. ANGST. (but not dark fic please!)

tw: arguing/shouting, self-ableism, vague mentions of car accidents/death

"So, I'm just invalid now, is that it?" Dylan spat, flailing at Ryan angrily as the shorter man was pretty much tugging him back inside their apartment. His hair was a mess, his face was a mess, his clothes were a mess. He made a point of not letting Ryan help him at all today after a rather tense evening last night.

Ryan had drawn the line at Dylan trying to drive with one hand. He wasn't ready and had never even attempted to do that. And he wasn't really to risk having him get into an accident. "I didn't call you fucking invalid, dude, but I'm not letting you get in a goddamn accident-"

"You'd love that, though, wouldn't you?" Dylan shouted back, virile spewing as Ryan slammed their front door behind them. "Then you wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, huh? Then you wouldn't have to pity-fuck a freak like me?!"

"Oh my God, you're ridiculous!" Ryan could hardly handle it, the burning in his chest, the tears falling down Dylan's face. Those harsh words. "Do you really think that's what I think of you?'

"I know it is! I-I heard you, I heard you on the phone last night-" Dylan choked off, the anger giving way to pure anguish as he was far too overwhelmed to do anything but sit right there on the living room floor and sob into his one remaining hand. All anger fell out of Ryan, it being replaced with shame and guilt. "With Kaitlyn. I heard you. How-how you're tired, how...how I don't do anything for myself and-and you're always taking care of me and...I know you hate me..."

"Okay, okay, listen..." Ryan sat down in front of him. "...I did...I did say something like that. I don't hate you, though, I never could." Dylan scoffed. "I don't. Fuck. I am tired. And I shouldn't've talked about us with Kaitlyn like that. I-I'm sorry."

Dylan swallowed but remained silent, sniffling a little. Ryan tried to move in closer, to touch him, but he shifted back, not quite meeting Ryan's gaze.

"Babe, you tried to drive your Jeep. That...that you haven't driven since before camp last year, okay? I just. I know you're not happy. Being dependent like this." Ryan swallowed hard, voice shaking as he spoke the next few words. "And I just...I'm not happy, either."

"So, so this is it, huh? Goodbye, then?" He sniffled, trying to look defiant but the wobble of his bottom lip gave it away.

"No, no, Dylan. This isn't goodbye." Ryan scrambled a little, hands tucked in his lap and clenching, wanting so badly to touch and hold and reassure him, but he knew it wasn't welcomed at the moment. "Let's...see about getting you back into physical therapy. Maybe? If you're ready. Um, I know the appointments were a bit expensive but I've got some money saved up and...and we can make it work. Please."

"Why? You're not happy with me, so...so why bother?" Dylan's voice was getting raw, scratchy now.

"I'm not happy seeing you hurt. And I'm not...not happy worrying all the time if you're going to get hurt worse. Or...or having to do things for you when I know it frustrates you." Ryan sighed. "But I love you. You're it for me, Dylan. Forever. It's you or...or it's no one."

"Ryan-" He shook his head, blinking away tears.

"I mean it. Please. Please, look at me, Dylan." Dylan finally did, and Ryan reached his hands back over, taking Dylan's hand and residual limb into his hold. This time he didn't pull back. "I love you, Dylan."

"I love you, too." Dylan sobbed, melting into Ryan's hold then, the walls crumbling down as he finally let go, let himself feel. "It's just so fucking much, man, it's so hard and...and I'm scared, I know I'll never be the same. And I don't...I don't want to think it, but I'm worried you're only with me because you feel bad about...about this."

"Dylan." Ryan looked down at him and smiled, brushing back some of his messy hair. "Remember when I gave you my number at the hospital?"

"Yeah?" He sniffled. "What about that?"

"I wrote it before everything. Before the van. Before being in Mr. H's office." Ryan's voice full of something fond and sweet, truth. "I wrote it three weeks into camp."

"What?" He pulled upright, face red, but tears finally breaking for something more soft, more calm. "Really? I, but, you..."

"I had a thing for you like you did me." Ryan laughed. "You're just, y'know, better at making your intentions known."

Dylan laughed himself then, pulling Ryan back into his arms, before kissing him gently. "I'm...I'm sorry, f-for what I said and...and did, it was stupid, it was-"

"It's okay." Ryan shook his head. "We're done with it. It's over."

"Okay." Dylan nodded, flopping back into Ryan's hold and taking a deep sigh. "Okay." He echoed, Schrodinger peeking out over the stairs now that it had gotten much quieter in the room.

It would take time, and healing, and lots of therapy of all kinds, but they would indeed be okay.

#sorry i cant keep ever have a bad or unhappy ending even in my shorter ficlets so #my stuff #fanfic #ficlet #the quarry #drylan #rylan #radioheads #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Matured

Corpse Husband & Little Sister Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Sibling Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse’s search for a roommate ends shortly after his little sister calls him, telling him she’s moving out of her high school dorm in the suburbs following her graduation to attend college in San Francisco.

Requested by @bugger2002 Hi darling! Thank you so much for this adorable request, I had such a fun time turning it into a fic! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Alright, it’s been a month since Y/N announced she’d be moving in with me - no, she didn’t ask if she could nor if I’d want her to, she straight up casually informed me she’d be moving in with me since she’s starting college. I’m lucky she even thought to tell me, knowing her it wouldn’t have been so strange for her to just show up on my doorstep with a grin like “Alright, I live here now.” Having a six years younger sister who can act both younger and older than me - sometimes both at the same time - is a bit complex. Obviously, my protective and nurturing brotherly instinct kicks in whenever she complains to me about something, but seconds later she tells me she’s taken care of it already and I feel like a fool for overreacting even if it was only internal. She’s calm and rational when she needs to be and a reckless airhead whose only goal is to have fun when she wants to be.

And judging by her and her friends’ main methods of obtaining said fun I can see how much alike we are: playing drunk video games, drunk darts, drunk pool. You see, there’s a lot of drinking involved and that’s something I’m greatly unhappy with and have scolded her on countless times just to get a fake promise, probably with fingers crossed behind her back - that she’ll cut down the alcohol. Not to mention she’s not even old enough to drink so I’ve been very insistent on her cutting her bad habit. She’s tried calling me hypocritical at times but she can’t do so rightfully since I’m, you know, of drinking age. So she’s basically bound by law to follow my advice and orders.

At least now that she’ll be staying with me I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her. A rascal high school student will either mature-up in college or go even more downhill. I aim to make her fall in the first category, but I’m making no promises - she’s very unruly, just like me. Damn, never did I think my own traits would come hitting me in the back of the head like a boomerang but here we are.

Regardless of all the crap I’ve just spewed about her, she’s a wonderful girl. She’s always been my pillar of support and never gets tired of it. She never misses a call of mine and has never not replied to a message of mine, no matter how drunk she’s been. She’s never skipped a Saturday night Skype call, no matter how busy she’s been. She’s never let herself forget she has a brother who often times needs her by his side.

Once she even talked one of her friends who has a car and a driver’s license drive her all the way to my apartment complex when I was having a really bad anxiety attack and legit couldn’t talk on the phone. She went door to door to find which apartment I live in and stayed with me the whole weekend she was supposed to spend at a music festival or something. It’s not wonder she’ll be a med student - she’s always wanted to be a nurse and has practically been my personal nurse since she was twelve. She maybe wasn’t always physically present to help me, but she’s a great instruction giver for when I need her and she’s unable to come to my aid.

Well now, we’ll both be there to aid one another.

“BEEP BEEP FUCKER!“

I nearly flip off my chair at the distinct yelling coming from directly below my window. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it’d always bring a smile to my face without fail.

I rush to get up from my desk chair and open the window but when I do so, she’s no longer on the sidewalk. There’s only a car I recognize to be the one of the friend that drove her here during that nightmarish episode I explained earlier.

Before I can ever back away from the window, I hear my front door swing open and a yell echo from down the hall, “Corpse! How many times do I need to tell you to lock your door, damn it!”

“The same amount of times I’ve had to tell you to cut down on the al- WHOA!“ She doesn’t let me finish the sentence and jumps me the second I step out in the hallway.

“Missed you, stupid!“ She says, her legs wrapped around my waist as she ruffles my hair, “I’ll trim your hair later. Why have you let it get so long?“ She questions, furrowing her brows at me while running both her hands through my mess of a hair - she has a point, I’ve let it get out of control. While doing so, she seems to get an idea all of a sudden so she quickly climbs down, reminding me of the huge height difference we have now that her feet are on the floor. “I know you two have met before, but I think you need to re-meet...“ she says, turning to look at her friend who’s smiling timidly at her. She sends the flustered girl a wink before turning back to look at me, “Corpse, I’d like you to meet Abbey, my girlfriend“ she says proudly, skipping over to the blue haired girl and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Y/N pushes up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. It’s adorable to see her shorter than yet another person she clearly adores to annoy.

I smile at the two girls, holding back a chuckle as to not embarrass Abbey more, “Well then, nice to meet you Abbey. You should know you are one strong soul to be putting up with all that.“ I purposely don’t look at Y/N as I motion towards her, earning me a pissed off “Hey!“ as a response to my remark, “Stick around for dinner, don’t worry neither of us will be cooking.“ I point at myself and then at Y/N as if to reassure her she won’t be a victim of food poisoning.

“Actually...“ Abbey says, tilting her head to look my shortie sister in the eyes as if taunting her to say something.

She finally caves, raising her left hand as though she’s volunteering, “Ugh fine, I may or may not have taken a cooking course and may or may not know how to cook a decent meal. It’s whatever, really.”

To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I’m impressed, shocked, surprised and flooded with joy that my sister has finally decided to start maturing. “Cooking course, huh? When did you decide living off of takeout isn’t a nice way to live?”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh no I still go full weeks with only takeout and cereal, I just needed a distraction because...well...” she trails off, her gaze dropping awkwardly as she fishes for words or perhaps already has them found but doesn’t want to spit them out.

Abbey huffs, taking Y/N’s hand and lifting it to show off her wrist where I catch sight of a batch of colorful handmade bracelets, “Because these aren’t gonna earn themselves.”

I raise an eyebrow, puzzled as to what exactly she’s referring to.

Y/N sighs, taking one of the bracelets, playing with it nervously, “I have one for every month I’ve spent without getting drunk - Abbey made them for me. I need a distraction to stay sober so...I took up cooking.“

I can’t remember a moment I haven’t felt proud of my sister. Y/N’s always been on top of her shit, drunk or sober she knows what she’s doing. She’s mindful even when she’s reckless, thinks soberly even when she’s been drinking heavily. She’s always proved herself to me and to the people who think of her as a lowlife without even trying. She lets the world breeze by her without thinking too much of it and yet she still mesmerizes me and many of the people she meets - Abbey has now officially joined the club.

But, all things said and considered, I think I’ve never felt as proud of her as I do right now, seeing those six bracelets on her wrist - half a year without getting drunk. I know she wouldn’t lie to Abbey, she rarely lies to me too, so those bracelets have been earned and well-deserved and that makes me feel like the Y/N I remember is not the one standing in front of me right now. That silly girl is still in the suburbs, making a shitty-ass choice of messing up her liver. A grown woman, a responsible adult has taken her place though, and I couldn’t be more glad.

“Y/N...“ I finally manage to utter her name, making her gaze meet mine, “I’m so fucking proud of you.“

A smile slowly stretches the corners of her mouth upwards, her eyes shning in a way that has nothing to do with the lighting in this hallway. She’s not a crier though, I know those tears are gonna stay right there, stubbornly refusing to escape her eyes, “Thanks, Corpse. I’m proud of you too....” she says, nodding her head slowly, “I can overlook the untrimmed hair.”

Sigh

Y/N will always be Y/N no matter what I guess. That’s a good thing - I love her just the way she is.

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