✱ i don't want you to get hurt, but you have to understand… the more you annoy me, the more i can't help thinking about deconstructing you. molecule by moleculememory by memory… until there's nothing left but screaming, traumatized atoms.
𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺 𝙿𝙷𝙾𝙴𝙽𝙸𝚇 / 𝙹𝙴𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚈. written by ocean.
❛ plenty of things, but it makes sense. well some of it. ❜ playing cat and mouse, much like constantine on the verge of trapping michael for an old friend named the devil. ethan really just likes tapping into insecurities. playing with fear. clary is no danger to him, not even the emo gang she was locked into the day their apartment was destroyed. he sees things because a part of him isn’t human. many tarot cards depict a prophecy of a coldblooded vessel that could usurp the king of all things dead and tortured.
but rumors are just rumors, small talk between brainless humans far too bored to be productive. ❛ got any marks yet? ❜ an old friend apart of the shadowhunters gave ethan his own embedded protection. a man who feels no pain, could easily use their weapons in his favor. he who is fallen, is nephilim and ever so close to the side of hell.
@leuthros cont.
Why did she have to lead with missing him, feeling as if she’d fucked herself already; he held the cards now, and she was weak, wondering when she’d become this person so willing to let him gouge out her insides, to take a knife to where she was soft, within. A breath that felt haggard and pained within her chest only echoed, looking up, blinking fast, feeling the burn come and go, with no clean up crew required. It would have been better to start with him looking good, and asking if his rehab clinic knew he was out here with her today. Or maybe it was new drugs, oh how, he loved his designer highs and his beautifully crafter crime sprees. She loved it too, but only with him, that way they cemented their fucked up ethos when in each other’s company. The fallacy was feeling herself special, but she’d learned too many times what that meant for a girl like her, not nearly as unforgettable as her ego would have her believe. Bruised but not broken, eyes glancing his way, but hardly seeing him, even as the edges of his reality brushed against her own. “What. You think I’d let those rainclouds in?” her voice taking on all that twisting sarcasm she needed, almost wincing at the sound of it, but holding steady as he rounded about, moving, touching, his hands on everything but her. And she was already remembering him driving, no hands, because he couldn’t get enough then, before his bad habits pulled him away and out of her life. No calls, no texts. He fell off the grid like she was supposed to when she’d gone to him that night out in the middle of those fire escapes. Did he remember that? Instead he talks about whips and chains, and she wasn’t surprised, because that was Ethan, looking for ways to worm out of what didn’t work for him. An awkward man at the end of the day, but it was what Toni had always found charming about him, those rare smiles, those rarer glimpses at the man beneath the designer suits. Her own arms wrapped around herself, as if it’d keep her innards in place, expression rolling through a million emotions in one. “Did you?” the doubt there, seeping into it all, like a bad habit, she could feel that ache and hurt pounding to be let in. Holding her position, because fuck, what else could she do? “You could always show me that, yanno?”
❛ there’s a few ways i can do that seeing how i may or may not be walking on eggshells here, i’ll just.. ❜ this time, there’s no distractions or smoke to decide whichever controlled word poisons her ears. just ethan and his stature stopping to close in on what could be considered prey if he had no respect for toni. even though his actions are debatable, when it comes to her, he’s downright serious. arms wrap around the newly crowned vixen, which sparks a subtle laughter. the thought of miss grunge tossing pom poms of bright colors, sporting those smelly jackets. ethan remembers his short lived transfer to riverdale high and by the looks of it, he lucked out with the eight to five horrors versus petty drama. there’s murderers running around like the purge became nonfiction. not that he’s complaining, it keeps the spotlight off of his own sins which he hopefully kicked to the curb.
so he looked healthier, hair cut even though his semi shaggy cut was an aesthetic of southside. he looks okay, and in this town, okay is a blessing. breathing slows, the mind turns at a million apologies he should spill. a hug from behind. the big spoon embracing the little spoon on a surprisingly nice day. it’s almost like seeing dracula out in broad daylight, only somewhat mesmerizing. because he hardly shows this side; embracing all this amity. ❛ rain clouds aren’t all that bad. they’re powerful. the thunder lightning. ❜ each word becomes more mute than the last, transitioning into a deep whisper. poor ethan was a sucker for poetics. both dark and romantic. rather seeing the bad in the morose, he sees beauty. empowerment.
❛ rumor has it, this place is just as haunted as the last i expected more red. ❜ ethan’s here to assess a game move by a returned anonymous killer that goes by the angel of death. something that he vaguly remembers his mother talking about in greendale, continually strikes down the sinners. amazed that he didn’t get a ransom note yet, he stops by the thistlehouse after a few wild days with this black hood. midge is gone, and of course, riverdale is pointing their fingers at the wrong target. the webs spun from a triangle affair, leaves fangs just as empty handed as the relentless teenage mobs.
everyone is angry, whereas he along with his own gang, sat on the sidelines to watch it all burn. but these letters, someone like gray can’t ignore. several warned cheryl to back out of the play, and with this murder, he wishes to stay extra close after all that has happened. ❛ i see the wicked witch is gone. i always knew some holy water would of done the trick. ❜
@chaosblossomed 2x20 starter.
The place I’m from [ made me who I am ]
gonna wanna tape my mouth shut
look out, lovers
hard feelings/loveless - lorde
catching up on riverdale tonight. i only have like.. idk 6 or 7 hours worth HAHA
“ the heart-breaker taught me how to become one ”
❛ did you at least get a free dinner out of it? ❜ this was his form of jealousy, which wasn’t much at all. the heart-breaker in him wasn’t in it for anything free. he craved the emotional s a b o t a g e. any normal person with attachment would of addressed the problem with questions of concern, but not ethan. there was never a heart to heart moment in a body that barely had one at all. but he fails to hide the fact that he needed nearly half his beer to cope with it. were they official? not at all. and to be honest, he never put much thought into it until now.
normally drinking quiets the many noises that cloud up his mind, but not tonight. feeling nothing but self doubt in this equilibrium, he sighs after hastily downing the booze. ❛ it’d be a damn shame to leave empty handed. heart-breaker code, you know. ❜
It’s been since February (Valentine’s Day, to be exact) since she’d seen him last; and at first she hadn’t known what to think, as he’d been a ghost, ever since she’d known him first as kids. The both of them playing their own staged runaways that they’d only made real over the summer, the relationship that tore out of it a blessing, and apparently, a curse in its own way. Perhaps it’d been foolish to think he’d stay just because of her, having been the one to observe from a coolly-minted distance before whenever girls he got involved with cried over his unexplained absences, feeling the hit and knowing that it was hers to bare, because who fell in love with a man who claimed intimacy with the devil? All she could do was wait, because like any stray, he always found a way back to those who fed him - her included. And so when his number lit up her phone, her voice didn’t even waver when answering, no questions as to where he’d been… maybe he wouldn’t even tell her. It was always drugs, or women, or other black holes. Things that she could have laughed off with ease before, because, that was Ethan, and this time, she was left holding the bag and feeling a fool and understanding, then, why, there were so many tears and frustrated emotions involved here. Even now, he looked like a Reaper, all in black and better looking than ever, and Toni just wanted to say that she hated him because at least it would have maybe made her feel better for a moment. Instead of embarrassed to have believed that she’d be held to a better standard than others, but that was her problem, not his, to manage. And that too was a way that she managed herself, her emotions, the ups and the downs. Claiming control over all that she could, to keep herself from falling on broken knees. Instead, her knife digs into the bark beneath their names, her own careful distraction, holding in every reaction that threatened to break loose. “I missed you,” she said, instead, loathing her tongue for its betrayal.
their relationship was chemical. it worked. even with his toxicity and illimitable hatred, toni always made up for his flaws. she may of not made his face a target, but he still felt the pain without a single word. even deep down the bastard knew he wasn’t worthy of being missed, less a topic of stress from someone so beyond p e r f e c t i o n. which is strange for someone like ethan gray to admit, even if his standards of purity are twisted. his number changed to get away from the noise of riverdale, the people making his career ever so obvious there might as well of been a spotlight on him. kids were getting too careless, some a bit too brave for what they lead on. no one likes to be caught red handed, even if the ego enjoys the rebellious fame but not him.
ethan had to be the center of attention albeit the preference of being a nobody. thankfully, he was out of sight of the barbie dolls and close with the retrograde. people to rely on, no matter what. as for toni, he expected none other than utmost support even if he deserves a bloodied nose. ❛ shit. after all these years in my presence, you’re still a ball of sunshine. i’m impressed. ❜ eye contact takes a few minutes before his own nervousness cracks, revealing the same old grey and steely blues. posture pushes the spine away from the tree, swinging his tall stature swiftly; always moving so perfectly rehearsed but comes so natural. ❛ i think . . an author wrote a book about me but i don’t think they got my image right. ❜ he references some shitty teenage literature, that’s most certainly not about him at all. only, making room for random chatter versus the real talk of where he’s been.
the same old dark boots kick at the dirt, all the while encircling miss topaz for his queue to swoop on in. ethan plays it safe, clearing his throat in between this bullshit story. ❛ i missed you- way more than you’d probably believe. ❜
“ i need my old friend patience to stop by ”
❛ well stop looking they’re dead. i brought tacos. ❜
“ i dream of you in my sleep ”
❛ now you’re dreaming of me? well .. spit it out. don’t make me sit here and think of every possibility better yet, try some coffee. ❜ how ironic it was that they were meeting for coffee. & here his is cornered into some pretentious emo bullshit. ethan never talked about what goes on his mind; always had this lifestyle of taking anything personal to the tomb. it’s confusing actually. going back and forth in being an asshole and giving a damn. whether it be more curiosity than anything, gray wants to know how he haunts her slumber.
❛ so is it good or bad? ❜ at least he offers his hand.
Lorde - Liability
❛ —– NO, i can’t say we can. ❜ but many try .. oh do so many try. her gaze follows him, the moment he slides off of the seat, elektra can feel the black pit in her chest waver ever so slightly, a telltale warning sign that something was going to happen. and it did. perhaps it was the black sky, she who emerged from death itself, or perhaps it was something else but the drink that sat in elektra’s nimble fingers was placed down in curiosity, suddenly FAR more intrigued by the incident going on at the table. it’d felt like years since she’d witnessed the sight of life slipping from the body ( in reality, it had only been weeks, maybe even days ) but this??? this is new, they’d told her when she’d awoken that the black sky carried death’s touch at the tip of her fingers, but nothing like what just happened before her eyes. she’s still stoic when he returns, a limp body left in the stranger’s wake and her head cocks to the side while a glimpse of a smile rests perfectly on her lips. bored, was she?? she hadn’t been previously, but now after what she’d witnessed? perhaps she had been bored all along. ❛ and stick around for all the fun?? i think you’re perfect company. ❜ so she slips off from her barstool, focus honing in on his hands before back to him, ❛ —- after you, by all means. ❜ she doesn’t bother to close out her tab.
❛ do i sense sarcastic flattery? my favorite kind of insult. ❜ & the employee doesn’t bother to run after the two, especially after a stack of cash is placed next to their empty glasses. it wasn’t a fond gesture, paying for what she knew to be free drinks, ethan simply liked showing off his lifestyle. what a sight it was to see gray’s genuine smile crawl from behind these metaphorical walls. static noise pops within his ears shortly after the last spoken words to miss danger. over six feet tall, heavy boots and dressed in black head to toe, takes this smile turned h o r r i f y i n g grin to these victims. at first it looks like ethan’s being friendly, offering drinks or even some push of his addiction but it’s not.
this person once mumbling offensive slurs towards elektra, ends up slumping against ethan; their friends laughing at something they are abhorrently wrong about. like a moth to flame, this person is limp against this death triggered inhuman and out of the pub for a mix of fun. there’s a mark on this guys hand, where ethans was. black, like necrosis spreading against pale flesh from an ‘innocent’ hand shake. ❛ they make it too easy for me sometimes. ❜ no one is safe, on earth nor amongst the stars.
“ Better late than never, ” she’d snapped. The air itself felt too heavy, like there wasn’t enough in circulation. Like the little of it that ebbed under locked doors would be ice cold, like death carried on a frigid chill. Enough to make Cheryl shiver through her Maje sweater, fingertips curling into her palms. It wasn’t a stretch to assume Penelope Blossom might reach for such a low blow, might pay the Sisters generously for their time and use her own ill gotten wealth ( the little of it that was left from her whorish lifestyle and boorish ways ) to speed things along. Nana Rose be damned, and Cheryl too.
And there had to be more to it than millions —- more than the hushed conversations by radio static, plotting the slow demise of two unwilling partakers . There’d been something irrefutably sinister about the way old Uncle Claudius had fit himself in, a puzzle piece NONE of them had been missing, like a ghost of a man Cheryl had seen in her nightmares, wielding guns, blowing out her brother’s skull on white tile. She swallowed, hard, that first thread of real fear finally presenting itself in a rogue tear, hastily swiped away. “ But I WANT to know what you’re plotting… ideally before my psychopathic mother worms her greasy palms around some orderly’s neck and throws away the key. ”
sunlight offers little resolution past windows unkempt, dusty and splattered with god knows what yet he still looks out for answers. ❛ that all depends on you, my game plan. are you feeling something quick and painless, or do we wanna drag this out for your mother dearest? ❜ theres some resemblance between familial issues, except his father axel tried to kill him over simple human errors. only it was never so simple being tangled up in the blossom’s maple syrup scandal. he was in the center of it all, whereas the twins were oblivious until the end of it all. looking back at it, he would of done things differently to spare his sisters life and his own u n b e c o m i n g.
❛ i wouldn’t spill my ideas here. these walls listen. ❜ a few patients ethan made friends with, developed their own way of communicating without actually opening their mouths or using ink. something passed on from his voodoo of a little sister. instead, ethan’s hand continues to reassure cheryl that she really does have people looking out for her. ❛ walk with me HBIC let’s get the hell out of here. ❜
osorrow !!
most species bear their teeth as a threat, as a display of aggression of leadership. it is a reminder that these clenched jaws can and will open your yielding throat. i want you to think of this the next time i smile. / / ETHAN GRAY. RIVERDALE / HORROR OC. MULTIVERSE.
