my dearest dear || rylan oneshots, headcannons and more!

𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

pope is a rockstar.

𝐫𝐲𝐚𝐧

tw(s);; panic attacks, talk abt asthma attacks,  slight self harm, gore

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after the incident, after separating Dylan's hand from his body, it took some time, about 4 years in fact, for Ryan to accept and heal. the road down rejuvenation was long and painstaking, sure, but it was something he had to do, something they had to do. panic attacks varied in duration and intensity, but were equally terrifying. he'd shiver or violently tremble, tears leaving trails wet down his dark face. it ached all over, his mind and heart, his lungs. ryan suffered severe asthma, for the majority of his life. so these attacks never made it easier to deal with. he tried his best to grapple the air. to hold it in. to breath. it hurt to even try. he'd scramble to a wall, and dig his fingers into the ground until his already short-bitten nails started to wear and bleed. maybe the physical pain'll keep me from thinking about anything else, was his logic. he'd stifle screams, try his best to keep quiet, not to worry anyone.

another issue, although many, was guilt. the difference between then and now was guilt. everyday was a reminder. seeing him was a reminder. after, ryan returned to the radio-shack. he wished to see, like pain he wanted to keep pressing on. then there it was, lifeless, cold and pale on the ground. it still had its array of bracelets, covered in blood. ryan couldn't help but chuckle painfully. he couldn't cry. he'd cried enough that night. he could only stare at it, as he swallowed down his dry throat.

ryan could still hear dylan's screams of pain, his writhes of agony as the metal blade made quick work of his skin and bone, could still smell the iron in the air, the sickly smell of flesh as he gazed the hand.

it was as if a part of him died after he took a chainsaw to that hand. now all that was left was a lifeless void of oblivion, deep in his chest, much like how dylan was left with only a wrist.

but besides all angsty topics, after hackett's, ryan took on new hobbies. he wanted to try something different, apart from new podcasts and such. painting, and bird watching. these activities were calming, tranquillising. they were an escape. the common barn swallow. small and blue it is. a ryan favourite. amusing to watch flap and flutter its tiny wings, it was cute, reminded him of a certain someone. he'd spend hours watching them, hours lying in warm grass as the comfortable air surrounds him. peace at last. quiet and tranquility, finally.

++ more to be added 👨🏽‍🤝‍👨🏻