#nevermore reader

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Sickness and Sprains (+ asthma)

Pairings: Reader x Weems (platonic)

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're sick and it triggers your asthma badly which leads to getting injured as well. Weems helps you out.

TW: Asthma attack, injuries, sprains, swelling, general sickness stuff

A/n more of me projecting in my fics, (i hate my asthma but it did get me out of sport in high school so that was great)

Being sick was miserable. But it was even more so while you tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Going to all your classes despite the ache in your bones. The tightness in your chest that begged for a hit of your asthma puffer. But you couldn’t. You left it in your dorm and there had been no time between classes to go back and get it. Damn did you feel some massive amount of regret about that.

Your asthma was always at its worst when you were sick and this chest infection that had made a home under the lapels of your nevermore blazer was certainly giving your lungs a run for their money. Each breath ended in a small wheeze, and you were stifling coughs as your felt the ragged and shaky intake of air in your lungs with each breath. You were only half paying attention to the botany teacher who was stood at the front of the room lecturing. You were merely pretending to take notes yet the page in-front of you was as blank as the glassy look in your eyes.

You were exhausted. Waking up in the night coughing and hitting the puffer just to fall back into a restless sleep. You were pretty sure based off the heat you could feel cooking you from the inside out that you had a fever. But you would be damned to do anything about it. Asking for help was simply not in your nature.

You absent-mindedly fiddled with the cap of your pen still staring out the huge glass windows. You must have not been paying attention or time slipped away from you because the next second you were dismissed from class. You stood righting yourself as you swayed slightly, and Enid shot you and odd look, but you turned on your heel and left before she could say anything.

Walking through the hall was hard enough on a good day with the amount of people. But when it hurt to breathe sitting down, being suffocated in a hallway while walking seemed a very real possibility. In a dazed state you kept knocking into people slightly muttering a brief apology and going back to trying to stay upright.

After a moment of walking with your eyes trained on the floor you ran straight into someone. Before you could see who, it was you felt yourself fall backwards and your wrist connected with the wall behind you. And good god did it hurt. Pain flared down your arm as you felt hands on your elbow to stabilise you from falling all the way to the floor. What little air you had managed to keep inside you very unhappy lungs was knocked from your chest leaving you wheezing something awful. You felt strong arms wrap around you as the slight vertigo of the fever made interpreting what was going on rather hard.

You rested your head on the nearest thing and after a minute registered based on the rhythmic movements that someone was carrying you. You wheezed deeply and rested your head against the persons chest. Trusting them seemed like your only option right now. It took a minute for you to realise your bag was over one of their shoulders and another minute to register who the person was. Your cheeks flushed slightly. Principle weems was carrying you bridal style through the halls. Luckily the rest of the students had gone to class, but it was just your luck you had managed to collide with the one person in the school with all the power.

Blinking you still felt the harsh ragged wheezing ratting your lungs and you tensed in her arms coughing into the crook of your elbow. Pain shot through your chest sharply before numbing back to the dull ache of a chest infection asthma attack hybrid you were growing to know quite well. After another minute your breathing was getting worse, the wheezing was sharper, and it felt as if someone was stabbing you between the ribs. Mouthfuls of air seemed to have less and less of what you needed in them, and it seemed like it just wouldn’t stay inside your lungs.

Your wrist was still burning and in your fevered haze you hoped someone would bring you your asthma puffer.

You felt your body being gently set down on something soft. The couch in weems office. You rested your head on a pillow and watched her blurry form retreat. You make a noise of protest not wanting to die alone and you watched her lips move but heard no words. After a moment you shut your eyes trying to control the breathing. Your right arm cradled your left wrist and slowly the sound came back to the world. The crackling of the fire was what you heard first before you could hear and make out what weems was saying.

“That’s it Y/n deep breaths. Nice and slow. I’ve almost found it. You're doing such a good job darling.” You could hear her rummaging in the desk drawer of her office before she made a noise of success and moved back to your side. You felt her lithe fingers gently hold the back of your head as she pressed a puffer to your lips. She was still speaking.

“Now take a deep breath in.” She said exaggerating her own breathing.

“And out.” She said. “And in.” This time when you drew a breath she pressed down on the puffer and the medicine shot into your lungs.

“Hold.” She said and waited for a bit before gesturing for you to breathe. This time you were simply panting, the wheeze almost gone. Weems lent forward and brushed a stray curl from your eyes.

“There she is.” She said and you managed a weak smile. “Do you need another round with it?” She asked holding up the small blue device. You shook your head, and she patted your thigh before setting the puffer down next to the couch.

“Im going to go and get a first aid kit, some ice and a thermometer. Stay here for me, ok?” She said and you nodded again.

Your head still swimming slightly you stayed seated. After what felt like not enough time she returned with the things. She gently placed an ice pack wrapped in a cloth over your wrist and at first you hissed at the cold contact on the sore skin but sighed after a moment. It helped dull the pain slightly.

“Alright sweet girl. Can you open your mouth for me. I’d like to take your temperature. You felt a bit too warm for my liking when i had you in my arms.” She said pressing a thermometer to your lips. You parted them and she placed the stick inside. “Under your tongue.” She said and shut your jaw with a finger on the underside of your chin.

“Now. I know that wasn’t a regular old asthma attack. I have seen many of those in my years teaching and not many have managed to scare me quite as much as that one did. A+ for effort but next time let's try to keep breathing. It's quite important believe it or not.” She chucked. She placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “Whats going on darling? It’s not like you to not watch where you're going now is it?” She said and you looked absolute miserable. All the exhaustion of keeping up the pretence was ebbing, and you were left with nothing but pure exhaustion.

“‘M sick.” You muttered around the thermometer and weems clucked her tongue and the stick beeped. She gently removed it from your mouth and looked mildly surprised by the number displayed.

“101.9 far too high.” She said disapprovingly. “Here take these.” She said and handed you two small white tablets and a glass of water. You complied and only winced slightly as the water stung the sensitive flesh of your throat which had been irritated by the coughing. Weems began to gently lift the ice pack off your wrist to inspect the swelling and gently press on parts of it. Apologising profusely when you would wince or suck a sharp breath.

“Do you have any idea whats wrong darling?” She asked and you nodded wearily.

“Chest infection.” You said.

“Have you seen the nurse?” She asked raising an eyebrow.

“No time. Busy.”

“Darling there is always time for your health. Studies come second.” She said patting your knee. Gently she replaced the ice on your wrist. “Im almost certain it's not broken darling, but it is badly sprained. You’ll need to keep icing it over the next few days. I’ll excuse you from classes for the day provided you stay nearby, preferably in my office so i can keep an eye on you. The nurse is not here today she called in sick.” Weems said frowning. “Have you eaten today?” She asked. And you nodded.

“What have you had darling?” She asked skeptically.

“Just some jam and toast and some juice.” You replied. She frowned.

“Is your throat sore at all?”

“Just from the coughing.”

“I’ll bring you some cool water to sooth your throat and if you feel up to it, please help yourself to some biscuits. I’ll have the cook send someone up with some broth for lunch later.” She said standing and brushing invisible lint from her skirt. You nodded feeling exhausted.

“Sleep if you need. Im here if you require anything.” She said once she had returned with the water. You took a tentative sip relaxing a sigh as it soothed your throat. It wasn’t long before your eyes began to close, and you felt the glass being pried from your fingers. You didn’t fight her on it, simply succumbing to sleep.

Weems returned to her desk, typing on her laptop and sending off some important emails. She paused every once in a while, to gauge the wheezing as you slept, to give her an indication of if you required anything.

It was about two hours later you woke up feeling cold. You whined softly unsure of where you were. You heard a chair move and saw the face of Principle weems couching beside you. You grinned lopsided.

“Oh dear.” She said looking at your flushed cheeks and slightly damp curls. She placed a gentle hand to your cheek before moving it to your forehead and humming in disapproval.

“I fear your fever had risen.” She said fetching a thermometer and shooting you a worried glance as you giggled deliriously.

“Darling, under your tongue.” She said popping it into your mouth.

You smiled a goofy smile and did as you were asked. You both sat looking at each other until it beeped. Weems seemed to be looking for anything further that was ailing you but only found the constant wheeze of your breathing and sweat soaked form looking slightly parched.

Once she removed the thermometer she frowned again.

“W’s wrong?” You slurred.

“102.7 we need to get that down.” She said and gently passed you some more meds and a water. You took them gratefully and she left for a moment before returning with a small basin and a washcloth. You watched curiously as she dipped the rag into the water before wringing it out and gently wiping the sweat that had beaded on your face.

With careful and precise movements, she wiped down your cheeks and forehead. Once she had finished her ministrations, she dipped it once more and wrong it out before gently placing it on your forehead where she left it to rest. You hummed in content at the cool feeling on your face and weems left for a moment to bring you the broth she had kept warm on a silver tray.

“Isnt sil’r li’e bad for the wolves?” You asked still loopy and gesticulating wildly. Weems raised an eyebrow.

“It's not real silver darling.” She said and placed the tray on your lap, adjusting the pillows and cloth so you were sat more upright. Your hands shook making it very hard to get any of the soup into your mouth. Weems placed a soft hand over yours.

“Let me.” She said and slowly began to spoon feed you the soup. Between mouthfuls you gave a small pout which weems had to fight not to smile or roll her eyes at. Once the soup was all gone, she placed the tray back on the coffee table and adjusted you once more.

“Rest now. Your body needs it.” She said brushing the hair from your eyes with her fingers and once more adjusting the crooked washcloth.

Your eyes seemed to close on their own as you drifted off once more still glassy eyed and mildly confused. You felt a hand rubbing your arm gently until you were fully under the guise of sleep.

The next time you woke it was dark and your body felt stiff. Wriggling more upright you stretched reviling in the relived tightness of your muscles. You heard the click of stilettos and weems appeared once more.

“How are you feeling?” She asked pressing her hand to your cheek. “Your fever has gone down.” She noted and you nodded blearily.

“I feel better.” You said punctuating with a cough. She looked at you and raised a brow.

“I need more than that from you Ms L/n.” She said and you blinked.

“My throat doesn’t hurt as much but my chest still aches. It feels tight and it rattles when i breathe. It's not as unbearably hot in here as before so I guess thats good.” You said softly. Weems nodded.

“Yes. I suppose it is.” She said and tapped your cheek. “Open.” She said and slipped the thermometer under your tongue.

The two of you sat in a comfortable but slightly stiff silence waiting for the beep. When it did you knew the routine now well enough to let weems remove the stick from your mouth herself. She hummed a seemingly happy hum.

“100.2 it has gone down.” She noted and gave you and approving nod. You beamed and let out another small cough. She frowned. “Time for more meds.” She noted and handed you some more pills. You took them unassisted this time and weems handed you the puffer.

“Don’t think i didn’t notice your breathing being shallower. One hit, is all i ask.” She said watching closely as you administer the medicine into your lungs and sighed after, your airway feeling less tight and chest feeling more open.

“Good.” She said plucking the blue device from your open palm and placing back on the coffee table. She peeled the rag from your forehead and patted your arm.

“Let’s take a peek at your wrist.” She said and gently removed the ice she had been periodically placing there whilst you slept.

Your arm was resting on a pillow to elevate it and she gently examined it with soft pressure applied by her thumbs and fingers to gauge the swelling and pain. Once more she apologised when reaching any tender areas before giving a nod and replacing the ice.

“It's very much still swollen but I believe it will be ok. I'd like you to wear a sling and wrist brace to restrict movement and rest it until i deem fit.” She said and noted the bruise that was forming there. “Now, other than that are we feeling much the same?” She asked and you nodded. She hummed and stood.

“I’ve some work to attend to but need anything and I’ll be just over there.” She said pointing to her desk. You nodded and began to doze lightly as her heels returned to her desk. Not even meaning to you fell asleep to the sound of her keys typing.

It was safe to say weems was quite the nurse. When you woke the next day, you felt miles better than before and stood making your way to the bathroom. Once you had finished you made your way back to the lounge.

“What are you doing?” As voice said startling you and you felt, and arm wrap around yours to stabilise you.

“N-nothing i needed the bathroom.” You said and weems hummed and gently led you back to your makeshift bed.

“Let’s take your vitals and see what we’re dealing with today.” She said and gently deposited you back where you had been for the past 24 hours.

She took your temperature, pleased your fever had broken in the night. She examined your wrist and listened to your breathing, satisfied it had less of a wheeze than the day before. After this she stood and walked over to her desk, you watched her curiously. After a moment she found whatever, she was looking for and retuned to your side. She crouched in front of you and gently took your injured wrist. She guided it into the brace she had procured from her desk and explained how she had found one from the nurse's station earlier that morning. After adjusting it and making sure it was correctly applied to restrict movement she told you to rest some more, and you did.

Over the next few hours your improved greatly before weems dubbed you fit to do slightly more strenuous activity’s. She had Enid bring you the classwork you missed and the two of you worked side by side for the afternoon, weems typing away on her computer and you studying whatever classes you had been taking. After a while you paused spinning your pen between your fingers.

“Principle weems?” You asked and she looked up pausing.

“Yes dear?” She said.

“Thank you.” You said and she smiled.

“Anytime darling.”

MASTERLIST

[poisonlove]

DEATH | w.a

Pairing: wednesday Addams X reader

A/n: this is absolutely Shit

Despite being only 17 years old Y/N had already risked her life three times, each time because of her roommate at Nevermore Academy Wednesday Addams. That petite and mysterious girl instilled a deep fear in her, yet her presence evoked an inexplicable attraction in Y/N. It was a complex feeling where allure mingled with a constant sense of terror, creating a palpable tension between them.

Their room in Ophelia Hall was shared with Enid Sinclair, the sunny blonde girl who had welcomed Y/N from the very first day. Despite the three of them, there were only two beds: a single bed on Enid’s side and a double bed on Wednesday’s side. Y/N had tried to sleep next to Enid but the werewolf girl (not yet transformed) snored and kicked in her sleep.

After a sleepless night Y/N decided to move.

On the second night Y/N attempted to settle on the cold floor next to Enid’s bed, keeping well away from the line Wednesday had drawn to mark her side of the room. The rumors about Addams were known to everyone and Y/N preferred to avoid ending up with broken bones... or worse. But even that night she couldn’t manage to sleep.

By the third night, Y/N would remember what felt like a thrill close to death.

“Move,” Wednesday hissed, appearing like a shadow at the edge of the bed.

Her dark eyes, devoid of emotion, pierced through Y/N with an icy intensity.

“Me?” Y/N asked incredulously, with dark circles telling the tale of two sleepless nights. Wednesday fixed her with an impassive expression, barely nodding in a decisive gesture.

With trembling hands, Y/N approached the double bed. She had always thought it strange that there was such a large bed just for Wednesday. Perhaps it didn’t matter to her. Perhaps.

“Stay on your side,” Wednesday ordered, her voice sharp as a knife. “If you dare to cross the line, I assure you, you will never disturb my sleep again.” Her words were cold and precise, sliding over Y/N’s skin like ice.

Y/N’s y/c eyes briefly fell on Wednesday’s face, which, like every night had her long straight hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked surprisingly... delicate in a way Y/N had never seen before.

Y/N nodded quickly and slid into the bed trying to ignore the tension that knotted in her stomach. She rested her head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“Good night, girls,” Enid mumbled before turning off the light.

But even that night, her thoughts continued to buzz in her head. Unlike Enid, Wednesday lay still and silent. Even her breathing was barely perceptible. When Y/N glanced at her she saw that Wednesday was lying with her arms crossed over her chest, almost like a mummy.

She rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the strange tension in the air. The bed was comfortable but sleeping next to Wednesday felt like resting beside a threatening shadow. Y/N bit her lip and turned onto her side, inadvertently facing Wednesday.

Suddenly, two cold hands grabbed the collar of her pajamas and pulled her toward Wednesday’s face. The girl’s expression was cold, her eyes flashing with irritation while her loose hair framed her face.

“Stay still,” Wednesday said, each word laced with venom. Her breath faintly smelled of mint as Y/N found herself only inches from her. Y/N's gaze shifted momentarily to Wednesday’s tightly pressed lips. She nodded quickly, fear tightening her throat.

“If you move again, I assure you, you won’t open your eyes ever again,” Wednesday murmured, her tone barely a whisper but heavy with threat.

With a decisive motion she let go of Y/N and shoved her back toward her half of the bed. Y/N stayed there, wide-eyed, her heart pounding in her chest while Wednesday returned to her rigid position, arms crossed over her chest and eyes closed.

It had been terrifying. But behind that fear was something inexplicable that continued to make her heart race.

The second experience came a few weeks later.

Wednesday had had a terrible day, worsened by the fact that their friend Thing had been attacked by someone. The worry for him was palpable and Wednesday’s anger more tangible than ever. Y/N knew they were close to discovering the identity of Hyde and his master. And despite the time spent together, amid mysteries and dangers, risking their lives multiple times in the woods where Rowan had died, amidst the ruins and in the abandoned Gates house... Y/N could not overcome her fear of sharing a bed with Wednesday.

She had learned to remain still and motionless, almost holding her breath in hopes of not disturbing Wednesday’s sleep. But one night she could not avoid getting up: she needed to go to the bathroom.

She slipped out of bed silently, trying not to wake her roommate. The cold floor beneath her feet sent a shiver up her spine but it was still a relief to escape the tense atmosphere that dominated the room for a moment.

When she returned, she tried to be equally quiet. She placed a knee on the edge of the mattress to climb back in but suddenly a flash of steel brushed against her skin. A dagger embedded itself in the mattress just inches from her hand. The scream escaped her before she could hold it back, echoing in the silence of the room.

Enid, strangely, continued to sleep undisturbed.

Wednesday blinked awake, suddenly alert. Her black eyes locked onto Y/N, her face cold and impassive but her gaze intensely serious.

“What the hell was that?” Y/N gasped, her heart racing. But Wednesday didn’t seem remotely disturbed, as if her reaction was entirely normal.

“You interrupted my sleep. Don’t do it again,” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument. Not a hint of concern or apology, just that icy calm.

“I almost lost a finger!” Y/N burst out, her voice trembling with panic as she clutched her shaking hand still in disbelief at the dagger that had grazed her skin.

“I thought you were an intruder,” Wednesday replied, her jaw clenched, her sharp eyes piercing the darkness of the room. Her voice was harsh but showed no remorse.

Y/N stared at her, her eyes wide with shock. “If I had been next to you, you would have hit me!” she whispered, the fear evident in her voice. It was a chilling awareness: despite Wednesday’s dark allure being close to her always meant skirting constant danger.

Wednesday pressed her lips into a thin line, her expression one of frustration hardening her features. Her dark eyes remained fixed on Y/N, but fatigue weighed on her features: slightly swollen eyelids and deep shadows under her eyes were signs of a night that had been anything but peaceful. She ran a hand through her loose hair, a distracted, almost mechanical gesture in an attempt to shake off the weariness that burdened her shoulders.

“If I had really wanted to hit you, I wouldn’t have missed,” she finally said. Her voice was cold but there was a barely noticeable crack, a sign of how exhausted she was.

In that moment, Y/N realized the truth: Wednesday had calculated exactly where she would throw the dagger. It hadn’t been a mistake; it wasn’t a threat that slipped from her grasp. She had aimed to scare her but without causing her harm. The throw had been precise, deliberate, and she had narrowly avoided Y/N’s hand.

Y/N held her breath allowing the awareness to wash over her like a sharp blade. Behind that apparent indifference, behind the cold voice and controlled gestures, there was a particular way of showing concern. A warning, yes, but also a sign that, deep down, Wednesday didn’t truly want to harm her.

She cared about her.

The third time came the night after the chaos.

Y/N lay in bed, still aching from the injuries sustained during the confrontation. Her side was bandaged, a dull pain pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Beside her Wednesday was rigid and silent, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Despite her composed posture, her dark eyes seemed lost staring at the pale moonlight filtering through the window, casting sharp shadows across her face.

Y/N’s mind raced back to that night to how Wednesday had changed for a brief desperate moment. She had seen her cry, silent tears rolling down her face as she tried to stop the blood flowing from Y/N’s wound. The terror in her eyes when a bullet had grazed Y/N’s side. It was a fear Y/N had never seen in her before, a fear that revealed a hidden side of Wednesday—vulnerable, human.

She was terrified of losing her.

Now, however, a deafening silence reigned between them. Enid was not there; she had gone to Yoko for the night leaving the two alone in the room. Wednesday remained still, tense, as if every muscle were under control, as if she were trying to suffocate any emotion that threatened to resurface. But Y/N had come to know her well enough to catch the nuances in her glances.

An uncontrollable urge grew within Y/N, a desire to reach out to that side of Wednesday that had only been revealed for a moment. She was aware of the risk; she knew how much Wednesday hated physical contact, how her body would instinctively pull away. But that night felt different and Y/N clung to that singular possibility. With uncertain breaths, she extended her hand and brushed against Wednesday’s fingers.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

Y/N awaited the immediate withdrawal, the coldness that would creep between them. But Wednesday did not pull away. Y/N’s fingers remained intertwined with hers, the contact fragile yet present and her heart raced at the thought that perhaps, this time, Wednesday was hiding more than she wanted to show.

The moon illuminated Wednesday's face, highlighting her severe features but there was something indecipherable in her dark eyes, a vulnerability that was breaking through the cracks of that impenetrable mask. And then, with a quick and almost furious movement, as if she were fighting against herself Wednesday leaned closer to Y/N.

Her lips brushed against Y/N's, cold yet insistent, a touch that burned with contrast and emotions held back for too long. It was a kiss that had nothing sweet or delicate about it, but was raw and sincere, like an impulse that Wednesday could no longer restrain. Her lips moved with an almost desperate firmness, as if she were trying to hold onto that moment, to capture something that was slipping away from her.

Y/N felt a warmth explode in her stomach, a whirlwind that completely engulfed her. She wanted to respond to that kiss but it was as if her mind had emptied, leaving only the frantic beat of her heart.

When Wednesday pulled away, she did so with a swift gesture, almost in anger, as if she wanted to deny what she had just done. Her expression returned to being impassive, her face rigid but her cheeks were flushed, her jaw clenched as if she were holding back words she could never utter. Her breath was slightly quicker than usual, the only sign that this exchange had not left her entirely indifferent.

Y/N stared at her, wide-eyed and with still burning lips. It had been an unexpected, intense sensation.

In the end, she was dead… but yearning to repeat that kiss.

And in the silence that followed she understood that even Wednesday as much as she might want to hide it, was struggling against that new strange feeling that bound them together.

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 7)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Finally an update!

AO3 link

“Is it actually you?” Larissa’s voice sounds hoarse, her breath hitching slightly. You’re not sure if it’s due to her tears by the fountain earlier or if she is disappointed in the reveal. Her hands tremble at her sides, fingers curling as if to grasp onto something solid. Her blue eyes glisten with unspoken emotions, flickering between disbelief and cautious hope. There’s a vulnerability in her posture—a slight slouch of her shoulders, as though the weight of the moment has softened her usual poise.

Braving the unknown and attempting to control your own voice, you reply, “Of course.” You pause a moment, letting the warm, nutty aroma of the Weathervane wrap around you. “I’m a little surprised you never asked me directly. There were so many times I thought you had found me out.”

Silence.

The other woman seems puzzled. It’s the closest emotion you can track from her features—slightly furrowed brows, eyes distant and focused downward, staring into space. After a long moment waiting for a response from Larissa, or even a change in her facial expression, doubt gnaws from within your chest. Nervous explanations threaten to escape your lips, each word clawing at the back of your throat, desperate to fill the heavy silence. Your fingers begin nervously tracing the rim of your mug while your mind races, replaying every interaction that could have betrayed your secret, every glance Larissa might have misread. You think back to that day in Nevermore’s library when Larissa’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the notebook you hastily shut, its pages filled with annotations about her favorite songs. Or the time in the corridor when her lips curved into a puzzled smile as she caught you humming a tune she had once mentioned in passing. Every glance, every hesitation—it all feels like a series of missed revelations.

The weight of her unspoken thoughts press down on you, and you fight the urge to blurt out all your anxieties. You feel your cheeks warm and word vomit bubbling up to shield your own potential hurt. You take a shaky breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to spill over.

“I know you’re probably shocked… I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you or if you’re disappointed. I promise I haven’t been preying on our closeness or friendship. I admire you so much, and I didn’t want to push you away and lose our friendship by saying anything. I understand if you feel betrayed. I guess I took the coward’s way out not confessing sooner.”

As you speak, Larissa’s confused look turns into a frown. She brings her eyes up to yours, and you try not to become shy under her gaze. Thankfully, determination wins out over worry, and you hold firm when meeting Larissa’s eyes.

“When you were poisoned, I vowed to take a chance—to finally let myself get close to you.” You let in more emotion than intended while confessing the next part. “You were almost gone, Larissa. After the nightshade incident, I saw how much it affected you. How much you carry, day in and day out, to keep Nevermore running. I just… wanted to let you know someone noticed. That someone cared."

Catching you off guard, Larissa finally utters, “What about the florist?” She needs to methodically respond or bring up each point to clear her head of the mess inside.

“What do you mean what about the florist? James?”

Now it was Larissa’s turn to question herself. “I thought you two were an item.” Larissa attempts to keep her voice from sounding accusatory or too affected.

A shocked kind of relief comes over you as you process Larissa’s worry and justification. In response, you tease, “He was helping me plan the surprise for you. Or did you think I could magically summon flowers as one of my powers?”

A blush touched Larissa’s cheeks. She wasn’t used to being wrong, and certainly not in a way where others might poke fun at the circumstance. “No… I…” Larissa hesitated, her hands twisting nervously at the fabric of her gloves. Her usual poise was nowhere to be found. “I suppose I let my imagination… run away with me.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips despite the tension. “Larissa Weems? Jealous? I didn’t think you had it in you.” A smile threatens at your lips.

The blush on Larissa’s face deepens, andshe straightens her posture, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. “I am not jealous. I simply… misinterpreted the situation.”

“If you say so,” you tease gently, though your heart is pounding.

Larissa’s eyes meet yours again, and the vulnerability in them makes your teasing fade immediately. She’s still uncertain—hesitant in a way you’ve never seen before. Her voice is quieter this time as she asks, “Why me?”

Your features soften, and you reach forward over the table to take her fidgeting hand in yours. “Why not you? You’re brilliant, headstrong, compassionate, and… gods, Larissa, you’re captivating. I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. You deserve to know how extraordinary you are.” You continue to explain, “Even though I had been wanting to, Enid is actually the one who tipped the scales in favor of me confessing. She’s quite perceptive when she wants to be. Must be the gossip blog eye.”

Larissa’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. The emotions in her eyes are too numerous to name—hope, doubt, fear, and something that looks a little like longing. She’s searching your face for something, though you’re not entirely sure what.

Before you can gain clarity on her thoughts, she asks, “How did you do it?” Larissa gestures to the wall where you appeared in the Weathervane.

You knew Larissa hadn’t known about your ability to phase. You didn’t technically disclose that in your interview process for the music professor job. “Ah, well, it’s never come up in our discussions about music. It’s matter manipulation. It’s actually why I am able to create music so easily. I’m technically manipulating the sound waves in the air.”

You pause briefly, gauging her reaction before continuing. “It’s more than sound, though. I can phase through solid objects by breaking down my molecular structure and slipping between the spaces in matter. It’s… not as simple as it sounds, unfortunately. It requires immense focus and control, and if I’m not careful, I could destabilize the matter around me.”

Larissa’s brows furrow in fascination, her earlier confusion replaced by awe. She glances between your hands and your face, a flicker of wonder breaking through her usual composure. The weight of the revelation settles in her expression, a mix of admiration and disbelief. “You’ve been living with this… and using it so effortlessly,” she finally murmurs, her voice soft, almost reverent. “That’s incredible. You’ve been using this ability all along to create those… those beautiful compositions?”

You nod, smiling warmly at Larissa’s words. “Yes. Each note, each harmony, is carefully crafted by manipulating the vibrations in the air. It’s like painting with sound.”

A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “No wonder your music feels so alive. It’s a part of you.”

The sincerity in her voice sends more warmth through you, and you lower your gaze, feeling a little shy under her praise. “It’s not always easy,” you admit, unsure of how to proceed. “Sometimes, it’s overwhelming—hearing and feeling everything at once. But when I focus, it’s like… everything falls into place. Especially when I was creating the playlists for you. I wanted them to be perfect.”

Larissa’s other hand reaches out, her fingers squeezing yours. “They are perfect. And so are you.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. The sounds of espresso shots being pulled and customers chattering fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment of understanding and connection.

You sense Larissa’s curiosity growing as you two sit together for a few moments, her focus sharpening as she begins to grasp the depth of your abilities. “How far can it go?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “Your powers, I mean. What else can you do?”

You take a moment to consider your answer, glancing at your hands as if they hold the key to what you want to say. “It’s… complicated. The more I practice, the more I understand. I can amplify soundwaves to create music that resonates on an emotional level. But I’ve also used it to calm people in panicked states—to harmonize the vibrations around them and bring peace to their bodies. It’s like tuning an instrument, but on a much larger scale for people’s limbic and nervous systems.”

Larissa’s eyes widen. “You can… calm people? Affect their emotions?”

You nod slowly. “Not in a controlling way, but more like… aligning their energy. Kind of like how humming and singing can stimulate one’s vagus nerve. It’s subtle, and I’d never use it without consent. But yes, I can help others find balance.”

Her expression shifts, a mix of admiration and intrigue. “And the phasing? Could you… could you go anywhere?”

“Not quite anywhere,” you say with a small laugh. “There are limits. It’s exhausting, and certain materials make it harder—denser metals, for example. But I’m learning. It’s as much about knowing my limits as it is about pushing them.”

Larissa’s hand tightens slightly around yours, grounding you in the moment. “You’re extraordinary,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “I hope you know that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. “Coming from you, that means everything.” For the first time, you feel completely seen—not just for your powers or your music, but for everything you are. And in Larissa’s eyes, you see that same vulnerability mirrored back at you.

After a moment, Larissa exhales shakily. “This is… a lot to take in.”

You nod, not sure whether or not to remove your hand from hers. “I understand. I’m not expecting an answer or anything right now. I just… I needed you to know.”

Larissa’s leg underneath the table brushes against yours. The touch is featherlight, but it sends a jolt through you. “Thank you,” she says softly, her voice almost trembling. “For everything.”

You rub her hands gently with your thumbs and offer her a small smile. “Always.”

Looking into your eyes thoughtfully before returning to the drinks in front of you two, Larissa suggests, “Shall I get us seconds, and you can tell me all about it?”

For the first time since the conversation began, you feel hope bloom in your chest. Whatever happens next, you’ve taken the first step. And that, you think, is enough for now.

You nod, but before Larissa can move, the door to the café opens abruptly, letting in a gust of cold air. A familiar face enters—a student from Nevermore, wide-eyed and clearly distressed.

“Headmistress Weems,” the student says, their voice shaky. “We need you. Something… something strange is happening back at school.”

Larissa’s expression sharpens immediately, the warmth between you momentarily replaced by her authoritative demeanor. She glances at you, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” you say, already standing. Whatever was happening at Nevermore, you had no doubt you’d face it together.

—

The drive back to the school is tense, filled with the low hum of Larissa’s thoughts as she grips the steering wheel tightly. The student sits in the back, shifting nervously. You glance at Larissa, and she’s already deep in her role as Headmistress, her jaw set and eyes focused on the road.

As you arrive at the gates, you notice an eerie glow coming from the east wing of the campus. Students are gathered outside in small clusters, whispering nervously. The air is charged, static almost crackling as you step out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Larissa asks a nearby teacher, her voice calm but commanding.

The teacher, a young man with wide eyes that you’ve seen around the corridors, stammers, “I-it’s the greenhouse. Something’s happening inside. It’s… alive.”

“Alive?” you echo, stepping closer.

The teacher nods, visibly shaken. “The plants are… growing out of control. They’ve broken through the walls and windows. I don’t know how to stop it. All I could think to do was evacuate.”

Larissa turns to you, her expression grim and serious. “We need to contain this. Can your powers help?”

You nod, adrenaline already surging. “I’ll try.”

After ensuring other faculty secures the other entrances to the area, you and Larissa head toward the greenhouse. The closer you get, the more chaotic the scene becomes. The vines thrash wildly, scraping against the greenhouse walls with a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge. Shards of glass crunch beneath your feet, mingled with the earthy scent of disturbed soil and an unnatural, sickly-sweet aroma. You two have to take pains to not trip over bits of broken stone across the ground. The air hums with tension, punctuated by sharp cracks as the plants force their way through wooden beams. A low, guttural groan emanates from deep within, as if the greenhouse itself is alive and in pain, urging you to hurry. Vines continue to twist and writhe, stretching toward the sky as if searching for something.

“Stay behind me,” Larissa instructs, but you shake your head.

You swallow a scoff. “We’re doing this together.”

As you step inside, the air grows thick with the scent of earth and something sweet, almost cloying. The plants seem to sense your presence, their movements becoming more erratic. You close your eyes, focusing on the vibrations around you, tuning into the chaotic energy of the greenhouse.

“I’ll work on de-escalating,” you say loudly over the noise, your voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ll need your help if they fight back.”

Larissa nods, her confidence unwavering and her eyes narrowing. “Let’s do this.”

You extend your hands like a conductor, feeling the vibrations of the plants, their restless energy like a discordant symphony. Slowly, carefully, you begin to harmonize with them, sending waves of care and concern through the space. The vines hesitate, their movements slowing as if listening.

But then, a new surge of energy ripples through the greenhouse… stronger and darker than before. Something else is here, something angry.

“There’s a source,” you say urgently, your voice strained. The pulsing energy of the greenhouse thrums in your chest, a heavy, discordant beat that resonates uncomfortably. You can feel it lashing at the edges of your senses… a strange, dark rhythm that grows stronger as you focus on it. It’s as if the source itself is alive, and with each beat, it radiates anger and desperation, sending waves of hostility through the writhing plants around you. Your eyes are closed in fierce concentration, searching for the cause. “Something is controlling them.” You grimace before continuing, “It’s overwhelming,” you add while opening your eyes and glancing at Larissa, “but I can pinpoint it.”

Larissa’s eyes scan the room, and she points to a dark mass in the center of the chaos, pulsating with unnatural light. “There.”

You look to Larissa and then to the area of her gaze; you inhale a deep breath and nod—steeling yourself. Together, you and Larissa move toward the source, determined to face whatever lies ahead.

The source in the center pulses erratically, its light shifting between crimson and black while the rest of the greenhouse seems to grow darker. The ground beneath your feet trembles as the plants around it writhe with renewed aggression, as though they sense your intent. Twisted, gnarled vines guard the pulsating mass of energy, reaching out at you two with sharp thorns. The closer you get, the heavier the air becomes, thick with the tang of iron and an oppressive, unearthly heat. Larissa grips your arm briefly, her expression steely but edged with concern.

“We’re definitely close,” you murmur, the vibrations from the source nearly overwhelming your senses. You focus harder, threading calming energy into the space, though the resistance is dangerously palpable. The mass—a gnarled root-like structure entwined with glowing tendrils—reacts violently, emitting a sharp, dissonant sound that sends a jolt of pain through your temples.

“It’s protecting itself,” Larissa says urgently, stepping forward. With a swift, deliberate motion, she pulls a small silver knife from the folds of her coat, its blade etched with ancient runes. “Do you trust me?”

You peer into the piercing eyes of this woman who has slowly transfixed herself into your life, spilling into and filling all the little gaps within it. Some that you didn’t even know you wanted filled. Breathlessly, you respond, “Yes.”

Satisfied and seemingly making a mental note of something due to the expression on her face, Larissa continues, “Can you disrupt it while I try to sever the connection?”

You nod, bracing yourself as you extend your arms again. The air around the mass is chaotic, a storm of discordant vibrations that resist your attempts to harmonize them. Sweat beads on your forehead as you push harder, weaving threads of order into the cacophony. After grueling minutes that seem like hours, the vines closest to the mass begin to falter, their thrashing movements growing sluggish.

Larissa moves with precision, her knife slicing through the tendrils feeding into the core of the mass. Her jaw tightens with determination, and a flicker of something fierce glints in her eyes. Each cut seems deliberate, as though she’s channeling every ounce of her strength and focus into severing the connection. You can almost sense her resolve, a quiet intensity radiating from her. This isn’t just about the greenhouse—it’s about protecting the students, the school, and perhaps even you. She doesn’t falter, even as the mass retaliates with bursts of angry energy. Each cut elicits a shriek from the greenhouse, the sound echoing like a wounded animal. The ground shudders violently, and for a moment, you lose your balance, falling to one knee. The source’s crimson light flares, blinding and searing hot, and you feel its fury lash out at you.

“Hold on!” Larissa calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her final strike severs the last connection, and the mass collapses inward with a deafening roar, its light extinguished. The vines that had crawled around you during the encounter go limp, their aggressive energy dissipating into silence.

You collapse back, breathless and trembling, as the oppressive weight in the air begins to lift. The tension that had wrapped around your chest like a vise slowly eases, leaving you lightheaded but strangely calm. Your fingers dig briefly into the cool soil beneath you, grounding yourself against the lingering tremors in your body. Each inhale feels sharper, cleaner, as though the air has been renewed. Relief washes over you in waves, mingled with an almost surreal disbelief that it’s over as quickly as it began. Larissa kneels beside you, her face a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her hand coming to lightly rest on the side of your face, brushing tenderly against your jaw.

You nod weakly, managing a small smile. “We did it.”

The two of you sit in the aftermath, the greenhouse eerily still. Outside, the muffled sounds of students and faculty stir as the danger subsides. You exchange a glance with Larissa, and for a moment, the world feels suspended once more—this time, in quiet triumph.

As the silence settles in the greenhouse, your gaze drifts back to the crumpled remains of the pulsating mass. The memory of its crimson and black glow lingers in your mind, vivid and haunting. What was it? You reach out instinctively with your senses, searching for any lingering traces of its energy, but there’s nothing—just an empty void where its chaotic presence once thrived.

“Do you think it’s truly gone?” you ask Larissa, your voice barely above a whisper.

She follows your line of sight, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice heavy with thought. “But whatever it was, it felt… deliberate. As though it had a purpose.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the way the mass seemed to lash out, not just in anger, but in defiance. The way the violent energy seemed to resist every attempt to subdue it. “It wasn’t just growing wildly,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “It was looking for something.”

Larissa looks at you sharply, her brows knitting together. “Looking for what, exactly?”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t know, but it didn’t feel random. That energy, it was… searching. Reaching.” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. “Almost like it was trying to connect.”

Larissa’s gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing in thought. For another long moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the ruined greenhouse surrounding you, punctuated only by the occasional creak of broken glass and rubble settling. Finally, Larissa rises, brushing dirt from her coat with a slow, deliberate motion.

“If it was searching,” she says quietly, “we need to find out what it wanted—and why it was here.” Her expression is unreadable.

You nod again in agreement, though unease still coils tightly in your chest. Whatever answers the mass held, you know they won’t come easily. “Do you think it’s connected to the school? Or something outside of it?” you ask, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Larissa tilts her head slightly, considering. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t natural. And the fact that it was here, on Nevermore grounds…” She trails off, her jaw tightening. “We can’t ignore it.”

The weight of her words settles heavily over you. The questions that the mass of tendrils leaves behind feel as tangled and complex as the vines it controlled. One thing is certain: the danger isn’t over.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl, @enchantressb, @machi-avelli, @alder-saan.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates or have your tag taken off for future posts. :)

[daydream-cement]

Laundry Service (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Larissa helps you out.

Author's Note: Short smut (600 words). This was originally about one of my oc's, but I couldn't resist adding the Headmistress in instead.

You stretched down into the washing machine. You couldn’t believe how hard it was to get to the bottom. You always felt as if you were average height, but as your fingers barely reached the last few socks at the bottom. 

When Larissa passed by the laundry room, she had to do a double take at the sight of you bent over into the washing machine. You were in your lazy Sunday clothes - tight leggings that showed off every curve and an oversized sweater that shifted out of place to expose your midriff. Your feet dangled off the ground as you struggled to snatch up all of the little pieces of laundry alluding you at the bottom of the washer. 

Larissa couldn’t resist coming up behind you. Her hands slowly moved to grip your waist, giving your body a light squeeze.

At first you jolted in surprise, but you soon realized it was Larissa from the familiarity of her hands on your skin, “Oh, honey! Can you help me?”

“Happy too.” Larissa cooed, curling her fingers around the band of your leggings and underwear. 

The shapeshifter was often reserved in her sexual pursuits of you, but that reservation was nowhere to be seen as she dropped to her knees, pulling your pants down with her.

You gasped, hands gripping the edge of the washing machine. Your cheeks flushed red as you exclaimed, “Rissa!”

“I'm helping…” Larissa husked as her hands palmed your ass for a moment before shifting her hands to cup it gently. She used the leverage of her hand placement to spread your thighs to access your cunt. 

You sucked in a breath when you felt the shapeshifter plunge her tongue into your cunt. 

Larissa was eating you with a starving fervor that had you mewling and humming in response. The rim of the washing machine was digging into your abdomen, but that was feeling like far less of a priority at the moment. 

In the few moments Larissa would come up for air from your cunt, she was gasping phrases of adoration - ‘I love you’, ‘You’re perfect’, and ‘You taste incredible’ were repeated over and over.

You couldn’t last long. Between the setting, the dominance, and and the sensation, all of the elements combined in a way that had you gushing on Larissa’s chin.

When the shapeshifter took to sucking on your clit, you had no ability to hold back any longer. You came with a cry, but just because you came didn’t mean the shapeshifter was about to stop. 

Larissa lapped at your cum until she was sure she had cleaned you up enough. 

When Rissa was satisfied, she pushed herself to stand, pulling your pants back up with her. She wiped her face and with a strong arm around your middle, Larissa pulled you from the washing machine and manhandled you into a position where she could seat you on the dryer. 

Larissa then moved away from your dazed form, leaning into the washing machine and yanking out the remaining laundry with a single hand. The shapeshifter tossed the few socks into the nearby laundry basket you had been using before turning her attention back on you, “I hope that helped, darling.”

Larissa turned on her heels, leaving you wide eyed, “Wha- Rissa?”

“If you need anything else, let me know.” Larissa called from the hallway.

“Rissa-“ You called, jumping down from the dryer, cut off by tripping over the basket of damp laundry. You were scrambling as you picked up the laundry from the floor and shoved it in the dryer, continuing to call Larissa’s name as you turned on the dryer and chased your wife down the hall.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse, @teashock , @enchantressb , @alex-nyx , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan, @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems , @sicklygrlsicklygrl , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @dumbasslesbi , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @h-doodles , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @kimiinou, @hiiamkatana, @mountain-bikingwitch, @willowshadenox, @aemilia19, @mommyslittlebaby, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08

[v3nusxsky]

Can you write Morticia x Larissa x Reader where reader (0-3) (also a shapeshifter like Larissa and shifts when she regresses) is their wife/little and when reader regresses they take her to a pumpkin patch and come home and carve the pumpkin and just loads of fluff and cuteness, please?

Pumpkins day out

*authors note~ AND IM BACKKKKKK! hey y’all okay so this is small intro to being back activly posting now I feel my life is in somewhat order and let me tell you I’ve missed you guys sm. I’ve read every comment ask and dm of kind words and I’m so grateful for y’all being so patient with me! Let’s get it started, imma tweak this one ever so slightly but I just wanna say I love when you guys tell me what you want me to write next as it helps keep me focused and insuring you guys are getting content you want :)*

Trigger warnings~ Agere? Little fem shapeshifter r, mommy morticia, momma Larissa (everything that occurs has been spoken about when r is in her age appropriate head space)

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

(Banner to be added)

Distressed muffled whimpers carried themselves into the principals office alongside the pitter patter of tiny feet indicating your presence was imminent. The two occupants being your wives or rather care givers in this head space. It’s not uncommon for the two elder women to wake before you especially after your late night antics that resulted in you slipping off to sleep in sub space. It was almost routine for you to wake up in little space. Being a shifter allowed your body to lean into your headspace meaning they were almost always greeted by a darling little girl ranging from infant to toddler ages.

Like clockwork your little body came barrelling in through the mahogany doorway and straight into your mommy’s awaiting arms. Her long flowy onyx dress providing the perfect sensory input to help calm your little state. Her words dripping in smooth silk as she stood to full height swaying you gently in her arms as Larissa watched on with an adoring smile. Her two loves looking ever so naturally them always brought her a sense of peace she could never recreate no matter how much she tried.

The fall always created a beautiful almost picturesque landscape of the Nevermore grounds at this time of year. The chill of autumn air being a welcomed change from the blazing heat as Augusts final goodbye. Students of Nevermore spending their time acclimatising to dorm life, new schedules and a whole new academic year. Far too busy to notice what wholesome activities were occurring in the office.

“Momma” you sniffed effortlessly breaking the blonde out of her own thoughts. “Yes little pumpkin” she whispered before attacking your cheeks with sweet kisses. Your infectious giggles causing Tish to let a small smile grace her lips as she found the desired outfit for the day. “Mommy momma me go gets jack-o’-lantern from patch” your excitement practically vibrating from your small frame. “Oh is that so little love? It can’t be that time already can it?” She pretended to ponder, searching her very organised calendar for your initials scrawled in a beautiful heart shape.

“Mommy” you whimpered as Larissa still continued to not see what was so clearly labelled causing the raven haired woman to tut in response, “don’t tease my sweet girl Larissa darling” before easily scooping you up and giving the order to get ready for your yearly traditions. “Momma was teasing baby, we are going to find our pumpkins don’t you worry little pumpkin” Tish reassured before loudly whispering about visiting the weathervane without the blonde if she wanted to tease you.

Unsurprisingly, the whole drive you sleepily clung to morticia as Larissa drove you all to the best pumpkin patch around Jericho. Only when the car stopped did your excitement hit you once again full force. All the pretty colours and leaves being scattered all over the ground, all calling out for you to come and jump around in. “Mommy” you whined as you attempted to wriggle out of the seatbelt by yourself with no success. “Momma” you pouted causing Larissa to chuckle and help get you out of the car where you happily held both their hands. Little giggles filled the air as you crunched the leaves under your little boots, eyes gleaming with pure joy. Both women lost count of how many times you’d run, jump and kick the crunchy fall leaves. Each time a squeal of pure joy and excitement left your little body. It almost broke their hearts to have to refocus your adorable self on the task at hand.

Naturally you had managed to burn yourself out of energy after all the running, jumping, kicking and arguing about which pumpkin you all needed to get. The task of selecting the biggest pumpkin the patch had to offer had taken over two hours with more playful arguments and moments where you’d ran after a falling leaf insisting on catching it for Larissa and Mortica . Now you ended up snuggled into Morticia’s chest being carried to the car with tiny fists rubbing at your eyes as larissa hauled your chosen one to the car. By now the chilled air had Larissa wanting to frequent her favourite place besides Jericho. All the way to the weathervane you snoozed and the two women bantered back and forth about how wrong they were years ago. Larissa had never managed to lose the nickname of stately sequoia tree, morticia remaining the lumberjack and you their precious pumpkin. Hot chocolates secured the women had some how managed to succeed in moving you and the pumpkin into Larissa’s office before arranging the supplies you’d need when you awoke.

Your obsession recently had been black cats so it was easy for the women to find a cute yet Halloween appropriate stencil for you to use. Together they helped you carve and gut the pumpkin while laughing and loving on you. Your little heart filled with a type of joy that you never had as a child. The atmosphere and love was not something you’d had the pleasure to experience until them either. “Fanks best day ever momma mommy I wuvs you” you mumbled as all three of you admired the work of art.

[aelius29]

The Rain

It's a one shot.

Pairings: Fem reader x Wednesday Addams

A/n: it's my first time to wrote it in here. I hope you guys like it. ✨💕

And my friend help me fixing my grammar.. 😭😂

Her name @phantomverse707 . She wrote a story a h.p. fan fiction as well. I hope you guys support her. ✨🖋️

Y/n P.O.V.

We stood together, sheltered under Wednesday’s black umbrella. The soft patter of rain droplets against the fabric filled the air as I gazed out at the rain, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.

Wednesday stood silently beside me, her expression stoic as always. I could sense her eyes on me, sharp and observant, aware of my appreciation for the rain.

“You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with rain,” Wednesday noted, her voice flat, with just a hint of curiosity beneath her monotone.

I nodded, my gaze still fixed on the falling raindrops. “Yeah, I like it. It’s soothing.”

Wednesday tilted her head slightly, considering my words. “There is something strangely satisfying about the rain’s capacity to drown out the noise of humanity."

I smiled at her, surprised by her insight. “Exactly. It’s like the world just… stops. For a moment, the rain washes away all the worries and stress of the world."

Wednesday’s eyes flickered with the slightest hint of agreement. “It does have a certain tranquility. Like the prelude to a funeral.”

Without warning, I sprinted out into the rain, laughing as I let the cold drops hit my face.

“Wednesday!” I called, grinning as I spun around. “Come on, join me!”

Wednesday’s expression remained stony, though there was a flicker of something akin to annoyance—or maybe intrigue—beneath her dark eyes.

“You want me to engage in this frivolous display of joy?” she asked, her tone laced with a heavy dose of skepticism.

I nodded, my hair already soaked. “Yeah! It’s fun, you know. Live a little.”

Wednesday stared at me, visibly torn between disdain and something less familiar. Finally, she let out a resigned sigh, setting the umbrella aside. “Very well. But don't expect me to enjoy this.”

I watched, delighted, as she stepped into the rain. Her dark hair quickly became wet, framing her pale face in sharp lines. She looked almost ethereal, like a gothic painting come to life.

“You’re actually doing it,” I said, still amazed she’d joined me.

“I’m merely proving a point,” she muttered, trying—and failing—to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching upward.

We ran through the rain, hand in hand. Her grip was cold, firm, and oddly comforting. The rain poured down around us, soaking us to the bone. I glanced at Wednesday, her eyes glinting with something that almost resembled amusement.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” I laughed, feeling more alive than I had in ages.

Wednesday huffed, her attempt at a smile barely visible. “It’s… tolerable.” Her voice was quieter, almost lost in the sound of the rain.

I released her hand and spun around, letting the puddles splash up against my legs as I danced. I glanced back at Wednesday, half-expecting her to roll her eyes, but instead, she watched with something like fascination.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was no venom in her words, just a dry observation.

I laughed, unbothered. “Yeah, but who says that’s a bad thing?”

For a moment, she stood there, just watching me, as if seeing me clearly for the first time. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe even admiration, though she would never admit it.

Wednesday P.O.V.

Watching Y/N dance in the rain, utterly unrestrained and blissfully unaware of how foolish she looked, stirred something within me. It was an unfamiliar sensation, irritatingly close to… admiration.

She was always so composed, so confident. But here, she was raw, joyful, and unabashedly herself. It was maddening and captivating all at once. I couldn’t look away.

When she reached out to me, her hand dripping with rain, I hesitated. I was not one for touchy displays of affection, but there was something disarming about her expression.

Reluctantly, I took her hand again, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, a stark contrast to the cold rain. She pulled me closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Dance with me.”

I scowled, resisting the pull. “I don’t dance,” I stated flatly.

“You don’t have to know how,” she replied, her tone annoyingly cheerful. “Just move.”

I let her lead me, feeling awkward and exposed. My limbs felt heavy, resistant to the idea of surrendering to something so… whimsical. But as we moved together, my body loosened, if only slightly. It was uncharted territory—dancing, in the rain, with someone who made me feel less like a shadow and more like a person.

And despite myself, I didn’t hate it. In fact, it was almost... enjoyable. I, Wednesday Addams, was enjoying myself. Absurd.

Y/N smiled at me, her laughter blending with the sound of the rain. “We’ll have to do this again. Same time, next storm.”

I gave her my best stoic glare, but I could feel the corners of my mouth betraying me with the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t get any ideas,” I grumbled, though the words lacked their usual bite.

She chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, no ideas at all,” she said with feigned innocence, her tone dripping with false sincerity.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help the flutter of anticipation that her words stirred. The idea of doing this again, of sharing these stolen moments, didn’t seem as intolerable as it should have.

The End ....

A/n: thank you for reading ✨🍂

Edit: I'm sorry if i-edit some of the scenes if u notice. 😭

[weemsfreak]

𓉸

Happy October, loves! In honour of my favourite time of year, here is a short spooky Larissa Weems x f!reader where Laurel Gates lives on...but as does Larissa.

It is based around a quote from the 1991 Addams family, and follows Season 1 of Wednesday where Joseph Crackstone is no longer. Season 2 calls for more mystery and gore? I say add Larissa's revenge. ~3.6k words

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"So I was thinking, since last Outreach day ended in disaster with the statue and all, perhaps we could do without an unveiling. Perhaps we could plan something sincere, something that may bring normies and outcasts together in a…"

You picked up your Weathervane hot chocolate, taking a sip.

"Darling?"

Recently, you have been feeling uneasy, if that was the correct word for it.

Uneasy when out in the town of Jericho, but also within the walls of Nevermore.

"Yoo-hoo? Darling?"

Last outreach day had been a disaster, and there had been numerous disasters that followed.

Still, she insisted on organizing another.

Why you agreed to help? You could never wrap your head around it.

You hoped November would never come.

Your gaze shot to blue as a hand softly landed on yours.

"What do you think?"

Blinking, you looked out the window, and then around the coffee shop.

"I think, um- maybe we shouldn't have an Outreach day this year, Larissa."

Her smile dropped to a frown, confusion evident on her face.

"Why not?"

You shook your head. You'd never want to disappoint her, but you had a feeling, a horrible feeling; a feeling of dread and death.

You only had this feeling few times before,

but you weren't about to tell her that.

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The new mayor of the town was…nice.

He was always smiling.

He was always helpful.

He was always weary.

Him, along with the students and residents of Jericho, were weary of the outcasts; as if they hadn't been before.

It was worse now, due to that night. Which was ironic, considering it wasn't the outcasts who were responsible.

Still, Larissa insisted on getting to know the new mayor, insisted on forming a cooperation with him.

He had rejected the idea of a cooperation.

He had rejected the idea of outcast and normie relations.

He had rejected the idea of an Outreach day; until he agreed.

You found yourself in the town, picking something up from the mayors office to deliver to the oh so busy Principal Weems.

As you walked down the decorated streets eager to return to Nevermore, you caught sight of red hair entering an alley way.

Crossing the road and making your way past Uriah's heap, you were about to turn down the alley when a boy brushed past, making you stumble back.

He walked slowly down the sidewalk, as if he had nowhere to be, yet determined to be somewhere at the same time.

Something within you knew that he was...familiar.

Trailing behind, you followed to the town square, to the church, and then, he stood.

Confused, you hid behind a close building, peeking around the corner.

Your brows furrowed as you realized that he seemed just as confused as you were, until he gazed directly at you and you faltered.

His face was crazed, he was foaming at the mouth. He looked sweaty and wild, uncontrollable.

Your heart skipped a beat as you concluded that he was standing exactly where the statue of Joseph Crackstone had stood last outreach day, and he gave you a wide smile.

Hiding around the corner of the building again, you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply.

Jericho was no longer the town that you knew; although it was the town that it always had been.

Secretive, unaccepting, and murderous.

Peeking around the corner once more, you were relieved to find nobody staring back at you.

As you high tailed it for Nevermore, you couldn't help but think few things:

One - Larissa could NOT hold an Outreach day.

Two - You were beginning to believe that you were losing your mind; not nearly as fun as you had anticipated.

And Three - That boy you saw, was dead.

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Pushing open the doors to her office, you walked straight up to her desk.

"How was your trip into town?"

You let the papers fall onto her desk, trying not to lose your composure.

"We cannot hold an Outreach day."

With the tilt of her head and twitch of her lip, she furrowed her brows.

"You keep saying this, yet you're helping me plan it."

Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to convince her.

"I just, I have a very bad feeling, and I can't-I can't-"

Your best right now was not very good, at all.

Tears fell as you thought about why you shouldn't, why you couldn't.

Long legs carried the woman around her desk as she reached for you, sitting you on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"You can't what, love?"

She would never understand, because she wasn't there to witness it.

She wasn't there to see the fire, blazing in front of her as the dead came back for the living.

She wasn't there to see her students in danger, eyes wide as they feared for their lives.

She wasn't there to see how helpless the outcasts felt, how helpless they were; how helpless you were.

She wasn't there to see Joseph Crackstone and Laurel Gates before her very eyes.

She wasn’t there…

She wasn't there because,

"You almost died, Larissa."

Your words swirled around in the air, heard but not seen.

"But I didn't, and I haven't a clue what this has to do with Outreach day."

Closing your eyes, visions of people came back to you, visions of the dead.

Tears fell from your eyes in frustration, wishing that you could make her understand.

She saw Nevermore in shambles, she had built it back up.

She saw the fear of the aftermath, she had built it back up.

She saw her life flash before her eyes, and so had you.

"It’s just too soon. Students of Jericho high will not stand beside our students, people of Jericho will not stand beside us, and…"

And I will not stand beside you.

That was a lie.

You let your head fall into your hands as you let out a sob.

She gripped your body with all her strength and pulled you to her chest.

"The events of that night are still fresh in your mind, darling" she whispered.

"Joseph Crackstone is gone, we have nothing to fear."

Gripping onto her shoulders, you couldn't help but have fear.

She had almost lost the school.

You had almost lost her.

And you had seen Garrett Gates today,

but you weren't about to tell her that.

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"Ah Nevermore, we love you so."

Gomez and Morticia Addams sat in front of her desk, Gomez kissing his wife's hand as they did.

"Larissa, it is so wonderful to see you thriving. I don't know what we would've done if you had left us."

Larissa quirked a brow at Morticia's words, looking her up and down.

"Perhaps you would've held a party?" she quipped.

Morticia snickered as she looked to Gomez, "There's the sense of humour that I always adored."

Larissa smirked their way, and silence overtook them as they stared at one another.

"But seriously, we feel awful for what happened."

"The Gates family, all dead" Gomez said.

"Poor Laurel, I can’t help but feel as though we hold some responsibility" Morticia added.

Larissa looked between the two with disdain, but she did feel bad.

"Well, it's done with now, yes?"

She wished they would just get to the matter of Wednesday Addams, yet again.

"Joseph Crackstone shall suffer irreparable consequences. They all shall."

Larissa couldn't help but think that death was enough.

"For what they did to our ancestors? Death will never be enough" Gomez added.

Larissa nodded, clasping her hands together on her desk.

"Well, I believe that we must put the past behind us, and thrive for a better future."

She watched as Morticia stood, approached her, and placed cold hands onto hers, lowering her voice.

"Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc. We gladly feast on those who would subdue us."

Blue eyes met brown as Larissa felt a cold spell cast around her.

Morticia waited a moment, then raised a brow as she released her hands from Larissa's warmth.

"Not just pretty words."

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You accompanied Larissa to Pilgrim world, the new mayor insisted that she attend a pre Halloween 'Sinister Soirée' that he was holding.

She had agreed in hopes of pleasing the mayor, in hopes of getting closer to him for the better of Nevermore.

You knew what had happened 400 years ago, well, to an extent; and so did she.

You couldn't help but despise Jericho in some way, due to its brutal history.

Centuries ago, the pilgrims had hunted and executed those they deemed outcasts: anyone who didn’t fit their strict vision of purity.

You agreed that things weren't always black and white, there were shades of grey.

You agreed that the future didn't have to reflect the past.

But sometimes, you cannot let go of what happened, sometimes you cannot forgive and forget.

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here."

Larissa's grip tightened around yours as you made your way through the entrance.

You thought about her, and how she thrived for the better of Nevermore, the better of outcasts; you admired that.

But all the same, you were conflicted.

How had she been to hell and back, knowing of the injustice, experiencing it first hand; yet keeping the same outlook.

She knew deep down that the outcasts weren't safe.

She knew deep down that she wasn't safe.

"We can leave, Larissa."

She peered down at you through cold lashes as the new mayor approached.

"Principal Weems, so good to see you."

Larissa clasped her hands together in that innocent way that you knew so well.

It was odd, to see her as not Principal Weems, not Larissa, but dressed up in a costume so ethereal and otherworldly, like a ghost from a forgotten era.

"Mayor Winslow, thank you for hosting tonight. Such a fun event!"

You rolled your eyes as you adjusted your outfit, draped in layers of shadows.

"Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy the haunted crypt walk, and perhaps try some fudge."

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Strolling down the Cobblestone streets of Pilgrim world, you couldn't help but feel uneasy, so deeply unsettled.

Maybe Larissa should've brought someone who, specifically, had any ability besides the ability to see the dead. Alas, that thought made you jealous.

You had avoided Pilgrim world for so long, and everything in Jericho the like.

Already feeling the cold presence of the dead, it lingered in the air, watching from the shadows of the ancient trees.

You needed a distraction, and you needed it now.

"Oh, the tavern! Can we go in?"

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You entered the dimly lit tavern, spotting one open table as you sat across from the Principal.

"Pilgrims of the night, what can I get for you?" A voice thick with faux historical enthusiasm.

Your gaze lifted from the pale woman to…a religious fanatic.

The very symbol of zealotry and hatred, Joseph Crackstone himself.

Your eyes widened, hands moving quickly to grip the woman's arm across from you.

Looking down at you, she took your hand in hers, rubbing her thumbs over it soothingly.

"We're alright, love."

Right. It wasn't really him, because Larissa could see him too.

"We're hardly Pilgrims," you managed, gesturing vaguely at yourself.

Larissa eyed you down, a smirk appearing on her face. "No, we certainly aren't" she said, turning her attention to the waiter.

You took in the ambiance of Pilgrim world, shooting her a look as you were, after a short time, fed up with the pilgrim's that surrounded you; those alive and dead.

"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote and entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide."

The waiter then reached your table and set down the drinks, his grin faltering as he raised an eyebrow.

"Who you calling stupid?"

You held his gaze, unflinching, "If the buckled shoe fits."

The principal chuckled softly, shaking her head as she lifted her drink.

"Do behave, darling," she teased, her eyes hinting at your shared disdain for the charade around you.

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"Line up for the haunted crypt walk!"

You moved outside and stood in line, dragging Larissa with you hand in hand.

Walking through the partially lit up streets, you tried to enjoy your time envisioning the good old days.

Well, they were not good, you supposed; but they were old.

As you strolled, you tried your hardest to forget about your ability, but your ability would never forget about you.

"And here is the old barn, a place where they stored crops, grain, and livestock."

You looked to the right to find the old barn standing strong.

"Unfortunately, it was set ablaze one night containing the livestock, but it has been rebuilt since. Pilgrim world has remarkably been rebuilt to 30% of it's original structure."

Larissa listened to the haunted walk tour guide, before gazing down at your apprehensive, perhaps terrified demeanour.

The barn transformed to a burnt structure, only the frame, floor, and partial walls remaining.

Out of nowhere it was up in flames; hay, crops, animals, and people littered the floor.

The animals looked at you with fear, the smoke clouded your vision, and Larissa, Larissa watched you with tears in her eyes.

You gasped as you kneeled down in front of her.

"There is no time, child."

Taking her hands into yours, you attempted to help her up.

"Leave me, save yourself. He's chained us all to the floor."

People where chained to the floor, outcasts were chained to the floor; with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

You pulled with all of your force at the chains before attempting to break them from her wrists.

"I shant leave without you."

Your gaze focused on hers, but it wasn't what you knew.

Her accent filled your ears, but it was old.

Her hair flowed freely, her clothing in tatters.

She had the same sad eyes, but they didn't glisten, they didn't speak to you in the same way.

"Run, avenge us. Find the others and save our future."

You stood as she disappeared from your vision, backing away slowly.

"You are our only hope."

Coughing, you attempted to wave away the smoke as the barn in front of you reverted back to it's present state.

You had thought that the meeting house was the only place where outcasts were burned; of course that wasn't enough.

Turning in fright, you looked for those on the haunted crypt walk, met with only the dark of the night.

Everyone was gone, including Larissa.

"Larissa?"

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Strolling throughout the streets alone, you couldn't help but think about how lonely it would've been.

But the reality was, you weren't alone.

You could see only them; pale figures standing just beyond the veil of mist, their faces gaunt, hollow-eyed, staring.

They weren’t just ghosts. These were the spirits of pilgrims and outcasts, the ones who had been hunted, burned, and hanged for their abilities.

They were you, and you were them.

Making your way past the ol' haberdashery and fudge shop, you found an old house, one you hoped would be free of the dead and horror.

Entering through the front door, you passed through the keeping room, until you found an open passageway.

It was dark, far too dark for you to see anything; besides the figure of a tall white haired woman.

“Larissa!” you shouted in fear and relief.

You saw her, Larissa, standing in the darkness of a dimly candlelit room, her back turned.

Relief flooded your veins.

“Larissa, thank God” you breathed, running toward her.

“What happened?"

As you neared, something stopped you cold.

Larissa’s body was still, too still; you froze.

The figure turned slowly, and your blood ran empty.

It wore Larissa’s face, her exact face, but her hopeful eyes were wrong.

They were hollow, dead. Her smile was cruel, a twisted mockery of Larissa’s usual painted grin.

“You're just in time for the feast,” the figure said, its voice a low rasp.

You stumbled back, this was not Larissa.

It was something else, something ancient, and it had stolen her form.

“Where is she?” you demanded, voice shaking.

The figure smiled wider. “She is with us now. She is where she belongs.”

Your pulse quickened, you couldn’t lose Larissa again. Not to this place, not to whatever dark force lingered here.

The figure’s form began to shimmer, its edges blurring, and in an instant, it transformed; morphing into the twisted face of an old woman, a pilgrim, her eyes burning with malice.

“You outcasts were always ours” she hissed. “And tonight, we feast.”

The darkness suddenly lit up, your view of pilgrims evident as you watched them feast.

An old dinner table, wood and bone carved forks and knives.

They were eating meat; they were eating outcasts.

“I can see you” you whispered, hoping to keep your voice steady. “I see all of you.”

The dead paused, their hands retreating.

“You think you can subdue us?!”

It was loud, fueled by your anger, you could feel it radiating from the outcasts, radiating from the loss of Larissa.

“You think you can keep us chained here?”

The pilgrim spirit hissed at you, her face contorting with fury.

“You are nothing but prey.”

Your lips twisted into a sinister smile as you backed away.

“We gladly feast upon those who would subdue us.”

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You awoke outside, feeling the cold hands of the dead that had brushed against your skin.

They pulled you, drug you toward the church.

Your head pounding from the insufferable onslaught, you couldn't remember exactly how or why you had ended up here.

Muffled screams caught your attention as you stumbled toward ancient wood doors.

The church stood as a grim reminder of the village’s past, its stone walls blackened by centuries of dark history.

"Let me out of here!"

There was banging from the inside, but the doors wouldn’t budge.

“Larissa?” you shouted, fear clutching at you.

You would recognize her voice anywhere, even in panic, even when she sounded ghostly.

"Please help" she pleaded, tugging at the doors.

Even in times like these, you couldn't find a way.

You couldn't find a rock, you couldn't find a spell, you were no professional at teleportation; and you learned the meaning of dread.

Even the outcasts couldn't face the fury of those who lived to wrong them.

As you hauled on the wooden doors in hopes of freeing Larissa, they suddenly flew open and sent you back to the ground.

You quickly ran inside, watching in terror as Larissa was summoned; gliding helplessly across the floor and up to the altar of the church.

“I’ve been waiting for you” a voice, low yet warm.

“You are of my blood, and the time has come.”

Larissa was still and wide eyed, held in place as she spoke nervously.

"I can hear you, but I cannot see."

You took a breath, watching as Larissa, the version of her you had earlier spoken to in the old barn, moved until she was inches before the principal.

You swallowed deeply and whispered. "She's right in front of you, Larissa. She looks like you, perhaps your ancestor."

Larissa’s eyes darkened, her body tensing as if something had woken inside her.

She spoke in a way that you have never learned before; she was timid, confused.

“Time for what?” she asked, though you could hear the answer in the dead woman’s silence.

“Revenge,” her ancestor whispered.

Suddenly, the doors of the church slammed shut.

You could feel the dead rising all around. The spirits of the outcasts, those who had been wronged were no longer content to stay in the shadows. They wanted justice, and they had waited long enough.

"Joseph Crackstone may be gone, but Laurel Gates lives on."

Larissa took a shallow breath, retrieving the ability to close her eyes.

"I believe in a better future for outcasts. I'm working to bring outcasts and normies together in…in harmony."

You panicked as she started choking out her words, her breath becoming less as she spoke.

As you placed a hand in hers, her ancestor glided away as a disappointed mother would from her child; just to be peering down at her within a second.

She cupped her cheek with her dead hand, and you wondered if Larissa could feel it.

"It is up to you, my child, but this is a warning. They do not rest, they killed us all, and they now come for you."

Larissa's ancestor faded into the ether, dissolving into nothingness as Larissa herself began to rise, lifted slowly and steadily towards the towering ceiling of the ancient church.

You felt panic welling up inside as you gripped her hand tightly, but it was no use.

Fingers slipped away from hers, powerless to stop her from being pulled higher and higher into the eerie shadows above.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Larissa suspended midair, her eyes wide with fear as a faint whisper sounded.

"Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc."

Suddenly, as if responding to some unseen command, Larissa was hurled back down to the stone floor and the heavy wooden doors of the church flew open.

You rushed to the woman's side as she sat up in shock.

Kneeling, you watched the weight of the revelation settle over her like a cold fog.

"Laurel Gates lives on."

You placed a hand on her shoulder, gazing into blue as she turned to look at you.

Your voice was soft, and you prayed that she finally understood.

"The normies will reject outcasts, a rift sealed by fate itself. Eternal, unyielding, haunting us with the certainty that acceptance will remain beyond our grasp, evermore."

You cupped her cheek as tears threatened to fall. "We gladly feast."

Larissa’s lips pursed, her gaze narrowing as she stood and pulled you up with her.

She took your hands firmly, her eyes gleaming with a dark, unspoken truth.

"And Laurel," she said commanding, her voice full of dangerous promise as a smile played on her lips, "is just in time for the feast."

[starless-nightz]

I SWEAR I NEED MORE SCHOOL BUS GRAVEYARD OR NEVERMORE REQUESTS BRO

[brienneoftarth1989]

If we ever meet again

Larissa Weems x fem reader

Summary: growing up you were a student at Nevermore. You had a massive crush on your headmistress but due to your age and the fact you were a student meant you couldn’t do anything about it. 12 years later you got a job at the academy you attended as a child praying that the woman you had feelings for was still there.

Warnings: None

Requests open

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Growing up you loved your time at Nevermore. You loved your friends, your classes but most of all you loved spending time with your Principal Larissa Weems.

It was safe to say you had a bit of a harmless crush on Larissa but obviously being a young student, there wasn’t much you could do about it other than admire her from afar. When you were a student there you were sixteen which meant she was about twenty-eight years old.

Did it bother you that there was a twelve year age gap between you? No it did not. You did try to spend as much time around Larissa as you could, for example you would help around her office and complete tasks for her.

To be honest you didn’t always want to do everything she asked but you just enjoyed the company around her. Over the next few years you spent as much time with Larissa as you could considering you were a student and she was your principal.

However the day you left Nevermore was the most heartbreaking day of your life. Saying goodbye to not only your classmates but Larissa was such a hard thing to do. You didn’t want them to know you were hurting down inside so you tried your best to disguise it.

I think Larissa could tell you were quite upset to leave as she told you before you left that it was never really going to be goodbye forever. You did always wonder what she meant by that considering you felt like you would never be returning to Nevermore.

However there was one thing that you were sure of and that was you wanted to get into teaching. After you left Nevermore you went straight to university to get your teaching degree and then getting a degree in botanical science. That subject always did have a way with you back at Nevermore.

You spent about 6 years at university and once you were finished you decided to go travelling for at least a year as it was something you always wanted to do but never got the chance. When you came back you found a small teaching job at one of the schools but it wasn’t teaching what you specialised in. However you needed a job.

In the meantime you did keep an eye out on the Nevermore school website to see if any job applications came about. However there wasn’t much going at all. That wasn’t going to stop you from finally getting a job at the school you grew up in.

After another 5 years and a number of different teaching jobs you finally decided to check to see if Nevermore had any teaching jobs for the upcoming school year. As you were scrolling through you saw one for a botanical science teacher. This was just your luck.

You spent that evening touching up your CV before applying to the job. All you had to do now was wait for a response. That week after a bit of waiting and hoping for a response was the longest week that has ever seemed to have existed.

You were at home scrolling through your phone when an email notification popped up. You were quick to open it to see that you had been selected for an interview with the headmistress. The email had been sent by the school’s office and it didn’t state who the headmistress even was.

Was principal Weems still in charge or was someone else running the school now? I guess there was only one way to find out. You accepted the interview and they later emailed you the details of your upcoming interview.

You had less than a week to prepare yourself for it. You made yourself look up all the relevant information and jotted down notes that you thought would be relevant to your interview. Now all you had to do was face the interview itself.

The day of your interview went great. You got dressed into a smart suit pants ensemble before grabbing all your notes and heading to Nevermore for the time you needed to be there.

Arriving at Nevermore brought you so many memories. It was like nothing had changed. You made your way to the office and waited for your name to be called. There were a few other people also waiting to be interviewed which only made you more nervous.

Knowing you had competition made you worry that you wouldn’t be able to bring something to the table that they might be able to offer. After about 20 minutes of waiting you were finally called into the office where the headmistress was conducting interviews.

You grabbed your stuff nervously before heading into the office that you had been in so many times before. Your heartbeat settled when you saw the one and only Larissa Weems. You sat down opposite her with the desk separating the both of you.

“Principal Weems, it’s so good to see you again” you smiled at her. “I told you it was never goodbye” she smiled as she looked over your CV. The fact that she remembered that was enough to make your heart flutter. “How have you been y/n? It’s been a long time since our days at Nevermore” she smiled at you.

“It’s been good. After my studies here I went to university to get my degree in teaching and botanical science. I then went travelling for a year and then spent the last 5 years teaching at a variety of schools” you told her.

“Aww that’s great to hear. Now, let’s get started with this interview” she smiled. The interview went well. She asked you a number of different questions which you were able to answer perfectly as well as adding your own touch to.

The interview lasted about 45 minutes but it felt like the two of you had been talking for all of 10 minutes. You still got that feeling when you saw and spoke to her which surprised you. Larissa said that you would hear from her in about a week once all the interviews had been conducted.

So in the meantime it was just a waiting game. That week seemed to drag but by the end of it you finally received a call from Larissa. “Hello” you answered the phone waiting for Larissa’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Morning y/n, I’m calling you today to let you know that after interviewing all the other candidates I would like to offer you the job” Larissa told you from the other end of the phone.

“Thank you so much Larissa. I would love to accept the position” you told her, trying your best to hide your excitement. “That’s great to hear y/n! I will email you shortly with everything you need to know. I look forward to working with you at Nevermore” Larissa said before you both said goodbye and hung up. This was the start of a new adventure.

Flash forward to a few months later and you were now finally settled in at Nevermore. You absolutely love teaching your classes and you love that you have onsite accommodation which means you never had to leave the place unless you wanted to go.

You have been getting on well with all your colleagues but there was one you wanted to spend a little more time with as you really got to know the woman you had a huge crush on many years ago. At the moment the two of you have had many chats in the canteen while having lunch and surprisingly you have learnt a lot.

Larissa is currently single which is great for you, she loves fashion as well as her love for Nevermore. It is clear she has such a passion for this school and she also loves going to this cafe called the Weathervane to get herself a hot chocolate most days.

Now you were just finding the courage to ask Larissa out on a date but you were just trying to find the right opportunity to do so. You were currently finishing up teaching your class before heading to the canteen to grab some lunch hoping you would also bump into Larissa so you could ask her a very important question.

You made your way down there quite quickly due to the fact you haven’t had much to eat at all today. You grabbed yourself a tray before helping yourself to the selection of food in front of you. You helped yourself to some pizza, chips and beans before grabbing some cutlery and heading to the tables reserved for teachers.

You sat there as you happily ate your lunch as you scanned the room for Larissa. After about 10 minutes you saw the tall beauty enter the room before grabbing her lunch. When she turned around it looked like she was going to head back out of the canteen but then she caught your eye. ‘

You immediately blushed and looked back down at your food. When you next looked up you found Larissa standing in front of you which only caused you to blush again. “Is it alright if I sit with you y/n?” she asked, waiting for you to answer. “Yeah, of course it is,” you told her. Larissa immediately took a seat next to you as you both happily ate your lunch in peace.

“So how have you found it here these last few months?” Larissa asked as she then took a bite of her pizza. “Yeah it has been absolutely amazing. I love all my students as well as my colleagues” you said smiling at Larissa. “Oh does that mean you love me as well” she teased as you felt yourself blush once more.

“Oh you do don't you, hence why you are blushing” she said laughing but getting more serious. You looked at her seriously for a second debating whether now was the right time to say anything.

“Alright Larissa, I will admit I have a slight crush on you. I have done since I was a student here. However I didn’t want to say anything even now in case I ruin our professional relationship” you sigh as you just looked at Larissa. “You have known all this time haven’t you?” you asked as she had this devilish grin plastered on her face.

“Oh of course I have darling. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that one out. I understand why you didn’t say anything as a student but even then I could tell. Like who would really want to spend all that time with me? I am flattered though. I was just waiting for you to admit it to me” she smiled at you.

Did she feel the same way? “Ok well now that is out in the open then I guess I have something to ask you. Would you maybe like to go out for hot chocolate with me tomorrow afternoon?” you asked as you felt yourself blush once more. You really needed to get a hold of yourself.

“What? Like a date?” Larissa smiled. You couldn’t tell if she was still joking around or if she was being serious. “Yeah, like a date” you smiled trying to read her emotions. Larissa was quick to look around the canteen before looking back at you to make sure no one else had heard what you asked. “Yeah, I would love to,” she smiled.

You felt the excitement build up inside of you as you had finally landed a date with Larissa. “How does 14:00 sound tomorrow at the Weathervane?” you asked Larissa as you finished eating your lunch. “That sounds perfect. I look forward to it” Larissa smiled as she rested her hand on top of yours.

The two of you chatted for the rest of the lunch break before heading your separate ways for the rest of the day. The two of you exchanged your personal phone numbers before spending most of the day texting each other even though you both should be working.

Your date at the Weathervane went amazingly. The bond between the two of you got closer and closer and the two of you were already planning your next few dates. You couldn’t wait to see where this new adventure with Larissa would take you. The next step was definitely to ask Larissa to be your girlfriend and the thought of it just filled you with excitement.

[sickczyk]

ATTENTION ALL NEVERWHORES!!

we're trending!!! 🥳🥳

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Sickness Excuse || Part 2

Request (A03): Umm not sure if it’s your thing but could you do a follow up where Weems discusses why reader didn’t say anything?

Pairings: Weems x thornhill x reader (Platonic)

Word count: 1.3K

Summary: after being brought back to the principal's office, Weems and Thornhill want to know more and make sure you're ok.

TW: Mentions of sickness, food poisoning, protective Weems

A/n I had a request for part 2 on my A03 so here we are :)

PART 1

“No, you listen here. I am all for supporting local business but poisoning one of my students is beyond the scope of my good will. I expect you to look into the matter and for it to be resolved or i will contact the authorities. I will not have an outbreak of any kind within my school.” Principle weems said.

She had been on the phone for the better half of fifteen minutes after you had fallen asleep. She didn’t want to wake you, but she couldn’t let it go that you had fallen ill due to local incompetence.

After another few minutes the matter was resolved and the principle hung up the phone, massaging her temples with her fingers as she glanced over at you again. You had been ok since you got to her office, and she was hoping that the worst of it had passed.

Ms Thornhill had returned to classes, and she had said she would return later with lunch for the three of you, so nobody had to leave you alone.

Glancing at the clock it was almost a quarter to twelve and lunch would be soon. Standing from her desk the principle quietly came to your side and laid her hand gently on your cheek. You were still warm, so she went to fetch a cool cloth.

When she returned your eyes were open, but they were glazed with fever and confusion.

“Hello Y/n.” The principle said as she laid the cloth over your forehead and brushed the damp hair from your face. Her nails ran against your scalp and the feeling was amazing.

Your eyes fluttered shut for a second and you hummed in content making Ms Weems laugh.

“Now don’t you be going back to sleep my dear child.” She said with mock authority. “We need to get some real food into you. Something light. Some medicine and some fluids my dear.” She said and you hummed again not really understanding through the haze of your fever.

The principle frowned and felt your cheek again with a sigh. She stood and grabbed the thermometer, gently tucking it under your tongue. After it beeped, she removed it seeing it had risen slightly.

She hoped that was an indication it would break soon but she makes note to knock on wood later.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a bit when a knock of the door startled the principle. You laughed in your semi lucid state, being too out of it to flinch at the noise itself but awake enough to laugh at the principle's reaction.

She shot you a mock glare and you buried your face into the pillow to stifle your giggles.

“Come in.” Larissa said and the door opened slowly to reveal Ms Thornhill holding three trays of food for you all. Principle Weems stood and helped her carry the food over to the coffee table.

“How are you feeling Y/n/n?” The botany teacher asked, and you shrugged and gave an airy giggle in response.

She gave you a soft but concerned look. “That good huh?” She asked and you nodded eagerly. You liked her. She was your dorm mum, so it made sense.

“Do you think you could have some of this soup for us y/n?” She asked and you nodded and began to slowly eat the soup.

The principle and the botany teacher began to talk about boring things as you ate and every once in a while, they would shoot you a look just to check you were ok.

After almost fifteen minutes everyone had finished eating and you looked slightly more lucid now. The fever was going away.

“How do you feel darling? Sick at all?” Weems asked and you shook your head.

“I feel much better than before thank you Principle weems.” You said your cheeks still slightly flushed.

She stood and walked over to you placing her hand on your cheek again.

“Your fever seems to be going down so thats a good sign at least.” She said and Ms Thornhill came over and felt your forehead.

“I’d agree.” She said before going back to her seat and sipping her coffee.

“I can probably go back to my dorm now. You probably have stuff to do anyway.” You said picking at the loose thread on your sleeve and staring at your shoes.

Ms Thornhill raised an eyebrow as she studied you and the principle laughed.

“No so fast Ms L/n.” Weems said, and you looked up at her. “First i want to keep you here a bit longer, at the very least until that fever is fully broken if not longer. We need to give you some meds and some fluids darling and i want to ask you some things.” She said and you nodded and averted your gaze again.

“Here drink this.” Ms thornhill said as she handed you a bottle of blue Gatorade, she had brought with her.

“Thanks.” You said and popped the top off it and took a swig.

“Good.” Ms Thornhill said and scooped up the trays off the table. “Well i need to get back to the greenhouse and do some lesson plans. If you need me thats where I'll be. Don’t hesitate to grab me if you do.” She said and the principle thanked her as she left.

“Here take these.” she said and handed you some small white tablets you looked at them and took them with another swig of Gatorade.

The principle took a seat opposite you and sat with her hands folded in her lap.

“Now. Y/n.” She said and you looked anywhere but her you hand fidgeting with the hem of your blazer again. “Care to tell me why you felt you couldn’t just stay in your dorm or go to the infirmary. Is class too much for you? Are you behind? If you are i can help you. Darling you shouldn’t have gone to class if you were ill. Im simply concerned at the lack of care you have shown for yourself.” She said placing a hand on your knee. You swallowed and looked into the fire.

“It's a dumb reason.” You said and she frowned.

“Im sure it's not.” She said and you shook your head squirming in your seat.

“I-I’ve been out of class too much lately. I know you’ve noticed.” You paused.

“I have.” She said and nodded.

“I didn’t want to tell you or some other teacher and get into trouble for skipping or something.” You mumbled and she softened.

“Darling, its only skipping if your actually fine. If you were really sick,” she waved a hand towards you in a sweeping gesture. “Like now, you will always be excused. Your health comes first.” She said and you swallowed back tears. It was unlike what you were used to. Your parents often sent you to school as a child even if you were sick. Anything short of puking your guts out and you were sent to school. This kindness wasn’t what you were used to.

“Darling come here.” The principle said and she pulled you in for a hug.

You relaxed in her hold and breathed in her mixed scent of hot chocolate, smoke from the fire and expensive perfume. You sniffled into her collar as she drew lazy circles on your back with her manicured fingertips.

“I’ve got you darlings. You're ok.” She said and you nodded into her chest. You were safe. You were loved. And you were listened to. What more did you need?

MASTERLIST

[dragonerd8224]

New Year’s kiss: A Nevermore oneshot

idk man I felt like it ok?

—

“Annabel, what’s wrong?” Prospero asked, his voice quiet and careful not to ring through the halls of the Academy.

“Nothing, love,” Annabel lied. “Just dreams, memories, memories of dreams…” In her mind’s eye she kept seeing a moment. A moment that never happened. Or maybe it did. She didn’t quite remember. She couldn’t stop remembering the toll of a bell, the joyous shouts, the unexpected feeling on her lips.

It had felt so wrong, but so right.

“The year is drawing to a close, isn’t it?” Prospero whispered.

“I’m not sure how, but I know that you are correct.” Annabel mused. “Do you think the Deans will initiate any festivities?”

Prospero shook his head. “It’s unlikely, and besides, it doesn’t matter. A ball would only take away our focus.”

“Yes, I agree,” Annabel replied. She nearly said something else: It would never be as good as that night. A night that may never have happened.

That night, spent with her dearest friend, who offered to kiss her when the clock struck midnight. She remembered the words, unsure if she had ever heard them or only dreamed them. “Better me than some boring man who you barely know, yes?”

And Lenore had been right. It was better. Much better.

—

“It’s December thirty-first.” Lenore spoke with a certainty that surprised even herself. She didn’t know how, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Duke nodded, standing next to her and looking out at the water. “Indeed it is.” He turned to her, a small smile on his face. “Do you remember anything about how you celebrated the New Year in life?”

Lenore was lucky she didn’t gasp. When he had said that, memories began to flow into her head. They felt more like fantasies than anything. Memories of fantasies, thoughts that stuck with her but were never real.

She had put her lips on Annabel Lee’s. She had kissed that woman. And she enjoyed it.

Looking back, Lenore wasn’t sure if she wanted the memories to be real or not. Was the idea too good to be true? Was she a little bit… scared of Annabel deep down? She didn’t know what she felt.

She finally opened her mouth and responded to Duke: “No, nothing special that I can remember.” It was a lie, a blatant lie. If her New Years Kiss with Annabel was real, then there was no way that ‘nothing special’ happened in any of the New Years Days in her life. But she wasn’t ready to tell him about all that.

She couldn’t forget the scene that night, regardless of whether it was a dream or not. Her and Annabel, sitting together, looking out a window as they waited for the bell to toll, signaling the coming of a new year. Lenore had quietly, uncertainly, asked if she could kiss Annabel when the clock struck midnight. Annabel had never really kissed anyone before that moment, and Lenore believed that it would be better to kiss her than her future husband who she likely wouldn’t care for.

And when the clock struck midnight and the bell rang, Lenore Vandernacht and Annabel Lee Whitlock had put their lips on each other’s, creating a memory that felt too fantastical to be true.

[daydream-cement]

Seven Minutes in Heaven (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Larissa joins you for seven minutes in heaven.

Author’s Note: THIS IS SO LATE! BUT THIS IS MY FINAL CONTRIBUTION TO SPOOKY SEASON with @alexusonfire (even tho spooky season is over). This weeks prompt is Halloween Party and I kinda followed that HAHAHAH.

Your class reunion wasn’t something you had anticipated enjoying. Between fielding questions about the current state of your life and if you remembered trivial details from your high school experience, you weren’t keen on repeating the same answers over and over.

But then again, it wasn’t often you had the opportunity of seeing your high school friends, especially at a huge Nevermore Halloween party. 

You hadn’t wanted to shop for a costume, so you threw together some things from your closet to be Dr. Ellie Sattler from 'Jurassic Park' - a costume you figured you would have to explain frequently, but it was better than buying something. 

As you walked into the old high school gym, you began recognizing classmates. Some you kept in close contact while others you had gone 30 years without speaking to. You saw one of those latter individuals immediately - Larissa Weems.

At least you thought it was her. 

She had grown a couple more inches and her body had filled out, but the pinup girl aesthetic remained. You couldn’t tell what her costume was supposed to be as she had maintained her business professional dress. 

You knew you were staring, but you were having trouble comprehending your newfound attraction to your old classmate. And Larissa must have noticed when she approached you with a wide grin, “It’s been too long!”

“It certainly has, and look at you now! The Headmistress of Nevermore?” You grinned and teased her a bit.

“It wasn’t my intention when I first began teaching here, but I must say I love it.” 

The next flirtatious words left your mouth before you had too much time to think about it, “The job looks good on you.” 

There was a brief silence and you then chose to fill it with a compliment, “Everything looks really great, Larissa.”

“I’m grateful for all the help I had… Speaking of…” The shapeshifter checked her watch and glanced back at you. She reached a hand out and squeezed your shoulder, her smile holding a sense of mischief, “I should get this party started. It was really nice seeing you. I hope we can catch up more later.”

Larissa took her position at the front podium and addressed the group, “I am so glad all of you could be present for our 30th class reunion. I am particularly excited this event lands on Halloween! It is so nostalgic seeing your 90s costumes you have put together.”

The platinum blonde gave a short speech about Nevermore and its ability to bring outcasts together. She finished her speech with a great big smile, “There are games and activities for you all throughout the building for you all. Have a wonderful evening!”

You wandered the halls with your old friends, shifting from game to game. All of the activities seemed to be reminiscent of your high school days. 

As the evening progressed, new (and probably not approved) games seemed to pop up throughout the school. Spin the bottle popped up in the english classroom, strip poker was beginning in the employee break room, and seven minutes in heaven was starting in the janitor’s closet. 

You paused near the group gathered outside the janitor’s closet, listening to Larissa politely scolding the group for playing such a childish game. You considered supporting her, but your friends had suddenly volunteered you for the next round. 

For a few cocky seconds, you agreed to the game, glancing at Larissa as you agreed to be shoved in the closet to await your partner. Her eyes were wide, almost shocked that you would be willing to play such a game.

As the door shut in your face, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Anxiety and shame coursed through your body as you awaited the group to pick your seven minutes in heaven partner. You hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, but you were hoping Larissa would get picked to join you. At least then you would be able to shoot your shot with her. 

Moments later, the closet door opened and the outline of Larissa Weems towered over you. Your dreams had come true, but now you were paralyzed at the notion of kissing her. 

Larissa squeezed her way in the closet, chest pressed to yours as she beamed down at you, “Hi, Y/n.”

Before you could respond, the door was closed behind her - your time had begun.

One minute.

“Hi, Larissa.” You mumble, grateful for the darkness of the closet. She would have been able to see your blush otherwise. 

The shapeshifter leaned in close, her fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as her lips lingered near your ear, “We should probably make wise use of our time together.”

Your tongue instinctively darts from your lips, wetting them as your hands timidly reach for her hips. 

The first kiss from Larissa was to the corner of your mouth followed by another to your cheek followed by another just below your ear. 

Your building nerves had you about to explode. To deal with this, your brain decided it was a good idea to have you start chattering anxiously, “I think you’re really pretty… Like… really pretty.”

“Mm… thank you, darling.” Larissa hummed. Her hand came to rest on the back of your neck, gripping it softly as she held you close. 

Two minutes.

“I was actually thinking of talking to-” You began, swiftly being cut off by Larissa.

“Maybe we should stop talking, hm?” She whispered as she took a step forward, pressing her body to yours. The increased proximity allowed you to feel the way she trembled lightly - she must have been just as nervous as you.

You nod slowly, gripping the sides of her dress in your fists to keep her close. Finally, you begin to return her affections - pressing a kiss to her jawline before timidly working your way towards her lips. 

Her other hand had wound around your middle - the pads of her fingers stroking the skin of your side as they pushed your shirt up the slightest bit. With every move of her fingers and lips, you found yourself losing your ability to control yourself.

When Larissa felt you drawing closer to her lips, she paused her own kisses to your skin, choosing to turn towards you instead, connecting your lips.

The first kiss was soft and quick, but once you both realized the potential of your chemistry you both dove in for another kiss.

Then another.

And another.

All growing in duration and intensity.

Three minutes.

You felt dizzy from desire. Absolutely drunk off Larissa’s lips. 

Only if you could have seen the lipstick smeared around both of your mouths. 

Larissa’s fingers squeezed your sides with a ferocity that made your eyes wind shut. In an act of desperation, one of your hands flies to the back of her neck to prevent any opportunity for her to pull away. 

You wished this moment would never end. 

All of those years of crushing on Larissa in school were finally coming to fruition. 

Her teeth tugged and sucked at your bottom lip - a preamble of her growing passion.

Four minutes.

It came as a shock when her hands clamped down on your cheeks and she pressed her lips to yours with an intensity that made your brain short circuit. 

Her tongue slipped past her lips, swiping it up across your lips before nipping at your bottom lip. 

The kisses became searing pecks as Larissa began interjecting her desires between them.

“Aren’t you just darling?”

“I bet our time is running out…”

“Perhaps we should meet back in my office when this little game is over.”

“We could have our own extended version of seven minutes in heaven…”

Five minutes.

Larissa was overcome by her desires for you. In a flash, she had you with your back against the wall. Her kisses were soon open mouthed and sloppy - evidence of her growing arousal.

Her passion made you brazen. Your hands fell to her backside, cupping and groping her ass rough enough to make the shapeshifter moan in your mouth. Larissa’s hips bucked against your pelvis, continually searching for more proximity that was no longer physically possible.

With enough grabbing of her plush ass, her shirt began to ride up and you took total advantage of the situation. Your fingers gripped the edge of her skirt and peeled it upwards enough to expose Larissa’s underwear to your wandering hands. 

The shapeshifter smiled against your lips at her newfound exposure. She then pushed a thigh between your legs - not to pleasure you, however. Larissa was too focused on her own neediness as she began grinding herself on your upper thigh.

Six minutes.

“It’s been so long, darling…” Larissa moaned in your ear, bucking and grinding herself against you with reckless abandon. Your hands positioned on her ass allowed you to play a role in guiding her hips to roll against you.

“Whatever you want… I’ll do whatever. Just tell me what you want.” You whimper before pushing your hips upward against Larissa’s needy pelvis.

“I want you… I just want you.” 

It was clear the shapeshifter had had enough talking when her lips crashed back onto yours and her tongue plunged back into your mouth. 

You gave yourself over entirely.

Only wanting to be of use to her.

Seven minutes.

Banging on the door caused the shapeshifter to pull away with a groan. Her eyes scanned your face through the darkness of the room before she dipped back down, grazing your lips with hers once, then twice - teasing you. 

“Times up.” She whispered, readjusting her skirt before wiping at her smeared lipstick with the back of her hand. “See you later, darling?”

“Yeah.. yeah.. I-I’ll see you- uhm- later…” You sputter out as she leaves you alone in the closet - disheveled and out of breath, leaning against a wall with lipstick stains covering your face and neck. 

As soon as you collected yourself, you knew you would be sprinting to her office.

PART 2

Taglist: @charymobile , @bri-sonat , @weemswife @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse , @teashock , @enchantressb , @alex-nyx , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan , @lilfartbox1 , @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @sicklygrlsicklygrl , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @dumbasslesbi , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @h-doodles , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 @bychrissi , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic , @kimiinou @hiiamkatana , @mountain-bikingwitch , @willowshadenox , @aemilia19 , @mommyslittlebaby , @agathaandgwenslesbian , @gay-frogs08

[makncheese12]

Omg

Fallen Angel R x Wednesday and she sees R literally fall from the sky

That’s actually a good idea omg.

Masterlist

A/N: I actually like this omg(bare with me English is not my first language🥲 I’m getting help from my friend to edit it)

Warnings: my writing, slight language, falling

Wednesday Addams x fallen!angel Reader

High risk

“Welcome to the quad!” Wednesday’s blonde new roommate stares, arms open as they step outside.

“It’s a pentagon.” The brunette states matter-of-factly as she looks through the open area of students.

The area full of hormonal teenagers only souring her mood further as some notice her presence and stare in interest as they both step out.

Enid rolls her eyes before turning to the girl. “The whole snarky, goth girl thing might have worked at normie school, but here things are different.” The blonde says with a smile before turning to walk.

“Let me give you a wiki on Nevermore’s social scene.” Wednesday huffs out, keeping her face straight.

“I’m not interested in participating in tribal adolescent cliches.” She replies following after the girl. “Well, then use it to fill your obviously bottomless pit of disdain.”

“There are many flavors of outcast here, but the four main cliques are the Fangs, Furs, Stoners and Scales.” Enid continues as they both continue down the turning hall way.

“Those are the Fangs, AKA vampires.” She gestures to a table full of pale students with sunglasses on, some drinking out of small bags full of red liquid.

They turn their heads at the mention of vampire, a few hissing quietly making Wednesday subtly cringe back at the horrible attempt of a threat.

“Some of them have literally been here for decades.” She finishes making some smirk and nudge at a girl in the middle who rolls her eyes.

“That bunch of knuckle heads are the Furs, AKA werewolves. Like me!” A series out howls are let out at the mention of their name. One jumping on the table in the process.

The boy then jumps off the table and pushes his friend playfully.

Wednesday watches the boy catch himself from falling and let out a loud laugh before he pushes his friend back making him stumble into a nearby table where you sat. The table full of crows on top as you pull crumbs out of a small brown paper bag, dark wings sprawled out as you do so. He slightly trips over your wings and your body stiffens up

A loud hiss like snarl is heard making the boy turn quickly to defend himself from its source.

“And that is Y/N L/N,” the blonde says watching you stand quickly. “What the hell! Are you trying to break some bones?” You ask, teeth bared at the bushy haired boy who too lets out his own growl.

“Maybe you should pick them up from off the floor.” He says baring his teeth at you. “Or maybe you should just watch where you step.” You say angrily, practically hissing at the boy making some of your feathers fluff around.

“I wouldn’t need to watch my step if you kept them where they belong.” He says in an insulting tone which only causes the crows around you to flap their wings and caw around.

Wednesday watched with amusement as you both continued your argument. “Y/N’s clique is.. well, her own. She’s the only one of her kind here, she does tend to hover around the scales though.” The blonde mumbles watching as you step closer toward the boy.

He also takes a step forward, coming nose to nose with you as some of his pack members step up while the others decide to stay down.

At least some of them know better than most not to get in the way of a former angel.

“Back off.” You growl, eyes quite literally darkening to a darker shade of crimson as you glare up at him. His features are a mix of anger and fear as he stares down at you, not knowing what to do or say next at your angry state.

“Why don’t you just go back to hell, it’s where you clearly belong.” He throws another insult making your eyes narrow and dark fist clench.

“Hell is where your going, I’ll make sure of it once I’m done with you.” You say before a gasp from enid could be heard.

Everyone knew angels kept their promises, even if they were banished to the depths of hell.

You were playing a dangerous game, werewolf against angel would leave most of the area destroyed if you decided to play around with him before decided to take the victory.

The silent threat in your eyes is enough to send the group of wolves gathered behind him back to their table, tails between their legs by the sudden change of atmosphere and sudden eerie quietness the crows have.

The boy stares down at you, searching for something even he didn’t know before rolling his eyes and turning on his heels. “I’m starting to see why they kicked you out of heaven.” He throws one last insult before going back to his table, quickening his pace at the sound of your hiss.

Werewolves, always needed to last word or hit. It made your eye twitch and your clenched hand to puncture your palm, drawing a small amount of blood.

Your eyes then suddenly look around the quad, watching as the eyes that were once on you snap away at the sudden eye contact.

Your eyes then land on Wednesday, noticing the way she doesn’t flinch nor look away. Just simply stare back.

You stare for another moment, eyes scanning her over before they slowly go back to their normal color and your feathers lay down from their frenzied state.

“Y/N L/N!” A voice booms through the quad making you flinch and roll your eyes before they land on a teacher in the main doorway. “My classroom, now.” He calls before turning around.

You scoff before marching off after him, the pathway already clearing as students move out of the way.

“She’s not that bad,” Wednesday hears enid says making her eyes snap from the door way to the blonde. “She’s actually really cool once you meet her non-angry side.” She says, a smile on her face at the memories you two had shared.

Wednesday doesn’t react as she continues her way through the hall, the blonde quickly on her heels as she does so.

“Im assuming scales are sirens?” She asks, eager to get this whole interaction over with.

————

The sound of howls echo through the school hallways and any surrounding area keeping most of Nevermore’s residents awake.

Some watching their favorite shows, others having friends over, hell they were even walking around at the late hour. Anything to drown out the consistent sound.

You scowl at the sound yourself and push your wings to flap harder as the air pressure begins to drop making your lungs burn, craving the regular air that it was so used to.

You take another deep breath before passing the cloud line.

You wish you could say you were used to it but that’d just be a lie. The only reason the burn grew was because you were going higher, closer to the place you were specifically locked out of.

It was like a barrier, or rather a cage made by god himself to keep you inside and trapped for eternity.

You wish you could break the barrier and see what it was like. What the feeling would be like in your lungs when you got inside. Would you be able to breath or would your lungs explode like any normal human?

You wished you could find out.

Not that you didn’t try, you did. And you passed out in the process, you were forced to regenerate in hell for a few years after.

Once the burning truly began to hurt you stop, flapping your wings to keep you in your position. The sound of the howls now faded into the back ground.

You look down to see Nevermore through the dense clouds, light barely breaking through them as they pass.

You let out a sigh of relief, the cool air whipping across your face enough to feel like you had just been slapped.

A feeling you liked and were fond of.

It showed the moments before you got to feel the pure bliss of the air blowing past your wings at an alarming rate.

It’s what you craved.

Right before you could let go, you heard another sound.

It was almost louder than the manically barks and howls running through the woods, it sounded far better too.

You crane your ears a little more to hear it better.

Music. You had decided. The sound of different chords getting louder then softer then louder again as it continued on through the song.

It piqued your interest. Yes there were plenty of musically instrument players around the large school but none were quite that good let alone played the Cello.

After making the decision to find the owner, you allow your wings to stop before leaning your head back with a smile on your face.

Your wings — now fully relaxed — float above your body, flapping around mindlessly as the wind blows past you. Clothes ruffling about, hair coming undone and flowing all over the place.

It was peaceful, knowing you would be able to catch yourself and avoid your demise. You could do it all day and never falter.

Wednesday watches thing turn to the last page, he strikes becoming stronger. Encouraged by the thought of finished strong when something catches her eye in the moon and faint light from the school.

She doesn’t allow herself to falter as she finish the piece before looking into the sky.

She sees a figure, falling at an alarming rate from high in the sky. Large wing flying around before straightening out and twisted their owner through the air

They dive into the tree line before she could see anymore and she could only assume who it was. The angry bird she had yet to meet throughout her day in Nevermore, never even getting a glimpse of them.

What a strange sight to see. Not everyone can just fly up and allow themselves to fall. Who in their right mind would?

She would if she could, it seemed like a enjoyable thing to do.

She lets out a sigh before closing her eyes and breathing in the cool air and howling once again echoes through the school once again.

Her brows crease at the noise, it was worse than Enid’s loud pop music she has yet to get used to. Her grip on her Cello tightens slightly when another round of bowls rang through the air.

This is where she found her peace, or was at least before she stopped and the wolves could be heard again.

When she had to clear her mind she would play her Cello, the lines and chords being the only thing on her mind.

After todays events, it’s what she needed.

She lets out another breath when the air suddenly picks up making her shiver very slightly, the cold feeling uncomfortable yet bearable.

The sudden movement of paper and tapping causes Wednesday’s eyes to snap open to be met with a still dark figure hunched over and pirched on her dorm patio railing.

Blood colored eyes piercing into her own.

It was like two Gargoyles staring at each other, both unmoving and unblinking. The other refusing to falter while waiting for the other to.

She took the chance to look at your features more clearly up close in her peripheral view.

Your wings black as night yet sprinkled with white fading feather like stars, blackened skin leading up your forearm before fading into the natural skin color, skin littered with scars in different areas. Hair, wild and untamed while your clothes did the same.

She would have kept inspecting if it weren’t for Thing who slowly crawls from behind her music holder.

You’re eyes snap to him and he almost shrinks back behind it.

“What is that?” You ask, head tilting slightly. The resemblance to a bird being quite exact, Wednesday thought to herself as her eyes shifted between you and Thing.

“That is Thing.” She says, taking offense for him as he sits on her nub and waves.

Your eyes open slightly more as you wave back, clawed fingers wiggling at the him. Your eyes quickly go to a lighter shade of red in the process.

“Cool,” you say watching him jump off and climb up the railing.

You had never seen anything like him, in all your years you had seen every creature created yet nothing like him.

You wondered if the devil himself was the one who created him instead of god.

“A pleasure to meet you, Thing.” You say, reaching out with an open palm. He inspects your hand for a moment, hesitating when seeing your long nails making you chuckle.

You force your nails into the flat ones that humans have and he jumps slightly.

He taps around excitedly turning to Wednesdays then back to you, taking your hand firmly making you laugh.

“Quite the handshake you’ve got.” You say and him tap, unknown to what he was saying before you look back to Wednesday.

“This isn’t your dorm.” She tells you as if it weren’t obvious with the large window to Ophelia hall.

“I know,” you say throwing your legs over the side and allowing yourself to plop down on the railing. “I was just taking a little stroll when I heard you playing.”

“If falling from the sky and almost to your demise is consider a ‘little stroll’ I think I would enjoy that.” Wednesday says, your smile grows giving her the sight of your top fangs.

“Trust me, you would. So,” You start before glancing up to their large window. “The loud and open girl roomed with the new dark and mysterious girl, how unfortunate.” You say, referring to Enid who forced her way into being friends with you.

“Yes it’s insulting, really.” She replies crossing her arms. “The colors burn my eyes, I sometime wish to gauge them out with a spoon every time I enter our room.” She says, remembering how only hours ago she almost strangled the girl and destroyed her music.

You chuckle lightly before looking to your right to see Thing, poking at one of your wings. “I see it now, ‘fallen angel’.” She says referring to what she had witnessed a few moments ago.

“Who would have thought being damned by god himself would be so fun.” You laugh at the irony of the situation, being a fallen angel and enjoying the feeling of falling from the sky.

“You must have done something horrible to do so.” She says and your smile fades.

Your face contorts, subtly. From anger and then to sadness. You didn’t know how to feel about your odd situation.

Your father was the one to do something, you were just a tag along.

“Perhaps,” your head tilts up toward the sky allowing the moon the kiss your skin. “Or maybe someone did it before I could.”

You mumble the last part but Wednesday catches it along with the sadness in your voice as a crow lands next to you.

“Caw!” It screams out making your head look down once again, your smile returning in process.

He perched next to you , head tilting almost upside down as you pull out something wrapped in a brown bag.

“Why were you falling from the sky?” She asks, the question blunt yet not blunt at the same time.

You pull out a lump of bread before breaking a small piece off and hand it to the Crow. He quickly snatches it before jumping a few feet away to eat it.

You chuckle at the sight before humming in response to her question. “I just like a little high risk.” You reply and her heart skips a beat for a moment, too quick for her to question yet doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You must not be fully sane then.” She says and you snort. “You don’t seem like you are either, nor your family from what I’ve heard.” You state before your face falls. “No offense.” You apologize with a small grimace at your own comment.

“None taken, I like to think that a compliment.” If your smile could grow even more than before, it definitely did just now.

You look back down at the bird who jumps back toward you, hopping up and down in excitement. Your eyebrows knit together for a moment, clearly deep in thought before you speak up again.

“I never caught your name.” You say as you take your index and middle finger and rub it down the back of the crow.

“Me or the bird?” She asks seriously making you bark out a laugh. “Crow.” You correct her before he could grow loud in offense by being called a bird. “But you, this is Atticus.” You say and the crow caws out multiple times before settling down again.

“Wednesday.” She says and you nod, humming to yourself before looking toward her away. “How unique for a unique person.” You say, head tilting like the crow next to you.

Wednesday suddenly feels her heart racing at the the sight. Strange.

“I don’t think I caught yours either.” She says watching as Thing and the bird come hand to face on the railing, inspecting each other.

“Y/N.” You say head tilting back once again to look at the sky. “It’s for some reason modern to the year.” You say, eyes full of question as you continue to stare up.

“Tell me, Wednesday,” your eyes once again meeting hers. “Have you ever met an angel?” You ask and she knits her eyebrows together.

“No.” She replies and you nod. “Good, their horrible creatures who should be damned to their own personal cages.” Your voice is suddenly tense and full of hatred as you look up again.

The question confused her, why would you ask that just out of the blue? The question was a random one but you also seemed to be with your sudden appearance.

Before she could ask what you meant the window opens and her bright roommate steps out.

“Oh, hi Y/N! What are you doing here? It’s not Thursday.” She questions as she quickly skips toward you in excitement. “And hello to you too, Atticus!”

The crow caws and hops closer, allowing the girl to scratch under his beak.

You smile at the reference to your weekly manicures the girl gives you. She insisted your long nails were too creepy without any polish and you agreed to allow her to paint them black.

“I was taking a stroll and met your new roommate here.” You tell her and your eyes travel to to Wednesday who continues to sit in her chair.

“Or did you just try and scare her like the rest?” Enid eyes you suspiciously and you raise your hands in defense.

“I would do no such thing.” You smile as the girl rolls her eyes. “You’d be shocked at how unfazed she was, I was sure I would get her.” You grumble, further proving the blondes point.

“I highly doubt that.” Wednesday mutters as she begins collecting her things. You chuckle, glancing toward the woods noticing the sudden silence.

“Well, sounds like your little furry mongrel friends have finally quieted down.” You state standing up in your spot, glaring towards the woods. “I think I’m gonna go up one more time before bed.”

“Okay, have a good night! Don’t fly too high.” She replies with much enthusiasm about your nightly routine and you smile. “I will. Goodnight,” your eyes then travel to Wednesday and you smile even bigger. “Goodnight, Wednesday.”

Her heart continues to race, the feeling very different from beating of fear. That she enjoyed, this feeling she did not.

Quick, angry sounding taps are heard next to you and you chuckle. “Goodnight to you too, Thing.” You laugh before leaning back and letting yourself fall.

Atticus caws a few times before following after you into the air.

A/N: definitely imagined this song while falling in your circumstance of being a fallen angel

[kaimeioneclipse]

A Dark Wedding of Misery

Pairing: Wednesday x Male Reader

Summary: They said you two would never make it this far but you did. Y/N and Wednesday Addams are getting married. From Nevermore Academy to the Alter

WordCount: 1.3k words

WARNINGS: Kissing

The moon hung low in the midnight sky, casting an ethereal glow over the sprawling grounds of the Addams mansion. It was a night of foreboding, yet one tinged with an unusual excitement. Wednesday Addams, the somber and enigmatic daughter of the Addams family, was on the precipice of a life-altering event—an unholy matrimony that would defy the boundaries of the living and the dead.

The mansion, with its ivy-clad walls and twisted spires, exuded an otherworldly charm as Morticia, the epitome of Gothic elegance, supervised the final touches of her daughter's wedding gown. The dress, a masterpiece of darkness and grace, clung to Wednesday like a second skin, its midnight-black fabric cascading around her like a shroud.

"I will need some more black ash for the rest of your dress, Possibly your grandmothers would suffice. I shall return" Morticia says as he scurries out the room.

Wednesday scoots herself over to the dusty mirror in the Library that the family turned into a fitting room for the occasion. She looked at the black dress and felt it unsettling that her time was coming.

Wednesday looked at THING who was working on some dead flower arrangements and for the bridesmaids to hand out to them later.

"Thing" she called to him

Thing stopped his task and moved his hand body in her direction

"Find Enid, I wish to speak to her" Wednesday requested

Thing saluted and scurried off.

Wednesday waited for a few moments and then went towards the door and checked if the coast was clear. She picked up her black dress and began to run down the eerie hallways of the Addams Mansion towards the other wing.

_____________________________________

In a distant wing of the Addams mansion, where shadows played upon the walls like phantoms in the night, Y/N prepared for the unholy union. The air hung heavy with a sense of anticipation, and the dimly lit room seemed to echo with the echoes of centuries past.

Y/N, adorned in a suit as black as the void itself, stood before the ornate mirror. His hands trembled ever so slightly as he adjusted his tie, and his eyes, a mix of excitement and nervousness, reflected in the polished glass.

Ajax Petropolus, a towering figure with a beanie on his head stood behind Y/N checking themselves to make sure they looked good. He observed Y/N with a subtle nod, understanding the gravity of the moment. Eugene Ottinger, with his mop of unruly hair and penchant for the bizarre, fidgeted with the boutonnière, offering a lopsided grin. Beside them, Xavier Thorpe, with his piercing gaze and enigmatic aura, stood as the voice of reason.

Ajax: (In his deep, resonant voice) You'll do just fine, Y/N. It's not every day you get to marry into the Addams clan.

Eugene: (With a mischievous smirk) Remember, weddings are just like funerals, only with better food!

Xavier: (In his calm, soothing tone) Relax, Y/N. Tonight is a celebration of the unusual, and you, my friend, are stepping into a realm where the extraordinary is the norm.

As the trio provided reassurance and prepared Y/N for his impending union with Wednesday, the mansion's eerie silence served as a stark contrast to the bustling emotions within.

Once the boys left, Y/N stood alone in the room, the weight of the moment settling upon him like a heavy shroud. He looked at his reflection, contemplating the path that had led him to this peculiar crossroads.

As he ran his fingers through his hair, a knock echoed through the room. Y/N turned, expecting one of the boys to return with some last-minute advice. However, when he opened the door, there stood Wednesday—a vision of darkness and mystery and soon Y/N Wife.

Wednesday: (Expressionless) Y/N, the time is nigh.

Y/N: (Nervously) Yea it is, Wednesday. The boys were just helping me gather my composure.

Wednesday: (Observing him) Composure is overrated.

Without another word, Wednesday took Y/N's hand, leading him through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion. The moonlit hallway cast an eerie glow as they approached the entrance to the backyard—a gateway to the dark forest that concealed secrets untold.

--------------------------------------

The forest, with its twisted branches and shadowy depths, beckoned them into its enigmatic embrace. The rustling leaves and the distant hooting of an owl added to the mystical ambiance as Wednesday and Y/N ventured into the heart of the darkness.

Wednesday: (Stopping at the forest's edge) We stand on the precipice of eternity, Y/N. Tonight, we embark on a journey that transcends the mortal coil.

Y/N: (Nervously) Yes, Wednesday. I…

Wednesday: (Interrupting) Nervousness becomes you, Y/N. It is an emotion as genuine as the shadows that cloak our existence.

Y/N's gaze met Wednesday's, and in that moment, the moonlight revealed a vulnerability beneath her stoic exterior—a vulnerability mirrored in Y/N's own eyes.

Y/N: (Softly) I never thought I'd find someone as extraordinary as you.

Wednesday: (Expressionless) Extraordinary is subjective. Tonight, we become a tapestry of darkness and peculiarity, woven together in the moonlit dance of fate.....But I'm content that I've met you

Y/N, captivated by the haunting beauty of the dress, stood in awe of the enigmatic figure before him. The moonlight played upon the black fabric, casting an ethereal glow that accentuated the mysterious allure of Wednesday's presence.

Y/N: (Breathless) Wednesday, you're… breathtaking.

Wednesday: (Expressionless) Brevity suits the moment.

As those words hung in the air, Wednesday reached for Y/N's face with a gentle grace that belied her typically stoic demeanor. Her cool fingers traced a delicate path along his jawline, an intimate touch that transcended the shadows around them. In the dim moonlight, her left hand emerged, adorned with a striking black obsidian ring—a gem as dark as the night sky.

The ring, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, held an otherworldly allure. A seamless integration of black obsidian and silver, it seemed to absorb the moonlight, casting a subtle, mesmerizing glow. Etched into the obsidian was an intricate pattern reminiscent of ancient symbols—a visual ode to the peculiar legacy they were about to deepen.

As Wednesday caressed Y/N's face, their eyes locked, and in that shared gaze, they found solace and understanding. Their intertwined fingers, now adorned with the weight of the black obsidian ring, rose together, and they turned their attention to the moon, hanging high in the velvet expanse of the night sky.

The moon, a silent witness to their journey, bathed them in its silvery glow. In that moment of quiet reflection, they let their minds drift back to their time at Nevermore Academy—the place where their paths first crossed.

Y/N: (Softly) Remember the nights we spent beneath the moon at Nevermore? The laughter, the secrets shared?

Wednesday: (Nodding) Nevermore was a chapter, and tonight, under the same moon, we begin a new one.

Y/N: (Smiling) I never thought this would be my ending.

Wednesday: (With a hint of mystery) Endings are illusions, Y/N. This is but the beginning.

Their hands tightened in a silent agreement, and in the tranquil moonlit glade, they kissed—a union of darkness and passion that spoke of a love destined to defy the ordinary. As they embraced, the moon bore witness to the promise of their unholy matrimony.

With the moon as their guide, they turned away from the clearing, fingers still entwined, and made their way back to the Addams family mansion. The shadows welcomed them like old friends, and as they crossed the threshold, the doors creaked shut behind them, sealing the pact of an eternal love that echoed through the haunted halls of the Addams legacy.

And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moon and within the enigmatic embrace of the Addams mansion, Wednesday and Y/N embarked on a journey that defied the boundaries of time and tradition—an odyssey into the unknown, where each step marked a new beginning in the tapestry of their peculiar love. They walked hand in hand, ready to be officially married and embrace the darkness that awaited them—a love story destined to be inscribed in the annals of the Addams family's peculiar history.

(Author Notes)

Hey Everyone it's been a while. I know I've been away and I haven't finished ALOT of stories. I kinda fell off with writing, especially with content creation and work. Life be LIFEING! But we are back and I got inspired to write again due to the picture above. It was nice to write more Wednesday fanfics hopefully the fandom isn't dead but if you enjoyed it let me know and we can work on more stories.

Check out my MASTER LIST!

[stirthewaters]

Too Sharp to Touch pt.6

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, Wednesday-level threats 

Summary: Wednesday practically flips the school upside down during her search for her missing typewriter, and lo and behold look who comes to help her? None other than you.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

Wednesday was losing her mind.

And no, it was not as pleasant as she had imagined it would be.

It was missing. Gone. Almost as if it has never been there in the first place. 

Her typewriter - her precious, prized typewriter - was missing. 

The Addams was one who favored neatness and precision. Everything had its place and every place had its thing, ensuring that no time would be wasted and that there was no confusion in where something could be placed. If she needed something, it would be there. That was that, and that was the way that she liked it.

It was why Wednesday had a specific folder for her homework assignments, as well as one for her investigations, and another for story drabbles and ideas, all stashed carefully under her desk in their drawer where they could be easily accessed when needed.

So when the raven entered her shared dorm after a rather successful day of classes, pulling out her folder full of notes for her novel as she prepared to engage in her writing hour, when she spotted the lack of a typewriter beside her box of written pages, she was baffled. At first.

Without hesitation the first thing Wednesday did was meticulously search through every inch of Enid’s side of the dorm. The Addams hunted through every inch of pillows, nooks, crannies, and crawl space, though her attempts came to be in vain. She was unsurprised, albeit; she never truly believed that Enid would have taken it, even as maybe a prank, since the werewolf knew how much her typewriter meant to her, but everyone was a suspect when it came to things like this.  

And so the mystery began.

Of course, Wednesday loved a good mystery; she found nothing better than discovering the culprit of a complicated and mysterious case, one that would take experienced detectives hours to crack; seeing the fate of the culprit as their punishment was carried out - it was a wonderful feeling. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction.

And wouldn’t you know, the very first person to offer their help was you. You were eager, that she was sure of. It was unnerving how quickly you volunteered to help her solve the case, this tiny grin on your face every time you asked her about what the latest thing was she’d uncovered, but you weren’t the focus of her attention.

As much as she hated to admit it, Wednesday knew that Nevermore was a big school and having a werewolf with a good sense of smell would be helpful in her case, so she reluctantly allowed you to assist her, convincing herself repeatedly that it was only because she wanted to humor you.

Even worse? You weren’t that bad. She already knew you weren’t incessantly cheerful like Enid was, but you behaved yourself better than she’d expected, especially for you. It was odd, to say the least, to see the change in your behavior. Other than that, you did add helpful points to the conversation, and one or two of your suggestions weren’t as irrelevant as she’d expected.

Although Wednesday knew for certain that her typewriter had not been carelessly misplaced, she decided it wasn’t the worst of ideas to check anywhere it could have been misplaced, despite her insistence on the fact that she would never do such a thing. How could one misplace a large, expensive, prized typewriter that was only used in her dorm and her dorm alone? Impossible.

And so, the raven became sure that her assumptions had been correct from the start; foul play was indeed the only cause of her sudden loss and without a doubt when she would uncover the culprit at hand she would make their life a living hell. 

On her own the raven cut through her suspects list, starting with Bianca herself. Her week became festered with interviews as she took her time planning to take aside one of her friends (a term very loosely used), and question them mercilessly. Well - Bianca at least. The siren may have done her a favor or two a ways back but Wednesday was most certainly not one to allow mercy to anyone, especially under the circumstances. Unfortunately despite her flawless interrogation, the raven found Bianca empty handed. Ironic.

“What about Xavier?” That was your suggestion you offered when you approached her afterward, already peppering the raven with questions with that same small smile on your face that made her stomach twist.

“Xavier has no motive, Y/N, do you know anything about the pursuit of criminology?” Wednesday muttered, pulling the shoulder straps on her backpack tighter. “Use what’s left of your brain and actually think about possible suspects with valid intentions.”

Just as she expected you were already going for a kick to her shin, which she promptly dodged, continuing to walk down the hall while you surely sulked behind, most likely due to your failed attempt.

“I don’t have all day to play games and the gap is getting narrow.” Wednesday huffed, almost muttering to herself at this point as her fists clenched. “There’s an answer here.”

“What about Thing?”

Your voice broke her out of her thoughts as you jogged to catch up with her, walking alongside her as you spoke.

“He’s still pissed at you for giving him the silent treatment last week.” Your hands waved around excitedly as you talk, something that only very briefly distracted the raven.

“A punishment well deserved for an appendage who thinks it is appropriate behavior to provide useless information instead of helpful resources.” Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance as she recalled why she had refused the hand permission to assist her when she had performed her bloodstain analysis research on you in the woods a week prior. “He knows better than to hold grudges against an Addams.”

“He is an Addams, Wednesday.” The raven could practically hear you rolling your eyes as you spoke. “He’s part of your family but I wouldn’t put it past him to nab your typewriter to get revenge.”

“Couldn’t even think of the inevitable punishment he would receive,” Wednesday muttered with an eye roll of her own. “Ameuter. I’ll make sure he receives his consequences.”

The raven turned direction swiftly as she swerved from her original destination, already on track to Ophelia Hall as you caught up, the smile you had worn so frequently abruptly fading. Odd. She tried to focus on walking instead of your uncharacteristic silence. You were thinking. That she could tell.

“You’re going to like- hurt him? Right now?” You looked at her, your eyes searching hers. The raven kept her eyes ahead on the path, the students around her instinctively carving a path as she plowed through. “You can’t like- put him in timeout or something?”

Wednesday gave you a look of disgust as her lip curled into a grimace. “Y/N, suggest such a weak punishment like that again and I’ll make sure you understand an appropriate consequence.” She immediately shut down any nagging thoughts reminding her she’d never actually-

No. She needed to focus. This was not about you.

She veered the corner, before stopping in her tracks and spinning to face you with a glare. “Are you going to trail after me like a lost puppy or go make yourself of use?” Your face of insignace would be almost comical if she wasn’t so irritated with Thing. “Do as you please. I have business to attend to that will not require your inexperienced assistance.”

You huffed and folded your arms, grumbling something under your breath that the raven was almost positive was something contradicting her statement, but you nodded and turned, heading back down in the direction which you had come.

She threw open the door to her dorm, instantly spotting Thing on Enid’s bed with the blonde herself, discussing a nail care magazine the two were flipping through.

“That’s a good point, Thing, but this green might suit your complexion better,” the werewolf pointed to something on the glossy page, the hand tapping rapidly in response. “I absolutely am an expert at this, Thing, I know more about fashion than you.” A few more taps. “That’s vulgar coming from you.”

Wednesday stormed over to the bed, promptly yanking the magazine out from under Thing and handing it to the bewildered Enid, the appendage tumbling to the floor.

Before he could scuttle away the raven bent down and grabbed Thing in her hands, holding him up to her eye level as she glared at him with murderous intent. “Tell me where you put it or you’ll be receiving another scar to add to your collection.”

The appendage tapped rapidly on her hand, interrupted by Enid who stood and hurried over, laying a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Willa….? What are you doing-?”

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hand as she met Enid’s worried expression, gesturing toward Thing with her head as she hissed, “my typewriter is missing and I wish to know why Thing took it.”

Enid paled slightly, which was confusing to the raven. “Don’t be sensitive, he’ll be receiving the attention that he clearly so desperately wants.”

Wednesday was already reaching into her pocket for her handy pocket blade that she carried on her at all times but was met with Enid’s hand on her wrist. She stiffened slightly and shot the blonde a glare, though she didn’t pull away. “Don’t interfere, Enid, I know what I’m doing.”

Yet, the werewolf didn’t move, eyes wide and face pale, mouth opening as if she wanted to say something before closing her mouth again as her gaze flitted from the hand and then back to her. “You said he took your typewriter?”

Wednesday nodded, pressing the tip of her knife to the crook of Thing’s thumb as she spoke in a dangerously low voice. “Start talking.” The hand responded with rapid and wild gestures, flailing in her hands as the raven’s fingers curled tighter around the appendage, pressing her knife firmly against his thumb, close enough to draw blood. 

“Don’t play dumb, Thing, answer the question. Where. Is. The typewriter?” Wednesday hissed, applying a little more pressure as the hand squirmed, signing wildly. Her grip faltered just slightly at the hand’s pleas; although pathetic and shameful, especially for Thing - they seemed authentic, which caught her off-guard. Shaking off her thoughts, Wednesday pressed the knife back against Thing’s smooth palm.

“It wasn’t Thing-” Enid blurted out, and Wednesday paused, slowly turning her head to stare at the blonde, eyes narrowing slightly. “It wasn’t-” the blonde trailed off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing her neck in what appeared to be an anxious gesture. The raven slowly lowered the hand, already realizing that Enid wasn’t lying. With a reproachful expression she set Thing back down on the bedspread, ignoring the hand’s rapid tappings of indignance.

“Explain. Now.”

Wednesday stared at the Enid with a glare, not budging as she folded her arms and waited for the blonde to explain, exhaling sharply through her nose. The werewolf fidgeted around with a guilty expression before groaning,

“Look, I told her that it was a bad idea, but she didn’t listen-” the blonde pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and guilt, looking back up at Wednesday after a moment as she continued. “And you’re not allowed to murder her, but-” Wednesday didn’t even register the rest of Enid’s sentence as the answer hit her like a stab in the abdomen. You. Of course it was you. Why else would you volunteer to help her when you could’ve been off doing your own thing? That small smile she had always seen on your face when you had offered your advice? Now the mischief and deceit made sense. The fact that you had paled when she’d mentioned getting her revenge on Thing for your crime? How could she have not put the pieces together?

Even more infuriating, your advice and ideas as well as what you had suggested for suspects and information - they had all seemed so valid. How could you of all people be so foolish and yet infuriatingly genius at once? 

It was admirable.

No doubt about it, Wednesday was going to kill you. 

—————

pt.7 here!