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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

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"How It's Always Been." Ethan Landry History.

Ay, ayyyy! So uh. I am just so, so into Ethan Landry it is fucking stupid. So much that I am posting this thing, a history mock up for Ethan of what I think life is like, this is angsty, family drama heavy, character deep, dive-y and includes some murder too! Enjoy it! I am gonna do some smut of him soon but for now, remember this is just my thoughts and headcanons and opinions, so enjoy this!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. NOT READER INSERT. This is just about Ethan baby. Warnings: SCREAM 6 SPOILERS. Family Drama. Angst. Neglect. Abuse. Coercion. Complex Emotions. Mixed Morality. Murder. Blood. Gore. Ethan Is A Fucked Up Guy. And I Love Him For It.

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Life for Ethan has never, ever been easy, or if it ever was, it was before he was truly cognizant and able to remember properly. Something always felt off but it took him a long time to be able to pin it down, and when he did it was like a glass shattering moment. The pane fractures and splits, breaking apart with knowledge that once received cannot be unlearned. Unfixable, even if you were to shift through the broken shards and painstakingly glue it back together your hands would be left torn and bleeding and the cracks would still show clear as day through the smudges of crimson fingerprints.

The biggest injustice in Ethan’s life was the worst one a person can suffer, the cruelty of total indifference.

Have you ever experienced that? Being so totally and thoroughly ignored by everyone who is supposed to matter most? The people who share what is supposed to be a home with? Who birthed you into this world? Forced you the same way we all are into this shared experience we all call life, meant to play with the cards we are dealt. The middle of three and painfully ignored in all things in favour of his siblings. He can’t even be that mad at Quinn, to start anyway, it’s all about Richie, it’s always all about Richie.

He remembered the only good times and memories he had with his brother, when he wasn’t being a total fucking asshole, was when his needs and interests were being catered to and even then, not all the time. Filming his Stab tribute film was a complete mixed bag of some shockingly awesome moments mixed in with Richie having all the unwarranted, misplaced rage and self confidence found in a typical film bro who has watched one too many movies and swept one too many things Quinten Tarantino did under the rug. He was going on about how some aspects weren’t right, redoing takes over and over while waxing poetic about his fucking vision and berating his amateur friends and family who have never made a film or acted in any serious capacity before.

Ethan used to love his brother, used to fucking look up to the guy but as he aged, rose tinted glasses gave way to show the truth of the kind of person Richie really was as well as the realization that he was the reason that their parents didn’t give a fuck about him.

At first he tried not to blame him, Richie didn’t ask for all the attention but he sure as shit didn’t stop it either, and why would he when he is being so heavily catered to? His feelings about all of it were complex to say the least, going from real family caring about family, to disillusionment, to annoyance to anger, and eventually, outright hatred. He tried to get over it, tried to fix it and heal the hurt before it reached that level and the damage was permanent but Richie didn’t make it easy at all. From the lack of interest in Ethan’s life, hobbies, general well being, to the outright bullying he subjected him to at points. Richie is only a quarter of an inch taller than him but you’d think he was a full foot taller from how he acted so superior about the whole thing.

Ethan felt bad for a moment when he found out about Richie dying, because a small, sick part of him was fucking happy. Experiencing joy thinking that now with Richie gone he was the only son, that meant something, now his dad would pay attention, now he would care-

Except that isn’t the case at all. Even in death it’s still all about Richie.

At first it made sense, grief, mourning, sure, he was feeling it too to a degree, it was natural of course.

But then Gale Weathers fucking book came out.

Wayne is not the most reasonable man on the best of days, which a cop? Unstable? Unheard of. Then when the whole story came out and he read it, he was livid. Ethan swears some nights when he is lying awake he can still hear his father screaming, breaking things, tearing pages out of that damn book, yelling on and on about how it was- “Slander! That bitch can’t say these things about our boy! It isn’t true! He-he would never-”

Ethan isn’t exactly surprised. Richie was always really, really into not just the movies but the reality of it, the actual cases that book and film drew from. Wayne indulging in his habit by providing him with some ill gotten possessions of real life murder and crime scene evidence didn’t help either.

At one point, when he was still trying to fix this, trying to salvage what was left of their relationship as family, he used one of his few talents and escapes to entertain his brother. He has a love for art, drawing, and has filled sketchbooks over the years with his sketches and musings. Mostly on the nights he would be re-watching a movie he had already seen, picked apart and analysed for the fifth time at least, something to help divide his attention and occupy his hands the night gaming didn’t seem appealing.

He did a series of sketches in secret, he researched a lot to make them happen, and one night he showed Richie pencil outlines, red ink for blood, showing off various people from the cases, either dead or dying or whatever struck him as right. He thinks it might have been the time Richie was happiest with him,recalling the praise and excited ramblings, even if Richie didn’t know art, he gave it up for Ethan’s attention to detail and the visceral and violent nature he depicted in his work.

“The black and white with only the blood being coloured?! It’s so, what’s the right word-Striking! It’s so striking.”

Ethan tried to be happy too but it still felt hollow because it was all about what his brother wanted, when he tried to show him any non-Woodsboro or Stab related sketches he didn’t give them a second glance and certainly no compliment. Richie started making requests of even more intense extreme and grotesque nature, and then it became somewhat of an obligation as opposed to a project he was doing on his own time and for his own strange curiosity and enjoyment. Portraying these horrifying acts with starting realism was challenging and he had to admit that when he nailed the milky dead eyed look of a victim in a crime scene or the cross hatching was just perfect, he felt a sick and odd sense of…What was it? Pride? Amusement? Longing? It was a hard to define, outright miasma of emotions.

The drawings get less and less as time wears on and his brother stops asking as much.

His dad is fucking insane, so is his sister, they say grief makes people do crazy things, but plotting to frame someone for murder to clear your son’s name is up there as probably one of the most extreme reactions one can have. He didn’t even really want to be a part of it but his dad and sister just immediately started talking as if he would be down, not considering his feelings or that he might not want this but that was how it was in his family.

No one ever thought of what Ethan wanted, they just assumed he’d go with the flow, the conversation “convincing him” was short, like they expected him to give way with a stiff breeze. So he had no choice, he lied, he said, of course he wanted to help, that he felt everything that they did but he didn’t.

What he did feel was a misguided sense of hope, the idea that he might be able to have a real place in this family once everyone feels that they have avenged Richie. They can be a family again and now that he is the only son his dad will have to pay attention to him, and have to love him.

Everything they suggested he went along with, all the convoluted and complicated details he was here for it and ready to do whatever they asked.

Wrapping his head around the act of it took some doing. Some late nights sat up wondering if he could really do that, could take someone's life, and after much internal fighting he decided it was worth it. What else did he have outside of his family? He invested so much time, so much effort, he couldn’t give up now, if this works then they can be happy and he can have everything he ever wanted, have them care about and for him.

He wanted to show them as well as himself he could, if Richie could do it, so could he.

It was around this time he showed his dad the sketches he showed Richie before. It did what he hoped, showed him he was serious about this, it curried some favour, he felt good, a sense of pride as his dad complimented his work. When the sketches were framed and included in the collection he actually cried that night, when alone, that sense of hope grew.

The plan formed quickly, Wayne and Quinn were obsessed and entirely consumed with it. He learned fast that anything he had to contribute would be heavily scrutinised and most likely rejected, he was just expected to fill the role they wanted of him.

As the plan grew it became painfully apparent that there was a lot expected of him, not only did he have to fit into the plan, play his part in the killings, he had to insert himself into the friend group, be there to help lead them where they needed to be and throw off suspicion and more. Quinn slotted herself in as Sam and Terra’s roommate and all the while had been frothing up a subreddit and online community dedicated to proving Richie as innocent and Sam as the true villain. He watched a few times and was present when Quinn would be going on her posting sprees, VPNs, fake IP’s and dummy accounts where tons upon tons of things were posted to push the narrative in the direction she wanted. It was honestly kind of scary, the dedication, the meanness she displayed. Ethan was glad he wasn’t on Quinn’s shit list, having her being not just pissed but willing and ready to dedicate large swaths of her life and time to tearing your life apart is terrifying.

The lead up was a nerve wracking, what if he couldn’t worm his way in? What would he do then? It would cement him as a failure to his family. There was a lot of pressure to succeed but luckily, he and Chad got along really well.

Or at least that is what Chad and the group thought which is what was really important.

When it came down to it, after he was settled into the routine and knew the core group, it was time for the real plan to get going. The killings kicked off, he’d been amping himself up for it, trying to really get himself in the headspace to do it but something unexpected happened. Wearing the outfit and the mask, he chased down the victim that was supposed to be for practice, to make sure he could really do it when the time came, a totally nobody of a person, he managed to catch them with relative ease.

The knife slid into that first victim and when he stabbed them, he felt alive, more alive than he ever had and also he felt seen.

Even with the mask on, even though the person couldn’t see his face, their eyes were locked on him, centred in this moment, focused totally on him, the blade in his hand, driven into their stomach, it was shockingly intimate. A nervous lick of his lips behind the decaying mask, heavy breathing, his own chest heaving, an urge strikes, he follows the instinct he twists the knife. The body below him, because that is what it is, no longer a human, not a person with a life, thoughts, hopes or dreams, it is a body, one that is quickly dying, is going weak in the knees.

Shakey blood stained hands clutching weakly at him, trying to push him away but he had stolen all the breath from their lungs when he forced his way inside, had affected them. He had changed them, is in the process of destroying them, altering them irrevocably, for the worse. He feels powerful for the first time maybe ever. He pulls the knife out and the soon to be corpse gasps, mouth open, blood on their teeth they whimper pathetically, he drives the knife forward again and it becomes a blur after that. Stab, rip, tear, in and out, back and forth warm sprays of blood and sounds of pain and anguish, wetness soaks through his glove and the robe and nothing has felt better. Being inside someone, turns out, no matter the context of the penetration, is a sensation he had been craving down to the marrow in his bones and now he was woken up to it. Knew what he had been missing. He craves it again, he wants more.

The strength it takes to accomplish the goal, to leave the body on the wet pavement, totally slack, eyes dead, skin turning cold, leaves him panting, sweaty and satisfied, staring down at the mess of red and spilled intestines. It didn’t feel like enough. Thankfully this is only the first time, the first of many, there will be plenty more opportunities to play, to have fun, to practise and get better, to forge new memories.

Robe and mask in his bag, coat slipped on and zipped up to cover the blood that had soaked through the costume to his shirt, he leaves the body behind after dumping it into the dumpster. A trembling hand ran through heavy sweat soaked curls, he felt totally high on what he just did.

No one expects him, no one is aware of the brutality he is capable of because of all the sheer frustration he has bubbling underneath the surface. He is going to show everyone that he has worth, he can do this.

A chew of his bottom lip as he thinks and relives what he just experienced, vivid images and sound dancing through his mind as he is walking to the subway, thoughts of how this can give him everything he wanted.

It’s all so clear, no one can ignore him with a seven inch steel blade buried in their body. If this is all it took to get a little attention and recognition, then he would have started doing it sooner. Richie was a self centred idiot, but he was right about this at the very least, killing has undeniable appeal that he intended to fully lose himself in, and finally things will change for him.

#Ethan Landry #scream 6 x reader #BHF writing #WELP #HERE WE ARE #THE NEW BOY #I loveeee him #As you can see by the angst before we ever get any smut #I am very very into him and have so many feelings #ENJOY IT

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