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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

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ooh, please talk about how animorphs as a series exists in conversation with comic books!

Here it is, a whole bunch of questionably-organized thoughts off the top of my head (because if I wrote it out properly it’d be an entire dissertation):

Animorphs as Graphic Novels

Superhero team-up plot

Need for secrecy and “dual identities”, including through hiding abilities from loved ones and civilians

Kids’ powers given by science which no other human possesses — they are extraordinary, “unique to the universe” (MM3)

Small team of fighters with variations on similar powers (strength, speed, stealth, etc. divided among morphs)

Inability to trust authority, forcing them to take fight into own (amateur) hands

Secret Invasion: the aliens are in disguise, characters take on others’ appearances and identities

Use of exposition conceits and contrivances

Notably eschews Magic Tree House convention of putting all exposition into prologue

Also does not follow Babysitters’ Club convention of info-dump (thank Jeebus)

Follows in convention of using various devices (memory recordings, personal introductions, dialogue) to introduce the reader to the plot

When these occur, deliberately written w/ character voices

Stylistic descriptions

Heavy use of onomatopoeia

Short sentences, short paragraphs, short words

Thought-speak

Written with hypertext symbols/pointed brackets

In comics, used to denote a translation from a foreign language (possibly b/c guillemets popular in French and Italian texts?)

In Animorphs, used to denote not-quite-real and non-audible nature of this type of speech

Simultaneous condemnation and celebration of need for lawbreaking and violence

Explorations of impermanent death

Rachel and Tobias in MM2; Jake in MM3 and #11; all of them in MM4; David (maybe) in #48, David definitely in #22; Cassie, Tobias, Rachel, maybe Ax in #41

Impact of death is NOT on dead character, but on surviving teammates left behind (Alaniz)

Explorations of impermanent disability

Loren in #49; James, Erica, etc. in #50; Tobias in #13 and MM2

THIS IS PROBLEMATIC AS FUCK and doesn’t age well, but it is still a convention of the genre

Vivid, lurid, unreal cover scenes, including stylized depictions of battles

Discomfort with public personas, including identity fragmentation

Jake being disturbed/horrified by own postwar lionizing (military awards, Mount Rushmore, etc.)

Cassie noting how much Rachel’s funeral would have discomfited Rachel herself, and the lack of accuracy in statements made about her postmortem

All Animorphs, especially Jake and Tobias, responding to praise with shame

Writing structure

Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters, short books

Heavy use of imagery, with emphasis on worldbuilding through unreal imagery

Dialogue does not let up throughout story — not during dreams, not during battles, not during self-reflection

During rare moments when no one is talking, everyone is doing something, w/ very little room for long reflection

Emphasis on concrete, physical sensations and images over wishy-washy abstraction

Catchphrases!!!!

“Let’s do it”

“This is insane”

Arguably: “Good grief”; “Don’t call me prince”/”Yes, Prince Jake”

Superman as someone with “a body that retains no marks, on which history cannot be inscribed” (Bukatman)

Heroes getting “spear deaths” while villains and the pathetic get “straw deaths” (X)

Rachel’s death as heroic sacrifice

Jara Hamee, James et al, Rachel, Ax (?), Elfangor, Jake et al (?): dying in battle while bravely facing down hopeless odds

Visser One: stepped on almost accidentally after being stripped down to nothing by execution process

Visser Three: denied death in battle; must die after lifetime spent in prison

David: made helpless and pitiful before begging for death rather than continuing to exist in this state

Tom: “‘This pitiful, broken thing?’ He [the yeerk] gestured to his own body.” just before death (#53, emphasis mine)

Saddler: vilified and (guiltily) victim-blamed before dying in bed

Even “mock deaths” in Megamorphs books follow this pattern

Animorphs as SUBVERSIVE Graphic Novels

Ultrarealistic (humorous) embodiment of experience of fighting battles in multicolored spandex

Condemnation of violence

Emphasis on consequences beyond the physical

Physical violence is gross, disturbing, horrifyingly realistic (contrast: comics are often bloodless, or have unrealistically pretty violence) (Pizarro & Baumeister)

Unhappy endings

Superhero stories: “happy ending” = wife, kids, picket fence, heteronormativity

Animorphs: happy ending would be the chance to rest/recover and stop having to make moral decisions (#31); happy ending moves out of reach over course of story

Almost outsized emphasis on impact of secrecy, lies, violence, and injury on protagonists

Superhero comics (and later superhero movies): strangely bloodless stabbings, often played for humor or pathos but no gore

Animorphs: Marco’s entire jaw being ripped off as his tongue lolls loose from the hole in his face (#49), Jake tripping over his own entrails where they trail on the floor following disembowelment (MM4), Rachel being blinded by amount of blood gushing from a head wound (#41), etc.

Tobias

Descended from an ancient line of alien warriors, abandoned unwillingly by his parents at birth with unworthy guardians, grows up with no advantages, goes on to become a messiah-figure to the hork-bajir… and after all that, he’s just some guy on the team

It's not the story of Tobias and the Superfriends (or of Jake and the Superfriends) b/c he’s a part of the team

Characters like Cassie, who has ordinary (and therefore unconventional for superhero) backstory, actually get just as much development and even more narrative time than Tobias does

Showing impact: he has chronically, almost pathologically low self-esteem as a result of how he was raised, he experiences a lot of anger with both his parents for abandoning him, he gets continuously bullied in school for markers of poverty (wrong clothes, overweight, need to change school districts)

Jake

Another common superhero narrative: ordinary kid with group of friends accidentally stumbles into alien secret, ends up in charge of a group of superbeings almost overnight, all the while maintaining a secret identity as an ordinary (mediocre) boy non-hero to his normative suburban parents, aware all the while of villainous figure lurking in their midst…

But he remains, at the end of the day, not that special: the only “secret ability” he has to conceal is the ability to morph, not super-smarts or super-strength or any quality that makes him a brilliant rather than a merely decent leader

Again, impact: his family gets torn apart by weight of his and Tom’s yeerk’s secrets, something Aunt May (for instance) is much less likely to have to contend with

Rachel’s death as planned sacrifice play: Jake makes no attempt to die in her place

Contrast graphic novel trope (Superman and Jason Todd, Captain America and Bucky, Black Widow and Hawkeye, Hulk and Iron Man) of superheroes going to almost-ridiculous lengths to die in each other’s place, and superheroes almost never dying outside of concerted effort to prevent/undo friends’ deaths

Animorphs goes for military realism over classic self-sacrifice presentation

#animorphs #animorphs meta #animorphs spoilers #gore #body horror #graphic novels #superheroes #avengers endgame spoilers #comic books #superhero comics #k.a. applegate #tropes #long post #writing #superhero meta #avengers spoilers #loriache #asks

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featherquillpen · 8 years ago

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I’ve received a bunch of Dæmorphing-related messages / asks about things like, “What if the Animorphs had X ability? Wouldn’t that be cool?” I haven’t answered them, partly for spoiler reasons, but partly because I have a longer and more complex answer to all of them than I could say in brief.

The Animorphs’ powers – namely, turning into animals and the healing factor – are not interesting to me (or to most readers) because they’re cool and help them kick Yeerk butt. Or at least, that’s not the only reason. They’re interesting because of how they change the Animorphs’ lives and make them face hard questions.

I don’t think I have to belabor the point of how turning into animals changes the Animorphs’ perspective on, well, everything. They view nature differently. They view themselves differently. And the healing factor – look at how horrified the Animorphs are by dismemberment at the beginning of the series, and how they nearly shrug it off by the end. So if we ask the question of say, why the Animorphs don’t retain their dinosaur morphs after MM2, it’s because that ability greatly enhances their cool factor and their butt-kicking but if anything it flattens everything else, makes it too easy, less interesting.

If we look at abilities I’ve added in Dæmorphing, four-eye for humans and Dust vision for Hork-Bajir, they’re actually fairly low on cool factor and butt-kicking but very high on challenging the characters and asking questions. Four-eye explores matters of disability in Dæmorphing. Everyone has different senses in four-eye depending on their dæmon; if that’s so, then what does that say about Loren’s blindness? If everyone varies in ability depending on their dæmon, then who exactly do we define as disabled? Dust vision in Hork-Bajir is cool, and gives the experienced Hork-Bajir the ability to detect sentients in morph, but it also forces them (and anyone in Hork-Bajir morph) to confront the fundamental equality and dignity of all sentient beings, because they all produce Dust.

In summary, I don’t intend to give any characters in Dæmorphing new abilities because they’re cool and will help them beat the Yeerks. If I give any characters new abilities, it will only make their lives more complicated and scary. I think that’s what Applegrant intended with all the special abilities in canon, as well.

#animorphs #daemorphing meta is go

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imagine-reblog · 2 years ago

Text

—AGNOSTHESIA | FIVE

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: After the talk, things were going well, or so Wednesday assumed. You've been distancing yourself and Wednesday is forced to sift through her past behaviors to see why and comes to a realization that makes her violently ill.

Warnings: Angst. Jealous!Wednesday. Enid, has to spell it out. Thing, wants more dew drops. Xavier, rip.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: we're making waveEees (slow burn mode) 🥺💘

Part Four

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Agnosthesia: Noun. The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Not quite, Henry. Try crushing the seed instead of chopping it; you'll get more juice out of it that way."

You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Yes, use the flat side of your knife, just like that—careful."

You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Well done, Henry!"

Wednesday slams her textbook down on the desk.

"Ow!" Xavier yelps, the tips of his fingers caught under the textbook. He yanks them out. "Jesus fucking Christ, Wednesday, my fingers!"

"Quit blubbering," Wednesday unapologetically tells him. "They are still attached to your body, are they not?"

"For now," Xavier grumbles, rubbing his bruised fingers. "What the hell is your problem, anyway?"

"I don't have a problem," Wednesday's eyes briefly look at him before looking back at her own flask. "Why would you think that?"

This was her third time re-making the elixir.

The textbook had said to cut the seed to extract the juice inside, but after Xavier nearly lopped off his finger the first time, Wednesday took over the second time. The only issue was that despite her flawless knife work, they could hardly squeeze any of the juice out from the seed's hard shell.

Xavier was plucking at her last nerves with his suggestion to try again—as if the seed would suddenly get softer.

Wednesday clenches her jaw. She should've declined to be Xavier's partner. Even Bianca would suffice better because at least she would feel no inclination about holding back on murdering Bianca when they finally got fed up with each other.

But this was only an issue because—

"Because tooth fairy has refused to be your lab partner, like, what, 3 times now?" Xavier whispers.

Wednesday doesn't say anything, but her expression gets more contemptuous, her mouth pinched, and Xavier doesn't say anything more. She doesn't even comment on Xavier's horrible epithet that he's been sticking to despite your immediate veto. His only reasoning was that you had a nice smile, which Wednesday was inclined to agree with reluctantly.

But it was true. It was a rather new development when you began growing closer to Wednesday, especially after they resolved the tension regarding Wednesday not asking questions. It was going well, or so Wednesday had thought.

Now, you jumped at making sure someone else was your partner before the teacher would even finish telling everyone to partner up.

Looking up, Wednesday stares at the back of your head, willing to burn a hole through it so you'd look at her.

You don't.

"That guy has been hanging around her often," Xavier comments, his eyes narrowing a little. "Pretty sure he's a legacy. His dad went here—Henry Morrison? Can’t believe he named his son the same name."

"Why are you telling me this irrelevant information?" Wednesday cuts in before he can say anything else.

"Is it irrelevant?" Xavier smiles, though the corners of his mouth don't make it too far up. "Thought you, of all people, should know this: know any potential rival—lest you want someone else to swoop in."

'Rival?' Wednesday thought with confusion. She looks at the boy next to you.

There was no way this lanky, pitiful, stuttering boy could be her rival. If she were to look at anyone as a rival, it'd be Bianca.

The siren looked way too smug and haughty every time you spent time with her. Every time Wednesday caught a glimpse of you two, Bianca would have this aggravating smirk that would send Wednesday into a burst of rage that Thing would have to suffer through while she ranted.

"How's psychitect going? Getting better?" You ask.

Henry nods eagerly. "I-I can almost make a fully functional mindscape. You should come to see it," Henry says with a shy smile. "Y-You have a free period during that time, right?"

You nod with an easy-going smile. "Sure, I don't have much else to do, and it sounds pretty cool."

Wednesday purses her lips unhappily, stabbing the seed with the tip of her knife precisely, and Xavier moves his hands away just in case.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Wednesday—"

"No."

"You haven't even heard what I'm about to ask—"

"No."

Enid exaggeratedly pouts, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Wednesday..." she pitifully drags.

"Enid," Wednesday grits her teeth, holding firm. "No."

"C'mon!" Enid continues to plead. "One of the girls broke her arm! We're short a girl again this year."

"How tragic," Wednesday says without care. "But that, unfortunately, wasn't my fault. I applaud your efforts to torture me but I have no inclination to join the boat race this year."

"But don't you remember that satisfying feeling of beating Bianca?" Enid tries to entice Wednesday instead. "What was it that you said last year? A dark, vengeful spirit."

Wednesday raises her brow. "I have no additional quarrels with Bianca this year. I get my satisfaction from beating her in fencing."

Enid lets out a groan. She knows she's running out of options, and she's about to give up when something pops into her mind, and a mischievous smile that Wednesday doesn't like appears.

"Oh, well," Enid says with a dramatic sigh. "I guess we'll just have to ask someone else and risk losing to Bianca."

Wednesday narrows her eyes. "It appears so."

"And with Fae watching in the crowd, I bet she'll be so impressed with Bianca taking that trophy," Enid continues, astutely turning away as she says it, a smirk on her face. "Man, how embarrassing. I can't believe I'll have to explain to Fae that we lost because my roomie didn't want to get into the whole school spirit thing."

Enid sighs one last time as she sits on her bed, looking at Thing, who sits beside her. "Oh, well. I'm sure Fae will be thrilled to celebrate Bianca's victory."

Wednesday clenches her fist. She's not unaware of Enid's horrible attempt at manipulating her. It was tragically embarrassing on Enid's end but what was more embarrassing was that it was working.

The idea of you celebrating Bianca's victory was making Wednesday more sullen than she already was.

So, for the second time this year, despite Wednesday's reluctance to win the Poe Cup again as it made her more similar to her mother, she was going to make Bianca burn with the taste of utter defeat.

"Enid," Wednesday scowls. "It would be wise to sleep with both eyes open after the competition is over."

"I love you, too, Wednesday."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday is at a loss.

Despite her attempts to ask more questions and discover what could possibly be the reason why you've been distant, you've stonewalled her.

It is a very sickening feeling.

"How could she do this to me, Thing?" Wednesday seethed at the disembodied hand as it was just the two in her room. "This is the second week she's cut our time short. That's 14 days, Thing. Our usual 38 hours a week have been cut down to a mere 15 hours."

Thing taps and signs.

"Why are you asking if I did something?" Wednesday glares.

Some more tapping.

"It's a fair assumption," Wednesday concedes. "But I haven't done anything out of the ordinary as of late. You must know how painful it is for me right now to admit I am at a loss."

Thing taps.

"And she has said nothing to you?" Wednesday glares suspiciously.

Thing taps more firmly, and Wednesday lets out a sigh through her nose and lets it go. Checking the time, she finds you'll be here any minute now.

As of late, you've been insisting on meeting Wednesday in her room at night instead of your fae studio realm. Enid seemed to catch on and was happy to hang out with Ajax or Yoko for an hour or two until you left.

It only served to remind Wednesday that it used to be four hours at your studio. Wednesday bitterly thinks you've done it on purpose because it was easier for you to leave her space than to make her leave your space.

There's a knock on her door.

Right on time.

Wednesday looks at Thing before glaring at the door.

"I will not accept defeat tonight," she ominously declares as she walks towards the door.

When she opens it, Wednesday finds you smiling at her but there’s something about it that makes her feel disgruntled.

“Hi, Wednesday,” you say in the exact same way you’ve said hundreds before. “Enid out again?”

“Of course,” Wednesday deadpans since not even Enid knows about your wings.

“Cool,” you reply before looking out the window. “Can we open the window? It feels a little stuffy in here.”

Wednesday looks at Thing, who scuddles to the window and cracks it open. There’s a slight breeze that makes you sigh with ease as you take off your sweater and sit down on the floor at Wednesday’s bed.

There’s a momentary pause as Wednesday stares at the familiar sight of your back before your opulent obsidian wings slowly grow out, stretching as much as they could with a ruffle.

They were healing quite well, Wednesday notes. Soon, you won’t need to meet with her every night for treatment.

You still need to meet her now but you’re already distancing yourself.

Wednesday feels self-pity, rage, and dour. She won’t admit it, though, as she pulls out the tub of salve and sits behind you.

The way you won’t even tell her it tickles anymore.

Your wings trill as Wednesday moves her fingers through the feathers.

“Did you enjoy your day today?” You ask conversationally and Wednesday clenches her jaw.

“No,” she grits out.

“Oh,” you seem surprised at the admittance. There’s a delay and Wednesday knows you’re debating on inquiring further, but you make up your mind. “Why?”

“Why do you think so?” Wednesday asks instead, her voice flat and unimpressed that you’d sink to playing stupid. It was beneath you.

You remain silent.

“I don’t know,” you eventually say, your tone even and unassuming. “Has Xavier finally tried to hug you?”

You’re lightly jesting to avoid the confrontation but Wednesday won’t have it. She applies the salve slowly, knowing full well it was making you antsy. Wednesday was going to drag out tonight so painfully slow, you were going to regret having ever been the reason for Wednesday’s dreadful days.

“No,” Wednesday answers, “And I doubt he ever will if he wants to live.”

You laugh but it’s not very sincere. “I guess he could always ask Enid to pass along a hug for him.” You’re jesting again but there’s something in your tone that sounds bitter.

Wednesday doesn’t know what to make of the comment, so she ignores it since it’s not like you can see her glare right now.

“You’ve been partnering up with the lanky boy lately,” Wednesday shifts the subject, sounding flat as if it were just a mere observation.

“Henry?” You say confusedly but Wednesday doesn’t confirm or deny. “I mean, I guess,” you shrug.

“Why?” Wednesday demands, asking what she really wants to know.

“I mean,” you say slowly. “Why not? You and I are some of the people with the top grades. It’s obvious we’re adept and Henry needs help.”

“So, why must you be the one to help him?” Wednesday clenches her jaw.

It’s a miracle how gentle she’s still applying the salve despite how uncomfortably irritated she feels.

“Why? Are you offering to help him instead?” You ask wryly.

“I think if he’s destined to fail, then we should not interfere,” Wednesday bluntly and callously reasons. “Is he not the same boy who first saw you and could barely get a word out, leaving you with such a dull sobriquet?”

“It’s just a class, Wednesday,” you dryly say, awkwardly shifting.

Wednesday’s jaw is set tightly in place, and she feels utterly humiliated right now.

“I heard you’re joining The Poe Cup race again this year?” You say, changing the subject as the atmosphere was tense.

Wednesday feels her body relax ever so slightly at the new subject.

“Yes, at Enid’s relentless and piteous begging.”

“Oh,” you say softly.

Wednesday feels uncomfortable and she’s unsure why.

“Have you considered joining the race?” Wednesday spits out to keep the conversation moving.

“No,” you answer softly again. “Even though there are no rules preventing sabotage against other teams, Principal Weems and I agreed that my powers would be a very unfair advantage to fight against.”

Wednesday’s curiosity rules over all other emotions. She wants to ask exactly what powers you’re talking about when you suddenly stand up and Wednesday realizes that you could feel when she’s finished applying the salve to the end of your scars.

“Thanks again for helping me,” you tell her softly as you turn around, making your wings disappear with an uncomfortable grimace. You put your sweater back on and zipped it up. “I have some assignments with my other project partners I have to meet up with. Catch you later?”

Wednesday is left sitting on the floor, seething with rage and defeat as you walk out the room, shutting the door with a resounding, sickening click.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Enid returns home from her date with Ajax, feeling joyous and charmed. She immediately spots Wednesday at her desk on her typewriter.

“Hey, Wednesday,” Enid sing-songs. “Did you have a good night?”

“It was fine,” Wednesday says sharply, which has Enid looking over to Thing, who signs to not ask.

“O-kay,” Enid replies, taking off her jacket before sitting on her bed.

Wednesday is typing aggressively on her typewriter, each push so hard it sounds punishing.

“So—”

“Not now, Enid,” Wednesday icily cuts in, continuing to type as if she wanted to break her typewriter. “I need silence.”

Enid doesn’t reply, only letting out a soft sigh as she puts her headphones on and rests in her bed. She opens a magazine and Thing shuffles over to her to look along with her. The sad thing is that Enid can still hear Wednesday aggressively typing, but she ignores it knowing her best friend and roommate needs the time to cool down before attempting to talk.

The only problem is an hour and half passes and Wednesday is still typing as if the typewriter has personally wronged her.

Enid yanks off her headphones, closing her magazine before she slams both down on her bed. She frostily looks at Wednesday.

"Wednesday, this was cute and funny to watch the first two weeks, but now it's getting sad," Enid purses her lips at her roommate. "Stop moping and go fix it. And don’t play stupid, I know you know what I mean."

"Enid," Wednesday says with thinly veiled anger, her typing coming to a stop. "Whatever it was between us has clearly taken a nose-dive and hit solid concrete and died. It was nothing and I'm not affected by—"

"Wednesday!" Enid snaps, and it makes Wednesday close her mouth. Her bright roommate rarely snapped. "Stop dismissing your own feelings."

"I'm not sure what you're—"

"Oh, yes you do," Enid cuts in, and Wednesday wants to remind her that it is a rude habit. "Maybe your big brain hasn't caught on yet, but if you spent time looking at your behaviors and actions of late, you'd be able to get on the same page as the rest of us."

Wednesday frowns, glaring at her roommate, who glares back.

"I implore detective Wednesday to make an appearance and annoyingly obsess over the clues she's given to herself," Enid scrunches her nose. "I'll be at Yoko's and when I'm back, I expect you'll have come to the correct conclusion. I'm taking Thing as well."

Enid doesn't wait for Wednesday's reply as she turns and leaves the room with a resounding click of the door shutting. With her alone in her room, Wednesday initially ignores Enid's words, going back to sit at her desk and placing her fingers on her typewriter, but nothing comes to mind.

After sitting in frustration for 10 minutes, Wednesday curses her blonde roommate as she contemptuously gets up and goes to lie down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

It's almost embarrassingly easy to think back to the beginning. Wednesday remembers seeing you for the first time and thinking nothing of it. It was only two weeks of your friendly smile and greetings, despite having yet to be formally introduced, that she noticed you more. And then she couldn't stop noticing you because you never endeavored to say anything more to her than hello, even though you were diligent in getting to know everyone else.

Then, it was the slow desire to know every single thing there was about you. Wednesday was still mostly ambivalent about her phone, but she had wanted your number. It was the gruesome butterflies, the discovery of your secret place, and your wings that began to make this year thrilling.

Wednesday had never suffered through so many hypothetical conversations in her head—she had considered admitting herself as a patient to a mental ward rather than being the usual enthused visitor.

It was easy to admit that, on some level, she thought of you as hers to protect and would carry out any revenge needed.

But this was normal, wasn't it? Wednesday bargains. This could all be construed as friendship, the same as whatever she had with Enid—just with more curiosity.

The foundation of that reasoning was pathetically shaky, she knew.

It was the smaller things that Wednesday analyzed.

Wednesday thought back and reluctantly admitted there were too many times she's felt jealous and sullen because of you. She thinks about how she would take the long way to her class just to bump into you down the halls.

The way she would ensure her nightly plans were left completely free to spend with you. Quite frankly, Wednesday planned her days around you, and if there was something she could not put off, then she was sure to include you.

It was coming horrifyingly clear. Wednesday has always told herself she wasn't sure how she felt about you to give herself plausible deniability. But her own actions and behaviors have ratted her out.

And it was such an outrageous revelation.

Damn it all. Wednesday Addams was romantically interested in someone.

How unfortunate.

The door jiggles before opening, revealing her blonde roommate returning with Thing on her shoulders. Wednesday looks at the time and finds she's been lying in bed for an hour.

"So?" Enid drawls. "Did you figure it out yet?"

"Yes," Wednesday tightly replies, looking at Enid briefly before glaring back at the ceiling.

"And how do you feel?"

"Enraged."

"Enraged?!" Enid's in disbelief but then sighs. "But of course you'd be."

Wednesday suddenly sits up. It's well past midnight, but she doesn't care.

"Thing," Wednesday writes a quick note, folding it before giving it to Thing. "Go deliver this."

Thing grabs it and scuddles off while Enid stares at her roommate with curiosity. "Are you going to go meet up with her?" Then, excitedly. "Are you going to confess?"

"The only thing I will ever confess to is a murder," Wednesday flatly says. "But yes, I will be meeting up with her and I will make her suffer as I have."

Enid winces, looking doubtful. "Really?"

Wednesday is silent for a moment before she says, "No. But I will be getting to the bottom of this, and I will come out victorious."

Wednesday puts on her boots and sweater.

"Are you sure she'll even meet up with you? What did you say in your note?"

Wednesday grinned wickedly. "I told her to meet me, or I would set fire to her forest until it was nothing but ash."

Enid sighs, turning to get ready for bed. "Good luck."

Wednesday doesn't reply, walking to the door. It is pathetic she's romantically engrossed in someone, but as it happened, she couldn't undo it.

Therefore, as the object of her affections, she could not allow you to distance yourself without a sound, robust reason.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday makes it to your studio before you do, but she can hear your footsteps heavy with annoyance.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Wednesday?" She hears you huff. "Why the hell would you send me a note that you're going to burn down—"

"You've been avoiding me," Wednesday turns around and hisses, anger written all over her face. "Why?"

You’re stunned silent, shocked at the sudden confrontation and venomous tone from Wednesday. For a second, Wednesday thinks you won’t answer and turn around to leave, risking your little haven burnt to a crisp.

"I have not," you say slowly, rising to the challenge as you raise your brow at her. "We still see each other every night, don't we?"

"But we don't..." Wednesday pauses. "You don't..."

"What?" You tilt your head. "Spend all my time with you?"

Wednesday remains silent, her blood silently burning inside her. She's so filled with disgruntlement. It's always better to suffer the truth than to be blissfully unaware, but Wednesday wishes this entire realization wasn't her truth.

"Should I start prioritizing you?" You say with no inflection, but it feels almost malicious. "I'd have never thought Wednesday Addams would demand so much of my time."

Wednesday would never, ever admit that something as silly as words could hurt her. They were just words, and she'd have to care enough to let them affect her. Even Enid's rare spiteful words were more of something she used to reflect on rather than let them dig at her.

Yet, here she was, clenching her jaw and feeling her throat constrict.

Wednesday clenches her fist. "This was a mistake." She turns around and starts walking away, feeling violently ill. She only gets a few steps away before you're chasing after her.

"No, Wednesday—wait," you grab her hand, and Wednesday absolutely detests the way it soothes her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." Your tone is full of regret and sincerity.

Wednesday stands still in her spot a moment longer before she slowly turns back to you. You don't let go of her hand, and she doesn't pull away.

"Then, why?" Wednesday asks, even though she isn't in a position to accuse you, as she's the exact same when lashing out.

"Because..." you let out a deep sigh, holding Wednesday's hand more tightly. "Because I'm jealous."

Wednesday's eyebrows furrow. She is thoroughly at a loss. "Jealous?"

You shrug and then nod. "Jealous, upset, lamenting—whatever you want to call it."

"Of what, exactly?" Wednesday frowns.

"Enid."

"Enid?" Wednesday is even more confused. "Why would you be envious of Enid?"

"It's not necessarily Enid as a person. I know she's your best friend," you sigh. "It's more of Enid as a concept."

"As a concept?" Wednesday raises her brow, prompting you to continue on.

You stare at Wednesday, studying her entirety with a focus that begins to make Wednesday uncomfortable even if she doesn't show it.

"Everybody talks about last year," you reveal slowly. "Since I wasn't here, everyone is excited to share last year in detail."

Wednesday nods. Even her group talked about last year's events when you hung out with them from time to time.

"The only thing I can think about when people talk of it is how different you've become," you say quietly. "Which isn't a bad thing, but I'm very aware of the fact that Enid was a big factor in your change."

Wednesday lets the words soak in, analyzing them before she nods in agreement. "Enid has left an enduring mark on me, and she continues to—do not repeat that to her."

You give Wednesday a wry grin. "Yes, Enid is..." you sigh. "She's warm like the sun—like basking under the rays. I can't blame you because I feel it in her presence too. She's genuine and bold. What you see is what you get, and you can't help but be charmed."

"I would say Enid is more like a fungus that grows on you and you have no choice but to be fond of, but continue on."

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you look at Wednesday, mirroring her impassive eyes. "I'm not like that."

Wednesday raises her brow. "And?"

You swallow, and Wednesday sees something dim behind your eyes. "I will never be warm like the sun, and what I show others will always be different—always a mask. Wednesday, despite you being grim, solemn, and interested in all morbidities, you're enticed by the sun and moved by its warmth." It was such a miserable smile. "And that will never be me."

You drop Wednesday's hand, and there's something so hollowing about it that Wednesday wants to tell you that you're such a fucking moron because the lack of your warmth is upsetting her.

"Did you fall on your head when I wasn't watching?" Wednesday snaps at you, and you merely stare back at her. She grabs your hand back, almost crushing it to punish you.

"Basking in the sun is only tolerable when you're sitting under the shade," Wednesday follows your ridiculous metaphors. "I will admit that Enid's warmth has taught me that while I enjoy solitude, it is a choice—not a condemnation."

"I will also admit that Enid has her whims indulged by me more," Wednesday rolls her eyes but looks at you sternly. "But so do you. I could argue I let you get away with more."

"Do I?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"If anyone consumed my thoughts and put me through such self-pity and suffering as much as you do, I would have already turned them into the next true crime documentary."

You can't help but crack a smile.

Wednesday looks at you, her eyes softening, and she evenly says, "It is easy to adulate the light." Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "Show me your darkness."

You squeeze Wednesday's hand gently, and the tension in your fades, your shoulder becoming relaxed.

The anger subsides within Wednesday, quelling as she knows this stupidity is coming to its end and you will no longer be avoiding her.

It comes to Wednesday suddenly how much emotional labor you put her through, and she's in disbelief that you think you aren't capable of changing her.

"You are..." Wednesday huffs with frustration. "Unpleasant."

You can't help but laugh. "You are, too."

"You already knew that," Wednesday plainly says. "I told you I would devastate you at some point."

"I wouldn't say I'm devastated," you smile amusedly at Wednesday's dramatics.

"Nevertheless, this is still a mistake."

"And what a grand mistake it would be," you muse.

"We clearly don't know what we're doing."

"I guess we just have to keep going until we do."

"Quite frankly, even if we do, we will still both needlessly suffer," Wednesday warns.

You hum, drawing Wednesday closer. Wednesday looks a little wary, but she allows your proximity. Her eyebrows are slightly tense as she gazes at you.

"I heard your mother named you after her favorite poem," you say softly, your hand grazing Wednesday's fingers before you entangle them together. For someone who enjoyed the cold so much, her hands were warm. "Wednesday's child is full of woe."

Wednesday only nods slightly because moving too much would make her lips graze yours.

The tension is so thick, Wednesday could suffocate in it. How lovely.

Your lips graze against Wednesday, and she tightens her hands against yours when you pull away. You look at Wednesday's eyes so vehemently, and she experiences opia all over again.

"But did you know?"

Wednesday can feel your breath on her face.

"Love is suffering—and we get the honor of enduring its torment."

Your lips press warmly against the corner of Wednesday's mouth, and she finds you're veracious. What torture it is—and Wednesday takes delight in it.

#👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼#just chefs kiss 🤌🏼💋#💕💕💕💕❤️❤️👏🏼👏🏼#mm2.fics #wednesday addams x reader

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imagine-reblog · 2 years ago

Text

—OPIA | FOUR

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been avoiding Wednesday's gaze lately.

Warnings: Angst. Protective!Wednesday. The Addams Family reunion. Larissa is exasperated. Enid, the gossip queen. Thing, the chaperone. Xavier, gets no breaks.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I rewrote this chapter so many times but I think it definitely explores the most intimacy so far. Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated 🥺💘

Part Three

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Opia: Noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

Wednesday is agitated.

To succinctly summarize, you have been refusing to look Wednesday in the eye as of late.

It took a while for Wednesday to notice, perhaps because your back was always turned to her when she met up with you nightly to apply the medicine on your wings. And when that was finished, you kept your eyes focused on the pond while you talked.

And for a while, your witty banter and intriguing anecdotes had kept Wednesday distracted. The more time she spent with you, the more she began craving something she couldn't quite place.

Wednesday found herself enjoying listening to you talk about your life before Nevermore. Of course, she could tell you were avoiding talking about anything serious, but there was a small relief that there were good moments in your life as well.

In turn, Wednesday shared anecdotes of her own childhood, tales of the times she had to rescue Pugsley because he was weak, squishy, and sensitive. Whereas other people had looked at her disturbed and passed judgment on her, you had grinned and laughed.

Wednesday never minded the judgment from others, but she quietly admitted to herself that it was also pleasing to have someone enjoy her morbidity and harsh penchant for revenge.

So, maybe that's why Wednesday began to notice. Her discovery to see what your face looked like as she told her stories had led her to realize you've been avoiding eye contact.

You made it seem like it wasn't on purpose, fiddling with flowers until they've been weaved into crowns or giving Thing manicures—he's been getting much too pampered between you and Enid.

But even when Wednesday called your name, you looked at her, but you weren't looking at her. It was like you were looking past her, like Wednesday couldn't even be seen by you, and she despised it.

Wednesday detests people who can't look her in the eye. It was a sign of deceit, guilt, and secrecy.

And Wednesday will be damned if she'll let you keep any more secrets from her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Oh my god, did you hear?" Enid leans her head forward at their table in the quad.

Wednesday was reading her spellbook, her eyes occasionally trailing across the quad to where you sat with the faceless outcasts. You seemed very intrigued about learning how they communicated.

"Hear what?" Yoko asks, adjusting her sunglasses. The vampire has taken to joining their table lately, and sometimes it would grate on Wednesday's mind to hear Enid and Yoki incessantly talk and gossip.

"Ajax was telling me all about it this morning," Enid grins as she looks over to the stoners. "Apparently, someone changed one of the girls' bathrooms near the Gorgon rooms to nothing but mirrors. I heard that two gorgon girls walked in this morning and were stuck stoning themselves over and over."

"Shit, that's awful," Xavier frowns.

Wednesday smirks behind her book.

"I wonder who would do that," Yoko casually comments.

They all look at Wednesday.

"So, why'd you do it?" Xavier asks, resting his chin in his hand.

"Even animals know to have evidence before accusing someone," Wednesday flatly speaks, her eyes never leaving her book.

"So," Eugene tilts his head with confusion, "you didn't do it?"

"I never said that," Wednesday's reply was uninterested.

Because Wednesday did do it.

The investigation took longer than it normally would with her being distracted by you. But finding out something so trivial, like who had hurt you, was child's play.

Wednesday had debated long about what to do. The idea of filling their rooms with tarantulas or poisonous snakes had first come to mind, but she knew it was almost guaranteed that Weems would discover it was her if the girls died.

While she did save the school last year, it would be unlikely Weems would allow her to stay here if she did kill someone, as tempting it would be.

Wednesday sighs lightly through her nose. It would've looked lovely on her record.

But expulsion would mean being very, very far from you, and Wednesday couldn't have that.

At least—not before she at least found out why you've been refusing to look her in the eye.

"Hi, everyone."

Everyone's attention turns to you as you begin walking up to them. They greet you back, and Xavier, Enid, and Eugene are already throwing out the nicknames they came up with that week.

"Tinker Bell!"

"Winx Club!"

"Bloom!"

"Eugene, that was literally just a rip off of mine," Xavier laughs.

"Those are all terrible," you laugh along, shaking your head. "Are you guys just thinking of all things faerie-related only?"

"Well, yeah," Xavier blinks as if there couldn't be anything else.

"Well, continue on then," you gave them a lopsided smile.

"Really? None of them?" Xavier sighs as he moves down his seat to let you sit between him and Wednesday.

"Can you blame her?" Wednesday comments while turning the page.

"Oh, yeah?" Xavier raises his brow. "Let's hear what you've got then."

"And let you idiots ride off my coattails? I think not."

Xavier starts grumbling, and you chuckle.

"Hi, Wednesday," you say softly, looking over at her.

Wednesday looks up at you, but you start staring at her bangs as soon as she does.

She glares.

"Oh, hey, I think you've got some dirt on your back," Xavier says, his eyes squinting as he stares at your back. "Here, I got it."

Xavier lifts his hand and starts to descend upon your back when Wednesday reaches over and grabs his wrist, twisting it back.

"Ah!" Xavier grunts. "What the hell, Wednesday!?"

Wednesday is holding up her book with one hand while holding Xavier's wrist in the other, glaring at him. "What are you doing, you oaf? Are you trying to dislodge her lungs from her chest?" She flings his wrist away, glaring at him while he shakes off the sting in his wrist.

"I was just trying to help," Xaiver mumbles, looking confused.

Wednesday doesn't dignify him with a reply as she inspects your back carefully and does find dirt on it. "Were you rolling around in the grass?" Her tone is flat, but her lip is curled in distaste.

Still, she carefully begins to brush the dirt off your back. It's a far cry from the hard pats you would've gotten from Xavier.

"Maybe," you sound amused.

"Christ, Wednesday," Xavier huffs. "Morgan le Fay over here isn't made of glass."

"It's a no to that one too," you shake your head.

"C'mon!" Xavier groans. "You're not going to pick anything at this rate."

"You never know," you shrug, smiling. You look at your watch on the palm side of your wrist. "Class is starting soon. I'm going to head out." Turning your head to Wednesday, you tilt your head. "I believe your class is on the way. Do you want to go together?"

Wednesday nods jerkily, packing up her things. She doesn't say anything to the group other than giving a look and walking off with you.

The walk down the halls is quiet, as it usually is. It's something Wednesday can appreciate that you never feel the need to fill the silence. But halfway through, you break the quietness.

"I heard the bathroom near the Gorgon's dormitory was changed to mirrors," you say nonchalantly.

"I see," Wednesday's tone betrays nothing.

"My usual lab partners were absent as they were apparently stoned all day—over, and over, and over."

"How lucky."

You stop walking, causing Wednesday to stop as well. You face each other, but once again, you are staring at her ears.

"I told you it was an accident," you sigh. "She doesn't know my wings are hidden inside my back. No one does."

"Accident or not, she still slapped your back—and I don't care that it was meant to be jovial—hard enough to reopen your wounds," Wednesday snaps and then sneers, "What? Were her hands partially stoned when she patted you?"

You seem unsure of what to say to Wednesday. In the end, you sigh.

"Even though it was unnecessary, thank you." It's soft and sincere, and the gruesome butterflies are eating Wednesday's insides again. It probably would've been worse if you had actually been looking Wednesday in the eyes when you said it.

"You're welcome," Wednesday says stiffly, and you turn to walk again.

The silence resumes, and Wednesday is nearly so fed up that she's about to just ask you if she's done something wrong. But what actually comes out of her mouth is, "Are you looking forward to Parent's day?"

There's an internal frustration rising within Wednesday.

"I'm ambivalent," you reveal, your tone even.

"I assume your parents won't be coming?"

You chuckle. "Unlikely."

"Will you spend the day with Weems, then?"

"Maybe," you seem pensive. "But she'll most likely be busy talking to other parents. Are your parents coming?"

Wednesday sighs. "Unfortunately, yes. They'll want to know how I've suffered so far."

You chuckle. "They seem like horrible people."

"Thank you, they are."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Oh, my little storm cloud, how have you been doing?" Gomez coos as he walks towards her.

"Wednesday, you look positively pale," Morticia comments. "It suits you."

Wednesday brushes off the comment, feeling awkward but nods at her mother to acknowledge it. Her eyes then focus on Pugsley, and she accesses him.

"Pugsley, you look feeble and squishy as per usu—are you sniveling again."

"I missed you, too, Wednesday," Pugsley smiled.

The four of them sit at a nearby table. Wednesday's eyes skim the quad, catching her various friends with their families. Enid seems to be getting along better with her mother, but Wednesday will always despise that woman.

"Who are you searching for, Wednesday?" Morticia's voice drags Wednesday's attention back to her family, who are all staring at her curiously.

"No one," Wednesday answers flatly.

But her mother only smiles as if she knows Wednesday's secret, which utterly irks her.

"So, how have you been faring?" Gomez asks, his face genuinely eager to hear.

"Dreadful," Wednesday replies. "Not once has my life been put at risk, nor have I been accused of any murders. Not even a single stalker."

Morticia and Gomez gaze at each other for a moment before back at Wednesday placatingly.

"It's...quieter than your first year here, but not every year may be filled with mayhem," Morticia smiled. "At least, not in the way you expect."

"What do you know about faeries?" Wednesday asks, changing the subject as it was intruding on a topic Wednesday herself wasn't prepared to talk about.

Morticia and Gomez seem lost in their thoughts as they contemplate Wednesday's question.

"Why do you ask?" Morticia finally answers. "Is that who you've been looking around for?"

Wednesday doesn't answer her mother's question, but the lack of an answer is an answer in itself. Luckily, her mother is merciful and only gives Wednesday a knowing smile.

"Not much," Morticia answers. "I believe we had only one ancestor who has ever visited a fae realm. They might've documented it somewhere in a diary."

Wednesday's eyes sparkled with interest. "Is that so? Do we still have it?"

"Perhaps," Morticia muses, her voice dragging at the end, and Wednesday felt herself tense. She knows that tone and already begins mentally bargaining.

"Alright," Wednesday says evenly. "What do you want in return for sending me the diary?"

Morticia tilts her head to the side, a black widow-like grin on her lips. "Larissa let me know that the next Parent's day will be when students get to go home for the weekend. I want you to bring your fae friend."

"Why?" Wednesday demands, her eyebrows furrowed in displeasure.

"Because Wednesday," Morticia leans into Gomez, who puts her arm around her. "You rarely show interest in other people. Enid is a lovely girl, and I hope to host her one day as well, but she didn't have you sitting here asking your mother what I knew about werewolves."

"What makes you think my 'fae friend' will be available to come?" Wednesday shot back.

Morticia doesn't chuckle in consideration for her prickly daughter, who was more likely than ever to say hurtful words now.

"You've been looking around the quad, but your eyes haven't landed on anyone. If they're not here, then neither are their parents. And if that's the case, they'll be unlikely to show up for the second Parent's day," Morticia looks around the quad and then back to Wednesday. "It would've been nice to meet them today."

Wednesday says nothing about the last comment but contemplates her options. The idea of introducing her parents to you was dreadfully...uncomfortable. But the diary...Wednesday sighed an internal breath of defeat.

"Fine," Wednesday concedes. "I will ask, but I cannot control the outcome of the answer. I want the diary regardless."

"Agreed," Morticia nods.

"Alright," Gomez claps his hands together. "Why don't I catch you up on what Uncle Fester has been up to?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday feels a casual headache forming.

The day was long, and her family had been one of the last few to go. While her relationship with her mother improved after resolving the Garret Gates case, there was still a limit on how much time she could spend with her before feeling like she was on edge.

Although, Wednesday was pleased that her brother was faring better in school and no one was torturing him in fear his killer sister would come for them. It made her smirk a little.

But now that the day has ended, Wednesday finds herself craving something—craving you. She checks her watch, but it's still too early in the day to meet up with you for your salve treatment.

Wednesday runs her tongue against the back of her teeth in contemplation.

Friends...you were friends, weren't you?

Enid had confirmed it. With the consistent hangouts, shared stories, and occasional walking each other to class...that was friends, wasn't it?

So, if Wednesday wanted to see you earlier, she could. With that, she turns in the direction to start looking for you. You were nowhere in the quad, so Wednesday began to look for you in places you usually were.

In the end, Wednesday could not find you.

And she was angry.

First, you were avoiding eye contact, and now, you've hidden somewhere without saying a word.

When she finds you, Wednesday promised herself repercussions.

"Enid," Wednesday calls out evenly when she spots the blonde dragging her feet through the halls.

"Oh, hey, Wednesday," Enid says tiredly and then smiles. "Survived Parent's day, did we?"

"There was never a doubt."

"What's up?"

"Have you seen..." Wednesday drags and then shakes her head. "Did you happen to see—"

"I saw Faerie Canary a couple of hours ago with Bianca," Enid cut in to spare Wednesday. "Bianca's parents didn't show up either."

"Back to the rhyming, are we?" Wednesday doesn't hold back the unimpressed tone.

Enid only makes a face.

"Are they still together?" Wednesday asks.

Enid shakes her head. "I don't think so. I only heard bits of their conversation when I passed by with my family earlier."

Wednesday tilts her head, waiting for Enid to continue.

Enid looks mildly uncomfortable as she rubs the back of her neck.

"Enid," Wednesday's eyes narrow threateningly.

With a sigh, Enid mutters, "This isn't the type of gossip I'm into." But then she focuses back on Wednesday and looks at her seriously. "Don't repeat what I'm telling you. Not only do I think Bianca will stab me with her fencing sword, but I don't think Fae will talk to me if this spreads around."

Wednesday nods, and Enid looks around. Satisfied that there's no one in sight, she leans in closer to say quietly, "Bianca was talking about how it was unlikely her mother would visit again after last year. Their relationship is strained and complicated, but Bianca said she knows her mother does love her and wants the best for her. Bianca said how every mother wants the best for their kid, even if they have a fucked up way of showing it, although it was between her mother and mine for winning an award for the way they went about it." Enid scrunches her nose at that.

Wednesday nods, unsurprised by the comment.

Enid pursed her lips. "Well, then—" Enid huffs. "Fae just laughed, and then she said, 'Unless your mother's best for you is your demise, I think my mother has both of you beat on that.' I don't think she elaborated on it and left shortly after."

Wednesday was silent, her face furrowed as she thought about Enid's words. There was something uncomfortable nagging at her, and it was going to result in something Wednesday would despise.

"I see."

Enid nods. "If you find her, you didn't hear it from me, okay?" Enid gives Wednesday a look. "I also might not come back to the room tonight. I'm going to hang out with Yoko and Ajax."

Wednesday nods. "If you don't provide me an update at night, I will assume the worst and their murders will be the reason for my second expulsion here."

Enid smiles widely, doing her best to refrain from hugging her friend. "I will let you know I'm safe."

Without saying anything else, Wednesday turns and begins to head somewhere else.

Principal Weems's office.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Principal Weems," Wednesday calls after she knocks once and then proceeds to enter without waiting for a reply.

"Wednesday," Weems sighs deeply when she sees the gloomy girl. "How lovely to see you in my office. I assume your parents' visit went well?"

"It went fine. My mother was delighted to hear you weren't murdered and made a full recovery during the summer," Wednesday says bluntly.

Weems tries not to roll her eyes, especially when she remembers Wednesday's concerned face hovering over her when she had been injected with nightshade.

"Yes," Weems says dryly. "Surviving was the highlight of my summer." Then Weems sighs. "What can I do for you, Wednesday? Are you looking for our resident faerie? I've been told about the contest for coming up with a nickname. So far, I've heard some...interesting suggestions."

"She told you about that?" Wednesday narrows her eyes.

"Fae tells me about most things," Weems reveals. "But as her legal guardian, it's also my job to know."

"You call her Fae?" Wednesday frowns.

Weems smirks. "She actually quite likes it. I believe outside of her own amusement, Fae had her own hopes about the results of the contest."

"What does that—"

"What can I help you with, Wednesday? It's getting late."

Wednesday clenches her jaw in annoyance but tries to relax, remembering her objective of coming here in the first place.

"I want to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth."

Weems nods. "I'll do my best."

"I'm aware that her parents couldn't visit today for her safety," Wednesday looks at Weems expectantly, who nods.

"But I was under the impression that it was their judgment that it was too dangerous," Wednesday's face was impassive. "That's not exactly true, is it? She had said the more in contact they are with her, the more it exposes her location—which is true to keep other faeries away, but the full truth is this place is meant to guard her against her parents too, isn't it?"

Principal Weems sighed, looking both annoyed and impressed as she looked at Wednesday. "Well, since you've already figured out this much from what she's told you, I assume you'll find out soon enough because you're incessant and nosy." Weems rolled her eyes. "And I would prefer you don't alert the entire school as you do your investigations, so I trust what I'll say remains between us."

Wednesday felt her jaw tightening, her position staunch as she waited for Weems to come out and say something that would irrevocably change things.

"Yes, it is too dangerous for her parents to visit," Weems confirmed. "But not because they deem it so, but because I do. I wasn't offered guardianship because her parents brought her here and requested it, but because she escaped and found me."

So few little things make Wednesday's heart beat faster. Usually, it's from excitement, but Wednesday doesn't feel the excitement from the words, 'she escaped.'

Wrong.

Wednesday had been wrong.

Wednesday is filled with dread, rage, and vengeful thoughts—promises.

"As you know, night faeries are outcasts within their own group. Many people dread their existence, and some are even violent enough to take matters into their own hands before they believe calamity ensues," Weems's hands were tightly clasped together on her desk. "I will never allow her parents to step foot on these grounds because her mother was the one to try to cut her wings off."

Wednesday turns and leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's nothing like the frustration of not having your number when you're nowhere to be found. Wednesday considers coming up with some ridiculous nickname and forcing you to accept it the next time she sees you.

There's only about an hour before she usually sneaks out to see you for your salve treatment, so Wednesday decides she'll play the cello to get her mind off things.

It'll be difficult with the hot rage that beats furiously inside Wednesday's chest. Her emotions dictate she avenges you because that's the only way she knows how to show she cares.

Wednesday opens the door to her room and finds it empty, as expected, with Enid not returning tonight. But when she looked out the balcony, she could see a silhouette of someone sitting on the railings.

Immediately, Wednesday made her way over and opened the window to see you gazing at the sky, swinging your legs as Thing sat next to you. The noise makes you turn around, and Wednesday can't explain the immense relief at seeing your face.

"Where have you been?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"I could ask you the same," Wednesday asks with a clenched jaw.

"Around," you shrug your shoulders. "But I wanted to see you earlier than our usual time, so Thing let me in about half an hour ago."

"So, you've been here for half an hour?" Wednesday glares.

You nod.

She was going to break Thing's fingers, but the disembodied hand looked confused at Wednesday's irate behavior, and she had no choice but to let it go.

With a deep breath out of her nose, Wednesday steps out onto the balcony and joins you in sitting on the railings. It was quite a far drop-down that guaranteed either a lifetime of being a paraplegic or death.

It was kind of nice.

"How was parent's day?" You ask softly, staring out into the view.

"I survived."

You smile. "Your parents and brother are refreshing. It looked fun."

"It was not," Wednesday immediately corrects you. "You saw?"

You nod. "For a bit."

It was silent for a bit before Wednesday spoke up again.

"I talked to Weems before I went looking for you." Wednesday looks at you, but you don't look at her. "She's spilled all your secrets."

You laugh, and Wednesday frowns.

"I told her she could tell you if you asked," you reveal, a quirk on your lips but still refusing to look at her.

"Why?" Wednesday demands. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because somewhere along the lines, you stopped asking me."

The words hit Wednesday in the gut, making her feel unwell and breathless. It was true, and Wednesday can't even remember when she stopped asking and started assuming.

It was so unlike her.

All of this leads towards something Wednesday knows will make her face a revelation she's not sure she's ready to.

Still, Wednesday needs to ask because that's how mysteries are solved.

"Why have you stopped looking me in the eye?"

There's silence, and despite how much Wednesday has loved it all her life, she wishes you'd say something now.

You grant her wish.

"Do you know what I think about why you stopped asking me questions?" You ask instead of answering her question. You don't give her time to answer it, though. "Everybody has told me you've got an obsession with solving mysteries. But somewhere along the lines, you knew deep down your interest would continue even after you got your answers. That would mean you're vulnerable—and you don't want to be."

Wednesday felt herself clenching her jaw and fists so tightly she could draw blood from her palms.

"So, when you asked me why I stopped looking at you in the eyes, it's because it’ll push you towards being vulnerable." As if to prove your point, you finally turn and look at Wednesday—really look at her, like she's been wanting for weeks.

You look at Wednesday, locking gazes, and Wednesday feels like she sees galaxies and constellations in your eyes. It's opening her up to your bottomless, gleaming pupils. It's invasive and vulnerable, but the thing is—Wednesday can't tell if you're looking into her or if she's the one who's looking into you.

Wednesday thinks she sees something in you that you didn't mean to share, just as you saw something in her.

You turn your head, almost ripping your gaze from Wednesday's.

"Unpleasant, wasn't it?" You say with a self-deprecating smile.

"Yes," Wednesday answers, swallowing.

You nod stiffly. "Then, for both our sake, stop—"

"But in a way that I favored," Wednesday cut in.

You slowly turn your head back, catching Wednesday's intense gaze.

Wednesday's face somehow softened, her brows less tense and eyes less narrow. It was minuscule, but you noticed.

"I'm not good at this—whatever this is," Wednesday says quietly. "I will most likely devastate you at some point but for now, all I can vow is to ask you questions if you stop avoiding my gaze."

You stare at Wednesday, analyzing her face, and she wonders exactly what you're thinking.

In the end, you chuckle. "Deal, but no questions tonight. My wings are sore, and I hear you're an excellent cellist."

#Faes mother tho💀 tryna kill ur own child??#Momma Weems 4 the win👏🏼👏🏼❤️#also poor Bianca n Enid 🥲they deserve better moms🫂#beautiful and amazing as always ❤️#thank u 4 ur amazing writing 👏🏼#just chefs kiss 🤌🏼💋#mm2.fics #wednesday addams x reader

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imagine-reblog · 2 years ago

Text

It was yours—her traitorous heart belonged to you. You no longer needed to reach inside her chest because her heart leapt out and crawled into your palms.

Pls that's just so beautifully Wednesdaylly described, just 🤌🏼💋👌🏼

Want Your Slow Dance | WDoE Epilogue 2

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday has very little interest going to the Rave'N Dance again. She can tell you're a little disappointed but she's satisfied you'll let her be...until you're considering going with one of the gorgon girls as "friends". Jealous!Wednesday

Warnings: jealous!wednesday. possessive!wednesday. Soft!Wednesday. slow dancing & kisses intimacy, the one time wednesday partakes in pda.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: epilogue 2 but could also be read as a stand alone <3

Epilogue 1

Count: 3.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday admits she's made a mistake.

It's seldom that she makes mistakes, and just like all the other ones she's made with other people, she's finding it difficult to make amends. It's even harder because you're not even upset with her.

This was a problem Wednesday created all on her own, and she was the only one stuck sulking over it.

"Hi, Wednesday," you grin at her, leaning in to kiss her cool cheek. Wednesday feels the warmth of your lips and threads her fingers through yours, squeezing them firmly.

You linger, and Wednesday doesn't move to pull away. Your wings unfurl and flutter in excitement at how much you adore your girlfriend.

"Careful," Wednesday sternly warns you. "You'll split open your wounds."

You look sheepish, but only because it would undo all the careful and tender caring Wednesday has poured into healing your wings.

"Why are you here?" Wednesday asks as she pulls you toward her desk. She was in the middle of her hourly writing when you showed up, and it was the perfect time as she was aware you were supposed to go shopping with Enid and Yoko today.

"I wanted to see you before I left to go shopping," you admit softly. "It just felt like I might not make it through the dresses and frills if I didn't see you first."

Wednesday remains silent. Her eyes move away, looking downwards. If you didn't know Wednesday Addams, you'd think she was losing interest in your words since there was no physical difference to see. But you knew better.

The way she continued to hold your hand and—you lift one hand to caress her cheek as your fingers land on her ear—the hot shell of her ears.

"Cheesy?" You ask, a smile on your lips.

"Disgustingly so," Wednesday grimaces, but you only laugh. "You're disgusting."

"I think you like it...and me."

Wednesday knows there's no point in denying it ever since you've discovered the horrible secret of her blush being in her ears. She merely sighs, turning her face to kiss the inside of your palm as she looks at you warningly.

"Tell anyone and—" Wednesday pauses. She takes a deep breath in frustration. She can't even plot your murder, something she typically excels at.

You grin wider as if you know.

"Tell anyone, and you'll be sleeping alone all next week."

Your jaw drops.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday's typing rhythm has been thrown off since you left. She typically leaves her phone tucked away elsewhere to not distract her during her ritual writing hour, but today was an exception.

Any day you're not with her during the writing hour is an exception.

Wednesday types a few sentences before pausing, her mind drifting. She tries to threaten herself with suffering if she doesn't focus, but nothing could make her suffer more than what distracts her.

She thinks back to why you're going shopping with Enid in the first place.

"The Rave'N Dance is coming up."

Wednesday paused her reading but didn't set her book down. The day was still a little cool, with spring not quite in full effect, and the two of you had opted to spend time together near the river under the shade of a tree.

"Is that so," Wednesday answered with no particular interest in her voice.

"Mhm," you hummed, placing your hand over Wednesday's on the grass. "I've never been before."

Wednesday felt the warmth of your hand over hers and was slightly impressed with how you generate and retain heat despite being in the cold. She turned over to look at you, taking in how you didn't hold any singular expression on your face, but Wednesday knew better. She could see the glint in your eye, the way your throat constricted when you swallowed.

"It's nothing special," Wednesday advised, her voice disinterested as she recalled last year's dance. "Even when someone tried to sabotage it, it was done poorly."

"Oh," you said quietly, and Wednesday turned her hand upwards so you could hold hands, easing your disappointment. You stroked the inside of her palm as you asked softly, "So, you don't want to go this year?"

It was silent momentarily as Wednesday carefully considered her words. "I admit I have no vested interest, but if you're interested, I encourage you to experience it with Enid and her pack of gazelles."

"Gazelles?" You raised your brow at your girlfriend. "And that makes you what?"

"I believe I told Enid last year that I was a wounded fawn."

You snorted, shaking your head at her. "That seems inherently wrong for some reason—I just can't put my finger on it."

"Nevertheless, go enjoy the frivolities if you so choose."

You looked at her, obviously disappointed but doing well to accept it. It was a quality that Wednesday appreciated in you. You never pushed Wednesday to change her answer or forced her to attend things she had no desire to be a part of.

You kissed her cheek. "Okay," you said. "If you say so."

But what a blunder that was.

What an inherently foolish mistake to make, and Wednesday only wishes she could turn back time to halt her mouth from opening and rejecting your obvious advances to get her to be your date to the stupid dance.

Wednesday's used to keeping people at a distance, fully enjoying they wouldn't be brave enough to bother her—except for Xavier, whose offer has been declined with a hollow laugh and walking away—but that wouldn't be the case for you.

The second the student body discovered that Wednesday Addams was not taking her girlfriend to the Rave'N Dance, it was like all hell broke loose.

Every single day for weeks, Wednesday had to deal with some insufferable outcast muster up the courage to ask you to be their date. Watching them physically take a deep breath and drag their feet towards you was aggravating.

Wednesday just wasn't going with you; it wasn't like you were going separate ways forever.

But it was bearable, especially watching you decline all of them in that polite façade you put on for others. It was a reminder that they would never see the real you. That version of you only belonged to Wednesday, and even on the slim chance someone saw it, they could never have it.

It placated Wednesday into only silently glaring at those stupid enough to approach and ask you. Watching them stutter from her look before being declined by you was adequate—until that gorgon girl you so senselessly continued to be friends with came to ask you.

Wednesday huffs as she types a few more sentences, her mind drifting again.

The clatter of noises rattled around in Wednesday's ear as she refused to move to the side as students filed out of the classroom. She arrived punctually as always to your class so that the two of you could walk to botany together.

Wednesday spotted you packing your things up with little haste as you usually did. You turned and saw Wednesday, waving as you put the last things in your bag. You were walking towards her, getting closer, when someone stopped you.

That annoying gorgon girl, the one that you insist, was merely enthused and with a firm touch.

The one that Wednesday had stoned over and over when she put mirrors into the bathroom where the gorgon girls were.

Wednesday still detested her despite your reassurance and pleading.

You were stopped and listening to whatever was being said to you. You seemed deep in thought after, looking up in contemplation before you looked back at your friend, nodding.

You continued walking along with her, smiling as she grinned at you.

"Alright, I'll see you later!"

"Bye," you waved, continuing to smile until the gorgon girl passed Wednesday with an unsure nod of acknowledgment before she kept going.

Once it was just the two of them, you turned to Wednesday, your smiling shifting into something only Wednesday was allowed to see.

"Hi, Wednesday."

"What was that?"

"What?"

"That," Wednesday deadpanned. "What did that girl want?"

"Oh, Thea?" You tilted your head as you walked, Wednesday following along. "She just asked if I wanted to go to the Rave'N Dance with her."

"I see," Wednesday unclenched her fist. "She's surprisingly chirpy for someone who's just been turned down."

You turned your head to look at Wednesday, blinking as you said, "I said yes."

Wednesday stopped in her tracks, causing you to stop as well.

"What?" Wednesday asked but then followed up with, "Why?"

You shrugged, tilting your head as if you were confused. "We're just going as friends. We'll be hanging out with Enid and stuff."

"Then why did she need to ask you?"

"Well, I'm sure we can do other stuff together when everyone pairs off. Like the games and oh—the slow dancing. As friends."

Wednesday wonders if she still had those mirrors lying around somewhere.

Wednesday stopped typing. She looks at the time and finds the hour has nearly passed. Looking at her paper, she decides she cannot continue writing despite how little work was done, and Wednesday refuses to compromise the quality of her work.

With a reluctant sigh, she grabs her phone and sees she has yet to receive a text from you. Contemplating her options, Wednesday quickly sends you a text before putting her phone back on the table, screen-side down.

Deciding to go on a walk, Wednesday makes her way around the academy. With it being the weekend, most of the campus was dead, with students out in Jericho town to get shopping done for the dance.

The school is abuzz with excitement, and Wednesday can't find it more nauseating. She's passing by the greenhouse when she hears a familiar voice.

"Oh, what about this one? This one matches her eyes."

Wednesday peers in and sees the gorgon girl—Thea—with another student and holding a flower.

"Can you turn this into a corset?"

"Hm, it'll be hard but I probably can. You're really putting a lot into this Rave'N Dance," the other student says. Probably the head of the gardening club. "I thought you said you were going with a friend."

"Yeah, but no reason I can't do the date stuff with her. I'm sure she'd appreciate a corset—"

More words were coming from Thea's mouth, but Wednesday couldn't hear them over the burning rage building up in her chest and thundering in her ears.

Mirrors wouldn't cut it, Wednesday decides. Stoned and then shattered into a million tiny pieces, and the ground into dust was the only acceptable answer.

Wednesday's about to step in when her phone vibrates in her pocket.

It's from Enid.

Wednesday reads the words, a plan formulating in her mind. Well, there was only one way to fix this without having to murder someone and be expelled (which was a shame), and also without having to directly confront you about her mistake.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday hears scuffling approaching the door, and she turns, walking towards the door to open it as she's fully expecting to see Thing back with the dress.

But all she sees is her roommate.

Her roommate, who looks thoroughly unimpressed with Thing on her shoulder and a clear garment bag with a dress in it, stares at her before passing over the bag.

"Wednesday, if you get Thing to use his five finger discount again, I will put you in jail."

"The fact that you think there's a cell that could keep me locked up is what makes you endearing at times."

"Ha-ha," Enid laughs dryly. She watches as Wednesday inspects the dress a little longer before. "Cutting it a little late, aren't we? Why couldn't you just have said yes when fairy berry asked you in the first place. I'm guessing you're just going to crash her date tonight?"

Wednesday ignores the nickname that Enid stubbornly uses for you. "It's a ‘friend’ date," she dismisses. "I'm aware the hierarchy for events like these would have girlfriend at the top."

"You're so insufferable."

"Thank you."

Enid sighs. "Alright, let's just get ready together. I have a feeling your hair will take ages to get right."

"Weren't you going to get ready with Yoko?"

"I texted her to meet me here. C'mon, let's get going. Also, you owe me for this dress."

"I wouldn't have to if you had just let Thing use his discount."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

As Enid predicted, they were late, and the dance started 20 minutes ago. Enid bids Wednesday goodbye the second they arrive before she drags Yoko off to the punch bowl where Ajax and Xavier are.

Xavier grumpily looks at her again as if to tell her he's annoyed she's at the dance again after turning him down and saying she wasn't going. It's all in jest, but Wednesday raises her brow at him anyway. He merely shakes his head with a chuckle before returning to the group.

Wednesday sees Bianca talking to Divina, they have boys hanging around them, presumably their dates, but they seem uninterested.

After that, Wednesday's quick to find you.

Wednesday feels something crawl into her heart at the sight of you across the dance floor. It was like you were reaching into her chest with your hands, unknowingly dredging deeper to grasp her heart, threatening to take it with you.

There was a part of Wednesday that didn't want to hand it over to you. She didn't want—

You turn sharply and look over at her, somehow always alert to her presence despite being in someone else's company. The way your eyes land on her, seeing Wednesday and lighting up.

It was yours—her traitorous heart belonged to you. You no longer needed to reach inside her chest because her heart leapt out and crawled into your palms.

No one has ever looked at Wednesday like that. It wasn't the fact that you were happy, because there were already people who were glad to see her. No, it was—like something was settling in you.

You look at Wednesday, and it's like you see home. And for someone like you, who has never had a home, Wednesday feels...honored.

In Spanish, there was a word called querencia: a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home, the place where you are your most authentic self.

Wednesday would give that to you as long as you stayed with her.

The song changes, and suddenly, Wednesday feels her feet move toward you. The slow beat reverberates as the sea of students moves out of her way.

It's almost too long and too short when she reaches you.

"Hi, Wednesday," you smile, "didn't think you were coming."

"I changed my mind."

"I know."

Wednesday furrows her brows. "What do you mean? I haven’t told anyone I would attend. Enid only discovered earlier today due to Thing’s blunder."

You smile, turning over to your gorgon friend, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Wednesday can't quite make it out over the noise, but she catches parts that suspiciously sound like, "Thanks for asking" and "Enjoy your night," Wednesday has a sinking feeling she's fallen into one of your traps again.

"You tricked me," Wednesday accuses, unsure whether to feel betrayed or impressed.

"Not really," you smile at her, grabbing hold of her hand. "Thea did ask if I wanted to go as friends, and I said yes, but I later told her that you'd probably show up, and if you did, well," you shrug. "I'd like to spend the evening with you."

"So, you played into my covetousness and practically spurred me into coming to this inane event despite knowing I had no interest?" Wednesday deadpans.

You shrug, seemingly unsure if Wednesday was actually annoyed or not.

"I am annoyed," Wednesday confirms, watching your shoulders drop in dread.

Wednesday smirks. Serves you right.

She grasps your hand. "But I'm annoyed at the fact that I should've said yes when you were being obvious and attended this event with you, inane or not, because you wanted to go and I strongly despise the idea of you going with anyone else—even as friends." She says the last words with a crinkle on her nose as if she didn't believe your gorgon friend really saw it as just friends.

You smile, squeezing her hand. "I think this wouldn't be as fun without you here."

"Fun is hardly the adjective I'd use to describe this affair," Wednesday drawls. "But I suppose it's a little better than last year."

"A little?" You say with mock offense.

"Be quiet and dance with me," Wednesday pulls you closer, lifting your joined hands up, while her other goes to the small of your back.

The two of you sway to slow music, watching others around you dance. You can't help but notice that Enid isn't dancing with Ajax but talking to Yoko against the wall.

"You're good at this," you comment, returning your attention to Wednesday.

"Of course," Wednesday raises her brow at you. "Dancing is a customary and essential skill in the Addams family."

"Along with torture and mayhem?" You tease but Wednesday smirks.

"And I excel at all."

"I recall Enid telling me you had some unique moves last year," you hum. "Are you going to show me them?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I can try, but most customary fae dances involve their wings and flying," you tell her, your middle finger stroking the back of Wednesday's hand.

"Oh?" Wednesday muses. "Sounds intriguing. It's unfortunate someone was idiotic enough to rip open their wings and extend their healing time."

You let out a laugh, a warm feeling passing over Wednesday at the sound, and she is at a loss at how much you've entangled her into you. These things you make her feel are simultaneously enjoying and torture.

Wednesday is obsessed.

"You're welcome that someone was stupid enough to do that and save your butt."

"I had it handled."

"Uh huh," you say amusedly, raising your brow at her.

Wednesday doesn't say anything else. She knows she would've been dead without you. And despite your stupidity, she showed her appreciation to you over and over the weeks you were in the depths of your recovery.

Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, and you lean your face closer, not caring who is watching and staring.

They would probably never understand how you and Wednesday worked. They would never truly get how someone who smiled as much as you did, drawing those into your gravity, could end up with someone who repelled most people.

But they were getting a glimpse of it right now.

A hint of a unique smile and an unfamiliar dangerous glint in your eye—something many will tell themselves, was a trick of the light.

It's all they can do as Wednesday moves her hands to cup your face, shielding it from view as she closes the unbidden gap, noting your lips and tongue faintly taste like a grape lollipop.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hope you enjoyed <3

Temp taglist is still open for 25 more people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only or part 10 to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library

#wednesday addams x reader #mm2.fics #wednesday x fae #amazing as always

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