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ornii · 2 years

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“Bitterly Beautiful”

Wednesday Addams X Blind Male Reader. Part (1)

• This was a Story i posted on my Wattpad and decided to post it here, also thanks for reading it btw. I decided to use tumblr and well here I am.

Nevermore Academy, founded in 1791, to house and Teach the most, unique, individuals. Some were Vampires, Werewolves, and some even the most otherworldly beings, but there even existed monsters from beyond the bounds of reality. That could not be any more true than the boy who awakens in his dormitory room, he keeps his eyes closed but sits up with a weary yawn. He, without much issue gets dressed in the classic Nevermore uniform, the grimly striped blazer with shirt, tie and sweater combination of black sleek pants. After putting a pair of dark oval glasses on, he turns left and grabs a cane, a very antique design with a steel crow embodied design for the handle. He twirls it and walks to the door and leaves for the morning.

The boy enters a large courtyard, where the sounds of students bellowing, talking, howling, fill his ears. He places a tea cup on the stone table as he walks and sits down upon a stone seat and towards the table. He felt dust brush up against his skin, mostly his face. Not being able to use your eyes has its major disadvantages, but it also provides small bonuses. One was the much more heightened senses of Smell, touch, hearing and taste. Since the lack of eyesight was prominent. The other senses had to work harder to compensate for the loss, so even the slightest brush of wind picking up, he could notice. He removes his glasses and begins to wipe them off, but it was interrupted by a pair of oddly soft hands covering his face, which really does little to stop him.

"Guess Who~" The Mysterious and Cheerful voice asked under a muffled giggle. The boy stopped wiping his glasses and just smiled.

"Enid.. you know that doesn't work, right?" He said, and she lets go, and sits next to him.

"I know, but I didn't want to cover your ears, you couldn't hear me then (Y/n)." She says smiling, this was Enid Sinclair, a Werewolf and overall pretty amazing girl. They met during his first tenure at Nevermore and sort of, Clicked, not intentionally of course. She had her bright bubbly attitude which melted down his more cold and indifferent attitude towards everything and everyone, and now (Y/n) "Views" life in a more, honest fashion. He smiles hearing her voice, and tilts his head slightly to her direction.

"Well, what's new? You're pretty exited.." He asks and he notices her heartbeat is faster than average, and he can just hear the gleaming in her voice.

"I should and called you about it but let me give you the deets, I'm getting a roomie!" She says, and he smiles in response.

"That's great, is someone changing dorms?"

"No, she's transferring from another school, Wednesday Addams! I did. my research and she got expelled from her last school." Enid casually explains, and (Y/n) takes a sip of his Assam black tea, before listening to more of Enids explanation

"Yeah she tossed piranhas into the school pool and a boy lost a testicle." She flatly said which causes (Y/n) to cough up his Tea hearing that.

"E-Enid, are you... sure You want someone like that to Room with you? I think Principal Weems would understand you wanting a transfer."

"What? No! We're going to be the best of friends! I can already picture it! Doing each others hair, nails, talking about all the gossip at Nevermore, the Boys~" Enid was too much in a euphoric mood to listen to reason, (Y/n) simply nodded and acted happy for her, subconsciously worried for her health.

"Well, I hope you have fun then." He said, before the Principal Weems spoke up from behind them.

"Miss Sinclair." She said with this gaudy and proper tone, Enid quickly turns around, and smiles.

"Please, allow me to bring you up to your new Roommate, good morning also to you Mister Healy." She said, turning her attention towards (Y/n), who gives a solemn bow to principal Weems.

"Good Morning Principal." He replies, "Could I ask you what time it is?" He said, and she checks her watch.

"Nearing Seven."

"Ah, well I should get to feeding the crows then." He said, Enid and (Y/n) stand up and she waves him goodbye as she walks off with the Principal, he gives her a small wave back before walking away. He, without much issue, walks over to what seems to look like a Bin, he digs into it and takes out a bag, opening it, was full of an assortment of seeds. He tosses the bag as it opens and spills the seeds, he grabs a handful, and with the other arm, he taps his Cane on the ground twice. The Caws echo from the dead trees outside the Academy. They soar like a platoon of airmen. They land and peck, eating the seeds hungrily.

"You all seem eager, good." He says, and one flies up and lands on his arm. He smiles, it's caw echoes like music to his ears. He soon felt the crow fly off his arms desperately, all the crows fly away as if they're trying to avoid something. He feels a pair of footsteps approach. He acts oblivious until Enids voice comes though like music.

"And this, is (Y/n) Hearly. (Y/n), this is Wednesday Addams." Enid said, he turns around to sense a, dark presence, the sound waves echo and it forms a decent image of the woman standing next to Enid, the aura about her was a sense of utter dread. (Y/n) tries to put it behind him and offers a handshake.

"(Y/n), nice to meet you." He says, she takes it, firmly but her skin felt like ice. Sending chills down his spine he shivers slightly from it. He lets go a bit quickly and motions to the front.

"Welcome to Nevermore—" he begins but she cuts him off.

"You can skip the school Introductions your "Bestie" already informed me. I have no intention to stay here." She said, and Enid tries to make the situation better.

"Anyway, I came to ask if you could help move her stuff to the room!" She says and (Y/n) bows.

"I'd love to help." He says, Wednesday just stares morbidly at him, emotionless, cold. Shes analyzing him, she looks at his cane.

"You're Blind." She Said. And he laughed.

"Oh, how very perceptive of you, yes. I am." He Said, sarcastically, but her eyes still focused.

"You seem much more focused on your surroundings than the average blind person, you probably heard us approaching." She continues.

"Huh, can't get anything past you, can I? A question if I may, what happened at your old school?" He asked, and her response was short but terrifying.

"The only person who gets to torture my brother is me." She replies in that deadpan mundane tone, which sends shivers down his spine, he attempts to play it off.

"Ah, understandable, so... you don't plan to stay? Why not?" He asked, "This was my parents' idea. They've been looking for any excuse to send me here. It's all a part of their nefarious, yet completely obvious plan."

"What plan?" Enid asked.

"To turn me into a version of themselves." She replies, and Enid looks a bit, curious.

"In that case, perhaps you can clear something up. Rumor's been swirling around that you killed a kid at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off." Enid says, and (Y/n) chimes in. "Murder?"

"Actually, it was two kids, but who's counting?" She says, Enid and (Y/n) sees both taken aback by her odd behavior, even for an outcast. "Right.." Enid begins, "Let me give you a wiki on Nevermore's social scene."

"I'm not interested in participating in tribal adolescent clichés."

"Well, then use it to fill your obviously bottomless pit of disdain. There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners and Scales. Those are the Fangs, AKA vampires. Some of them have literally been here for decades. That bunch of knuckleheads are Furs, AKA werewolves. Like me!" Enid says to herself.

"Full moons get pretty loud around here. That's when Furs "wolf out." Id suggest you pick up noise-cancelling headphones, they've saved me ample sleep." (Y/n) says.

"I'm assuming Scales are sirens?" Wednesday said.

"You catch on quick. And that girl, Bianca Barclay, is the closest thing Nevermore has to royalty. Although her crown's been slipping lately. She used to date our resident tortured artist, Xavier Thorpe. But they broke up at the beginning of the semester. Reason unknown." Enid explains, much to Wednesday's uncaring attitude.

"Fascinating. And you?" She asked (Y/n) who gives a bow.

"A Fomorian, we’re..Ancient Tyrants from Ireland." (Y/n) explains, "There isn't many of us, Enids the only one who's really been a good friend to me, others are a bit wary. But they’ve come around, once Enid showed them I’m mot much of a real threat, they became much nicer and understanding thanks to her blog I suppose.” (Y/n) explains.

"I know, right? My vlog is, like, the number one source for Nevermore gossip." She explains, "(Y/n) sadly can't see it." Enid huffs.

(Y/n) leans into Wednesday a bit.

"There are some benefits to being blind. But I must ask, if you do murder people, what do you do with the bodies? Do you.. eat them? You might be a Fur."

"Quite the contrary. I actually fillet the bodies of my victims, then feed them to my menagerie of pets." She stares proverbial daggers at (Y/n), who just laughs, almost in disbelief.

"You.. really are different." He said. "Not that it's a bad thing of course."

"You should really get on Insta, Snapchat and TikTok." Enid says to Wednesday.

"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation." She replies, (Y/n) and Enid share a small glance. "Well, I should get to taking your stuff to your room." (Y/n) says.

"See you adequate enough to not get lost on the way there?" She asked, and he smirks.

"Well, much like you Wednesday..." he says, the Furs begin a food fight and one hurls a peach, flying at him, without even breaking a sweat he catches it. His focus still on Miss Addams.

"I'm very perceptive.."

As (Y/n) and Enid take Wednesdays things to her room, she is forced to say goodbye to her family.

"Look at you, my little deathtrap. Seeing you in this uniform brings back so many terrible memories. Doesn't it, Tish?" Her Father, Gomez. Her illustrious and, profound mother steps up, Morticia.

"Yes. Why don't you boys wait in the car? Wednesday and I need a moment." She said, Pugsley, her less than enthusiastic brother is then approached by Wednesday.

"Pugsley, you're soft and weak. You'll never survive without me. I give you two months, tops." She says, what seems to be nothing but cold insults to some were words of love to him.

"I'm gonna miss you, too, sis." He said, Gomez and pugsley leave, letting Wednesday and Morticia have a solemn stare down.

"Any plans you have of running away end right now. I've alerted all family members to contact me the minute you darken their doorstep. You have nowhere to go."

"As usual, you underestimate me, Mother. I will escape this educational penitentiary, and you will never hear from me again."

The two opposing forces seem so contested. Morticia sighs at her dismayed daughter.

"You are a brilliant girl, Wednesday, but sometimes you get in your own way. I'm sure you'll grow to love Nevermore, and find it as life-changing as I did. Oh, I got you a little something." She continues and hands her an amulet, dark in design.

"W... M. Our initials. It's made of obsidian, which Aztec priests used to conjure visions. It's a symbol of our connection."

"Which one of your spirits suggested this toe-curling tchotchke? I'm not you, Mother. I will never fall in love, or be a housewife, or have a family." Wednesday retorted with scathing remarks, Which Morticia tries not to respond to.

"I'm told girls your age say hurtful things, and I shouldn't take it to heart."

"Fortunately, you don't have one."

"..Finally, a kind word for your mother, We can't talk to you for the first week while you're settling in, so we'll call you next Sunday." She said, giving Wednesday a lovingly look before leaving. What seems to be a "Perfect." Rooming situation has turned into the complete opposite, as Wednesday tore off the colored plastic for the massive circular window within her room, only her side of course, which would have been fine for most people. But Enid isn't, most people.

"What the hell did you do to my room?!" Enid storms into her room after seeing it, which Wednesday calmly turns to her.

"Dividing our room equally. It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side."

"I—"

"Silence would be appreciated. This is my writing time." Wednesday says, sitting at her desk and in front of a vintage typewriter.

"Your writing time?"

"I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same, your vlog might be coherent. I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation."

"I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love."

"Your followers are clearly imbeciles. I'm surprised (Y/n) hasn't poured melting wax into his ears by now listening to it, They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures."

"Uh, you mean, emojis? It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you." Enid reminds, pretty surprising, they approach each other, standing on the edge of their respective sides of the room.

"When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole. By the way, there are two D's in Addams. If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly." Wednesday walked back to her typewriter. Enid, in pure spite, Enid plays pop music, just to annoy the more mundane Wednesday. She twists her head around, Owl like.

"Turn that off. This is your final warning." Wednesday approached, but Enids nails elongated into sharp claws.

"Rawr! Don't mess with me. This kitty's got claws, and I'm not afraid to use them." Enid and Wednesday are at a standoff, neither side giving any leeway, before and guts and glamor could be spilled, the door to their room opens. It was a woman, slightly brunette hair with an, oddly normal flair in terms of most teachers.

"Good evening, girls. Oh, sorry about the mud. I wanted to make sure that Wednesday was settling in. Ah. Is this a bad time? I'm Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome." She said, the two girl momentarily halt their fangs.

"She's been smothering me with hospitality. I hope to return the favor...In her sleep." Wednesday said, which Enid eyes her, Thornhill reveals in her arms a plant, which was oddly black, devoid of color, or life.

"Well, here's a little welcome gift from my conservatory. I try to match the right flower to each of my girls. When I read your personal statement in your application, I immediately thought of this one."

"The black dahlia."

"Oh, you know it?"

"Of course. It's named after my favorite unsolved murder. Thank you." Thornhill looks taken aback by it but tries to keep her composure.

"Okey-dokey. Before I leave, I want to go over a few house rules. Lights off at 10:00, no loud music, and no boys, ever."

"What's the story about going into the local town?" Wednesday asked.

"Passes to Jericho are a privilege, not a right. It's a brisk 25-minute walk, or there's a shuttle on the weekends. The locals are a tad bit wary about Nevermore, so please don't go making any waves, or perpetuating any outcast stereotypes. That means keep your claws to yourself, and no smothering people in their sleep. Are we clear? Great talk." Thornhill leaves, letting Enid and Wednesday alone.

Jericho, the City housing Nevermore have a bit of a history, an unfortunate one at that. Wednesday is being taken to her therapist.

"Dr. Kinbott's office is on the second floor. Other Nevermore students swear by her. Perhaps afterwards we can visit the Weathervane for hot chocolate."

"Principal Weems, this feeble attempt at bonding is beneath you. And chauffeuring your students around is below your pay grade." Wednesdays cold and unfeeling attitude made the Principal a bit, unwary.

"Given your history, I'm sure you're intent on running away. I'm here to prevent that from happening. I wish you luck." Weems says, stopping at the Office. Wednesday enters and to the clean, porcelain white room of her new and kind therapist.

"I read the notes from your school counselor. Mrs. Bronstein." She Said.

"She had a nervous breakdown after our last session and had to take a six-month sabbatical."

"Go ahead and take a seat. How did you feel about that?"

"Vindicated. But someone who crochets for a hobby isn't a worthy adversary."

"Adversary? I hope we can forge a relationship based on trust and mutual respect. This is a safe space, Wednesday. A sanctuary where we can discuss anything. What you're thinking, feeling, your views on the world, personal philosophy."

"That's easy. I think that this is a waste of time. I see the world as a place that must be endured, and my personal philosophy is kill or be killed."

"So, for instance, when someone bullies your brother, your response is to dump piranha in the pool?" She asked, and Wednesday looks a bit pleased with herself.

"You know the old saying, "never bring a knife to a sword fight." Unless it's concealed."

"Point is, you assaulted a boy, and showed no remorse for your actions. That's why you're here."

"He lost a testicle. I did the world a favor. People like Dalton shouldn't procreate. I've answered all your questions." Wednesday stands up but is shut down.

"We're not done yet. Therapy is a valuable tool to help you understand yourself. It can teach you new ways to deal with your emotions. It can also help you build a life that you want."

"I know the life that I want."

"Tell me about it. Everything said in these sessions is strictly confidential. Do your plans involve becoming an author? I understand you've written three novels about a teen girl detective, Viper De La Muerte. Can you tell me about her?" She asked, and Wednesday shows a hint of her true feelings.

"Viper is smart, perceptive, chronically misunderstood."

"Any luck getting your work published?"

"Editors are short-sighted, fear-based life forms. One once described my writing as gratuitously morbid, and suggested I seek psychiatric help. Hmm. Ironic, isn't it?"

"How did you take that?"

"I sent her a "thank you."

Wednesday sends her "Thank You", which was full of mouse traps, heavy steel ones that can and will break bones.

"...I've always been open to constructive criticism." She says with her classic mundane expression.

"I'm glad to hear that. Because I was sent the manuscripts as part of your psych evaluation. The relationship I found most intriguing was that of Viper and her mother, Dominica. Why don't we dig into that? Part of this journey requires us going to uncomfortable places emotionally."

"I don't travel well. Would you mind if I use the powder room first?" She asked, The Therapist kindly obliged and Wednesday enters, and quickly begins to come up with a way to leave.

"Wednesday? Is everything okay? You can't hide for the rest of the session."

"I'm all right. Just preparing myself for our uncomfortable journey." She says, and sneaks out of the window. Entering a local coffee shop, she procures a ride to her freedom. As Wednesday sits at a sit in, she looks out the window to the insignificant lives of those in this town. And her eyes focus on a crow, perched on the window still, looking at her.

"Wednesday." A voice said calmly, she turns forward to (Y/n) sitting calmly across from her, she didn't even hear him approach. She looks back at the crow, which disappears.

"So, new in Town?" He says breaking the Ice.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I just say hello? I would say it's nice to see you but alas, I can't."

"For someone who's blind you're annoyingly focused on your surroundings."

"It's a benefit of being a monster, speaking of, I talked to Enid and she said you and her had a "Disagreement." About something." He begins, but Wednesday quickly shuts him down.

"The Glorified Personification of the 21st Century and I have opposing views, she didn't need to send her blind hound after me."

"Enid doesn't know I'm here, most don't know I'm here. I'm not here to fight you, Wednesday."

"Then what is it that you want from me?" She asks.

"I've heard of the things you've done before at your old school, all I ask that you don't hurt Enid. She, means a lot to me." He said, there was a ping from his coat and he pulls his phone out, Siri reads out a message, but Wednesday notices his phone case was pink, handmade with stickers, it's obvious it was made by a person with a much more, Feminine touch. It has the words "Bestie" bedazzled on it.

"Your phone case oozes insecurity and self deprivation." She said, and he turns his head towards her.

"I was a gift from Enid when I first came here, almost dropped my phone and she caught it, told me I should be more careful and, we just started talking. So she made this for me, Heh, always protecting me." He tilts his head up back at Wednesday.

"All I'm asking is that you is to be, well not nice but, just sociable to her, she's not a bad person. And she was really excited about you coming." (Y/n) explains, and Wednesday for a moment hesitates for an answer.

"I'll.. consider your request."

"Thank you—"

"Under one condition... you tell me what you truly are… i doubt your story of who you truly are.” she says. His attitude softens and he sighs, and he places his cane on the table.

"I'm not just a Fomorian, but a cursed one.. you know the Tale of Balor? The War Tyrant who's evil eye cursed whatever it laid its eyes upon, that's.. me. I'm Balor. Just reborn as a human thankfully, but the eyes still linger, but when your eyes can literally cause the destruction of the world, ...Drastic measures have to be taken. And my parents.." he continues, his voice getting a bit, somber.

"They Blinded you." Wednesday says, finishing the story.

"Thus the Tragic tale of Balor of Nevermore.." (Y/n) said, he couldn't see it, but he felt Wednesdays silence somehow, for a girl not lacking an arsenal of insults, she was quiet.

"Your Story...is tragic, they feared your power and tried to shut it down. You kept up your side of the Bargain so I will keep mine. I'll.. try to refrain from harming your Pet." She said, he sighs from her declaration.

"She's not my... whatever; thank you." He says, he turns to face the window.

"Some advice Wednesday, The Normies of Jericho, avoid Em, they don't see you as another human being, they see you as.. a "Freak." He said, while Wednesday couldn't see his eyes, she could feel the anger and spite forming from his words. Soon, the doors open from the Coffee shop to three teenagers, dressed as Pilgrims, they notice the Nevermore students.

"Hey, boys, check it out. Who's that?"

"Bro... Come on."

"What's a Pair of Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?"

"This is our booth."

"Why are you dressed like religious fanatics?" Wednesday said, much to the Chagrin of the Teens.

"We're pilgrims."

"Potato, po-tah-to." She responds.

"We work at Pilgrim World." One said.

"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide." She says, they approach Menacingly and (Y/n) stood up and tried to act peacefully.

"Cmon, guys there's no reason for us to act like this, we're just trying to enjoy our evening." (Y/n) said, the three scoff.

"The Freaks trying to weasel his way out of it." One said.

"Yeah, I don't think the Freak can see." Another laughs, and (Y/n) tries to keep his composure; leaning a bit on his Cane.

"Cmon, just leave us—" one, taking it too far sweeps his cane, forcing him to trip. He falls on his hands and knees and they laugh. Wednesday said nothing as they did, but she slowly stood up. Her glare catching the concern of them.

"It's fine.. Wednesday." (Y/n) says calmly, he takes his cane and stands back up, he walks over to the door, and with a swift motion, locks it. He turns to the boys.

".. Call me a Freak... One more time." He says, and they laugh at the blind one.

"Aww, gonna Cry? Call your Mommy? Or; are you gonna get your little creepy girlfriend to beat us up, better luck next Time, Freak." One said, they laughed once more, before the steel of the raven came went tying into his forehead, knocking him out, it's in the air and the other two look, (Y/n) comes running full speed, he jumps into the air, catches it and cracks another in the face, one begins to swing at him but he, with almost instinct, dodges and ducks each punch, before stomping on his foot, making him leap on one, he gut checks him with the steel end of the cane, he fails to one knee, gasping for air, he cocks back and swings, knocking him out as well. The three bodies lie on the ground, he adjusts his suit and uniform and walks to the door and unlocks it.

"Now, try and behave." He said, before the Sheriff, a gruffly man perhaps in his late 50s to early 60s.

"Tyler, the hell's going on in here?" He asked, turning his attention to the young man tending to the counter.

"They were harassing a customer, and he put them in their place." He said, the Sherrif looks to the young blind boy.

"This blind kid took down three boys? Did you help him?"

"Dad, I swear, I wasn't involved." Tyler says, and Weems enters as well; and looks Surprised to see (Y/n) and Wednesday.

"Apologies, Sheriff. These two slipped away from me. Come on, Mister Healy, Miss Addams, time to go." She says and the two begin to leave, before the Sheriff stops them.

"Wait a minute, hang on. You're an Addams? Don't tell me Gomez Addams is your father? That man belongs behind bars for murder. Hm...I'm gonna keep my eye on you." he says to them, and with those puzzling words, they leave, and Weems is more than miffed at them.

"Your first day and you're already on Sheriff Galpin's radar. Wish I could say I was surprised, and sneaking out of ground Mister Healy?"

"I caught the wrong shuttle; I apologize.. Wednesday found me and brought me to the cafe before we were accosted by those men." He said covering for her. "How kind of her." Weems said, somewhat buying the plausible explanation.

"What did he mean about my father?" Wednesday said.

"I have no idea, but a word of advice. Stop making enemies and start making a few friends. You're going to need them." Weems replies, their drive continues down to Nevermore, but slowly passing a car crash, a horrid one at that.

"Looks like an accident. I hope the driver's okay"

"He's dead. Broke his neck." Wednesday said, looking at the body. It's off How she could tell from the angle she had.

Night Falls upon Nevermore and while many of its students revel in the Darkness, some prefer to stay indoors with said activities. Such is Wednesday, who's haunting Cello tunes echo all throughout Nevermore, it especially reached the Ears of (Y/n), who stood at his rooms window, listening to the elegant but haunting tunes, and he had to get in closer. With a tap of his Cane, a crow bellows to his aid, he whispers into its ear and it flies off to the unknown. Wednesday ends her performance, and talks to someone.

"No, I don't really feel better. There's just something wrong about this place. Not just because it's a school." She says, and the taps of wood are heard, and Wednesday looks at the standing holding the music notes to a dismembered Hand, which was sown together. It somehow was, alive. Enid enters the Balcony as well.

"How the hell did you get that oversized violin out the window?" She asked and Wednesday turns towards her.

"I had an extra hand." She said deadpanned, and shows Thing.

"Whoa. Where's the rest of him?" She asks.

"It's one of the great Addams family mysteries." Wednesday said, and she hears the baying and howling of Werewolves in Nevermore.

"Why aren't you wolfing out?" Wednesday asks enid

"Because I can't." She says, she shows her growing finger nails, "It's all I got. My mom says some wolves are late bloomers, but I've been to the best Lycanologist. I had to fly to Milwaukee, would you believe it? Yeah, she says there's a chance I may never... you know."

"What happens then?"

"I'd become a lone wolf."

"Sounds perfect."

"Are you kidding me? My life would be officially over. I'd be kicked out of my family pack with no prospect of finding a mate." Enid says, holding back tears, Wednesdays looks off the balcony as well, seeing (Y/n) cleaning out a large bird cage.

"I doubt that, one mate would be walking into walls at the moment, I'm failing to see the problem here."

"I could die alone." Enid says.

"We all die alone, Enid."

"You really suck at this. Cheering people up." Enid says and cries, not able to hold it back.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm upset! Haven't you ever cried, or are you above that too?" Enid said obviously upset.

"It was the week after Halloween. I was six years old. I took my pet scorpion, Nero, out for his afternoon stroll, and we were ambushed. They wondered what kind of freak would have a scorpion for a pet. Two of them held me down and made me watch...while the others ran Nero over until... It was snowing when I buried what was left of him. I cried my little black heart out. But tears don't fix anything. So I vowed to never do it again. " Wednesday explains her story, and Enid, now seeing that she isn't some cold machine, feels for her.

"Your secret's safe with me. Still think you're weird as shit, though."

"The feeling is incredibly mutual. How would you like your single room back? You just need to show me how to use your computer." Wednesday said, which confuses Enid.

"Okay?.." she says and leads her in, after some basic instruction on "How To Internet." Wednesday is able to pull on a web chat with someone; the guy who ram the cafe, Tyler.

"Uh... hi."

"That's Thing. Is he, like, your pet? Look, I know Nevermore is ground zero for all things weird, but this is next-level. So, what happened to not wanting to be a slave to technology?"

"Desperate times. Are you still willing to help me escape?"

"After what happened today, I figured they'd have you in solitary."

"There's the Harvest Festival this weekend. Attendance is mandatory. I'm going to use it as a cover. If you're willing to drive me to the station, I can make it worth your while." Wednesday said, and Tyler obliges.

"I'm in. And no charge. Consider it a freebie."

"Why? "

"Cause I wish I was going with you. At least one of us will get out of this hellhole town."

The First day of the Weekend begins with the Harvest Festival, a crowning achievement for Jericho and their very urban and more down to earth festival of carnival and games. Wednesday and Enid stand before each other, watching Tyler argue with his father.

"Are you sure you can trust that normie?"

"I trust that I can handle myself. I don't want you talking to her."

"Well, good luck and safe travels." Enid offers a hug, much to the chagrin of Wednesday. "Still not a hugger." Enid walks away, leaving Wednesday to escape, but as she turns around, a crow watches from a building, and (Y/n) sits calmly on a bench, drinking a soda. And Wednesday can tell.

"The Fool is following me, fortunately he makes it easy to point out." She says and they walk off. He stands up to follow but with all the sounds, his hearing cannot focus and he must console them eyes of another, but even then, it's not enough to go on, he halts as he gets a hint, Wednesday breaks off from Tyler and chase someone into the forest. He begrudgingly attempts to give chase, listening to the sounds and impacts, what caught him off guard were the horrid screams of death and despair, he picks up the speed.

"Wednesday?! Wednesday!" He yells, he halts as he feels himself nearby something, he slams his cane against a tree and like a sonar, it brings it all to a picture, and more importantly the corpse lying on the ground and Wednesday nearby.

"... Wednesday.. what the Hell Happened?" He asked, she takes something and walks over to him.

"We don't have much time, and I'd rather discuss this without a corpse nearby, as much as that upsets me." She says, and the Boy sadly agrees, on the balcony of her dorm room, he gets most information.

"A monster? That killed Rowan? But there aren't any in Nevermore I can think of, but why was Rowan attacking you? How does this all connect?" He asks pacing around.

"I will need to do some investigating on my own, I can assume you and I share a common goal now. You wish to keep your Pet safe. And I want to understand why I am tied into this all." Wednesday explains, (Y/n) stops and turns to her.

"Again, not my Pet, and her safety is important to me, just as much as yours Wednesday."

"I can take care of myself."

"Obviously... I Never Said you couldn't, but it's never wrong to have someone who wants to help you." (Y/n) says. "I'll help because you're in danger, and I don't want my friends in danger.

"We're Not Friends."

"Not yet.. so, what all has happened?" (Y/n) asks.

"Let's see. I narrowly avoided death twice, discovered that my father may be a murderer, learned that I could potentially destroy the school, and was mysteriously saved by a homicidal monster. As much as it pains me to admit, mother was right."

"Right about what?" (Y/n) asks, and Wednesday responds.

"This school. I think I'm going to love it here." She says and has the smallest smirk on her face.

#wednesday addams x male reader #netflix #male reader #blindness #enid sinclair #wedensday x you #Wednesday #Wednesday x Reader #reader insert

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cherrysweather · 1 month

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hi do you think you could do a miles edgeworth x reader where reader comforts edgeworth during or after an earthquake ? maybe angst/comfort :) tysm!

Hello Anon, I'm glad to be writing again! Apologies for the late response, but I hope you're still around to read this :')

(Requests are now open again :D)

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Comforting Miles Edgeworth during an earthquake:

Ever since the death of his father, Miles has always tried to avoid places where earthquakes are known to occur;

But with his constant traveling, he sometimes can't avoid it;

So when he's most insecure, he likes to bring you along, knowing that your presence alone is soothing enough for his terror;

Even if he knows that he's scared and knows how he behaves, he still cannot avoid fleeing to the first spot he deems safe enough and stays there, paralyzed;

He hates being in that state, remembering all the times it blocked him even at work;

But the worst times are when earthquakes strike where he thinks they're rare, like his home;

However, he noticed that whenever you were around, everything was easier, he would calm down faster and his reactions were milder;

He'll probably never recover from the trauma, so finding you was the best thing that could happen to him.

Miles set the freshly brewed tea on the table as he waited for you to return from the kitchen, sat on the chair and adjusted his glasses before pouring the drink into each of your cups.

"Which one did you prepare? Darjeeling again? Or the usual Earl Grey?" as you finally emerged from the room next door, drying your hands with a dishcloth, Miles felt a little tug on his lips and moved a chair closer to his, instead of in front of it. "It's the one I brought you from India, it's a green tea mix of Sencha and Assam, so it's a little less intense than a black one" he gently guided you by hand to sit "So I'm not allowed to add any sugar?" "Nu-uh" he sipped his cup, as his muscles melted on the seat.

Miles loved this moment of the week; after a long, usual day of work, he could relax all the time wanted, knowing tomorrow was a full rest. He would usually read one of his books, or a file case -if in a better mood- and just wait to fall asleep. Luckily, now with your company, he could also have pleasant conversations with someone equally lovely.

The time flew by between a teapot-amount of tea, some discussions about work, hobbies and a very long parenthesis about Miles' recent new assistants in his investigations. You moved on the couch and searched for something to watch as Miles took the tea set and brought it to the kitchen.

However, everything paused when the lights suddenly went out "Miles? Stay where you are, I'll go take the torch" You carefully moved around the apartment, making your hands go first. All the other buildings outside were in total blackout, so the research for the torch was sped up, feeling something bad was arriving.

Feeling that was confirmed mere seconds later, sensing the earth under your feet and the furniture around starting to tremble, first imperceptible, but soon became a true quake. Your first thought went to Miles. Found the torch, as everything trembled, the sound of many pieces of porcelain crashing to the ground of the other room made your guts fall to the ground, and your body followed soon enough.

You had to stay still until the tremors weakened enough to stand up again and rush to the kitchen, making way with the light in hand. As soon as all the ceramics on the ground were spotted, you searched for Miles and undoubtedly found him huddled under the table, quivering and protecting his head with his arms.

Miles froze on the spot when the light blacked out, holding tight to the tray with the tea set, but as soon as the smallest tremor hit his feet, he started shaking and searched somewhere to hold on, but a horrific shake made him fall to the ground, crashing everything in hands and banging his head on some counter. The already black vision didn't help his attempts to not go back to that elevator, all he could do was hug himself as strongly as possible and reach the first wall to have some sort of support around. When a light was pointed at his face, he somewhat understood that he was not inside the elevator, but his head couldn't come out of there.

"Miles! Miles are you hurt?!" you kneeled beside him and tried to "unlock" his head from the protection he created "Miles, it's okay, we're safe, it's gone" you attempted to make him better see around, but he was elsewhere right now, shaking uncontrollably and barely breathing. Nothing comforting worked, between cuddles and gentle whispers, he went increasingly apnoea and tears started falling.

To avoid panicking, you forced his hands away from his face, making him look at you, softly shaking his shoulders to make him inhale air again "Miles please, breathe with me, everything is all right" You found his hand and almost instinctively he clasped his hand with all his strength around yours.

Luckily, lights started to come back to the buildings outside, and when the kitchen ones turned on again, you turned Miles' face towards yours, seeking for any potential injuries, which were more than visible on his temple "I have to get something for your head, you're bleeding" you applied soft pressure on it, but instantly understood that no one was moving soon

Miles remained rigid for some more minutes before slowly coming back to earth. He finally recognized his kitchen and your hand, which up until three seconds ago was the gun he had thrown all those years ago. His mouth wouldn't open, his eyes wouldn't stop leaking tears and his body wouldn't stop shaking; all he managed to do was climb on your legs, searching for a safe position and trying to stabilize his breathing.

You slowly dragged his body from under the table, moving with him until a wall could be used as a backrest, covering his body with your own to give comfort and warmth. Your free hand gently stroked his locks while the one Miles held, kindly caressed his fingers. "Everything is okay Miles, as long as I'm here you're safe, nothing will ever happen to you again" Your thumb cleared his eyes of tears and slipped along his cheeks, allowing Miles to finally relax against you, keeping his eyes open to not permit his mind to play tricks.

"I'm sorry, I hate being like this" he mumbled and tried to straighten his back, loosening the grip on your hand "Don't even start, you're doing so good and it's not your fault. When you're ready we can go to bed and try to forget all this" You shushed him when he tried to talk again, probably about the tea set or the "nuisance" he's causing you "I don't know… if I want to sleep" he softly sobbed, holding his head where it banged "Everything could be worse, and my head is hurting like crazy" he fell again against your body, hiding himself where nothing could see all the overbearing emotions on his features "We'll do whatever you want, just don't hide. The only thing I ask is that you let me aid that wound on your head" You sighed and watched yourself around, noticing that almost all the other cups in the cupboards were destroyed, but everything outside Miles was a tomorrow problem "It's ok, just… stay with me".

It took another two hours to pull Miles up that floor, dragging him to bed first and convincing him to get in his comfortable clothes after "You don't want to try and sleep?" his head was finally patched and massaged carefully to relieve some pain "Not now, if I get asleep, good, otherwise I prefer staying vigilant for any other earthquakes" Miles melted against you, trying his best to listen to your advice and get some sleep, trying to forget what happened and how the perfect evening was ruined in the worst way possible "You can ask for some days off if you want to re-do this stolen time; I'm sure Gumshoe would help your request" Your mind could read his thoughts, and caught the opportunity to let his head wander somewhere else "I hate to skip work for such futile motives; my weakness shouldn't obstruct my work" "Oooh yes, sorry Mr. Chief Prosecutor, the office will crumble on its own weight without you" Your hands kept cuddling him softly enough to stimulate his sleep.

Miles stayed still and silent, eyes closed, ignoring the pain in his head and everything else around, and inside his thoughts. He'll never recover, he knows that perfectly, but if the reserved treatment every time was like this, he could learn to handle better his trauma, and learn how to be properly thankful for what life is finally granting him, not just inflicting; you.

#ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney headcanon #ace attorney headcanons #miles edgeworth #miles edgeworth headcanons #miles edgeworth x reader

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ocibuloc · 13 days

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Best Picnic Spots of Upper Assam | Unique and Famous place

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themonotonysyndrome · 2 years

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Desmond verse - Hell hath no fury - for she is here

An Ask on Tumblr led me to write this oneshot in a single night. The writing frenzy was super fun though!

A huge shoutout to Deadmeme Jack, another awesome writer in this fandom (read her fics. They're awesome!). She literally sat down on a Discord call with me for more than 4 hours to help edit through this fic. I've learned a lot from her and had so much fun! So thank you, Jack! You're the Queen of Beta Readers everywhere!

Tagging: @moonandstarlightsposts @itsdaifuku @neptune-cinths @theealluringstoryteller @the-bewitching-hour-at-4 @daveyistheloml

Summary: Before she’s a woman, Celica is the Imperial Baroness of the Coastal Empire first and foremost. But when her dignity as a woman is wounded, she’s more than happy to remind Rhett, Castin, and every Intacians present why a woman’s wrath is akin to hellfire.

A ‘what if’ oneshot where after being publicly humiliated during her Intacian debut and being told not to make a scene, Baroness Anesidora refuses to hold her tongue.

Celica could remember the day her world shifted on its perfect axis.

Ezekiel greeted her morning, carrying a pot of Black Assam and a pink diamond necklace tucked in a velvet box - the first piece made from her mines and a promising start to a profitable collection. Tea and gems - a wonderful combination that would brighten any woman’s day.

Only for her best friend (who had been missing for months) to quite literally crash through her bedroom window (which was most definitely not on the ground floor), startling the poor maids solely to confess that she had fallen in love with a man - A Witch Hunter of all things!

Yes, the Baroness knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Though she still called the doctor to check her brain and later the Exorcist. Just for good measure. Once her friend was deemed ‘somehow - actually sane’. She deemed it a good measure for all to wash up.

Clad in her freshly steamed bathrobe (“Thank you, Ezekiel”), the maids resumed preparing the Baroness for the day ahead, Celica kept her mind open as Isolde Vermillion waxed on and on about her and Rhett’s vision for Intacia and the Coastal Empire. About how future generations deserve to grow up without centuries of war looming above their heads and that peace is long overdue. She hums when needed, nodded at some of the points that would benefit the Anesidora Household in the long run and even humoured Isolde’s tales of her misadventures.

However, those weren’t enough to quell her anger over Isolde’s abduction. Even if something allegedly good came out of it.

“It’s clear that the two of you put lots of thought into this,” The Baroness remarked, faux blithe. In front of the vanity mirror, she struggles to muster a smile when one of the maids delicately drapes the new necklace around the column of her neck. In apropos of nothing, Celica asks, “That reminds me, have you heard of the rose bushes they planted at the academy grounds recently? Rumour has it that they are fast becoming a romantic spot for couples.”

The smile on the Water Ascendant’s face froze. She put down the cup of tea and exhaled slowly, understanding the true nature behind the Baroness’ words. Gambling, mind games and layered conversations - the favourite pastime of Imperial Nobility, her friend being no different. Isolde began to choose her words wisely as Celica dismissed her maids with a stilted smile and soft tilt of her head.

“I… I know it doesn’t make sense, but after everything I’ve been through, I understand that Rhett is actually a good man. He’s far from perfect, but his heart is always in the right place, his head is always thinking about what’s best for his country and people. But he also carries a lot of regret for what he did as a Witch Hunter, Celica. The assault at the academy? Those deaths? It’s all because of this-this forsaken war! Both sides are equally the sinner and victim, you do agree don’t you?” The Ascendant implored her, beautiful green eyes all but begging.

Celica said nothing. Truth be told, she couldn’t have cared less about the war since it has never affected her or her business. That is, until Isolde’s disappearance frightened her enough to learn everything she could about the Witch Hunter’s organisation and Intacia’s standing in the war. Pushed her enough to smuggle a group of Ascendants to Intacia’s naval base just so they could rescue Isolde. And if the worst came to be, avenge her best friend by any means necessary.

“I don’t care about the war, Isolde. I care about you,” The Baroness genuinely admits, causing the other woman to flinch, eyes wide in shock. Shock, as if she hadn’t considered the content of the characters of those who stood beside her.

‘Of course, she wouldn’t have’.

“You know of my duties. You know I must put the welfare of the Empire and her Royal Family first. Most people don’t even know a war is going on right now. But you and Reyes are the only friends that I have - Do you understand how scared for your life I was when you disappeared, Isolde? How, even now, as we’re sitting together for the first time in months, I am desperately trying to understand how you could ever fall in love with your enemy?” She tried not to spit out the words, but she could feel some of her loathing seep through.

Such framing seemed selfish. Perhaps because she was raised without parents to love her and moulded by the strict and indifferent Imperial customs throughout her life; a dark part of her refuses to feel guilty about said selfishness. Call it nurture or nature it does not matter, everything considered the Baroness possessively protects those she cares for.

It was the honesty in that selfishness - perhaps even the vulnerability - that Isolde appreciated. Likewise, even reciprocated. Pushing herself off the settee to kneel in front of the Baroness, Isolde placed her hands on top of Celica’s.

“Then, as your best friend, I beg you, give Rhett a chance. Try to understand that he’s more than just an enemy; he’s the man I love. A man that will bring an end to this war. We just need your help to make it happen.” She squeezed her hands with fondness. “I believe in him. I believe the future we can make together, and I want you there with me.”

And because Isolde is one of hers, Celica closed her eyes and nodded once. Setting the motions that utterly destroyed her old life.

***

Today is the same day that Isolde returned to her a month ago. It seemed longer given all that had happened. Only this day marks an important occasion for everyone involved.

In a land where commoners, warriors and politicians could mingle and receive first-hand news on where Intacia was heading in the future, information was the new great power - if only by becoming a more visible player in the game of politics. Something the new monarchs were keenly aware of as they made the arrangements for Celica’s debut. Celica’s own political machinations had been kept hidden from the public eye. Yet, no matter how quiet Celica’s arrival was, rumours still spread like wildfire; an Imperial Noble was amongst them. Keeping things under wraps became more difficult the longer Celica was kept hidden. A fine balance was to be struck; too rushed a debut would inspire disaster in a country that held great animosity towards her stature, whilst too delayed would leave them losing the upper hand it granted them should she be exposed.

Tonight, the royal palace was alive with music and buzzing excitement. Food and drinks are plenty for all, with everyone enjoying themselves. Most of them were blatantly staring at Celica from afar. She had been instructed earlier to rest at the quiet corners of the banquet, completely covered from head to toe in her white dress, tight puffed sleeves with a beautifully ornate lace as the chest piece.

No one dared approach her.

The Baroness was just mentally debating fixing herself a plate of macaroons from the table when King Rhett - her best friend’s enemy, kidnapper and husband - decided to make himself known with a neat bow.

It would have been considered quite polite by Imperial standards. Had he not also made a concerted effort to stare into her eyes beyond the embroidered veil. ‘It’s not their culture’ She assured herself, ignoring the nagging doubt in her mind that Isolde would have already taught him this.

“Baroness, a word?”

Celica gave him a curt nod. Together they stepped away from listening ears.

He continued;

“The Queen wanted me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t be here,” Celica felt her heart sink just a little at that. “But we both wanted to thank you again for your cooperation. I know this is likely not what you imagine for yourself, but the sacrifice you are making is deeply appreciated.”

From behind her veil, Celica stared coldly. “I’ve not decided yet.”

The once Witch Hunter caught his blunder. “Right. That is if you choose to go through it.”

The Baroness shifted her attention to the crowd before her, lightly tugging at the veil obscuring her view. Somewhat surprisingly, he seemed to notice her annoyance at the itchy fabric.

“Yes. I’m sorry about the veil; I know it is dumb. But it’s an Intacian tradition, and we must humour the old men. Your future husband must not see you until I present you to him.”

She tried not to be irritated by his comment. Regardless of the outright duplicity veils had in her culture beyond death - she had agreed to this. Did he not know? Veils were considered so duplicitous to her own people, that it was downright cheating! Only acceptable in the height of mourning. Yet, here she was, doing him the favour of disregarding her own people’s traditions for his. Repeating Isolde’s words in her mind, she tried to assure herself. ‘Of course, he couldn’t know, it’s not like he’s our king. Surely he only meant to comfort me rather than highlight my own frustration to everyone? To assure me as opposed to belittling both people's traditions?’ Her self-assurance was apparently lacking.

The topic of her husband and arranged marriage has only been discussed twice, and both times were brought to the table by Rhett. The man assures her that he has someone that could match her in every way, including status, but he’s also held his tongue from speaking any further. As if not to spook her. Celica would pardon him if he was one of her servants, but the withheld information did nothing to endear this new King Rhett to her.

“What kind of man is he?”

“Well, uh… his name is Castin. Castin Hammer, and as I’m sure you’ve heard, he’s a dear friend of mine. Were it not for his support of him and his fighting men, we may have not succeeded in uniting our nations.”

“I see. So I take it he’s rather good?”

“He’s a great warrior, in fact. Among the best in Intacia.” King Rhett boasted, pride dripping from every word for his friend - blatantly missing her own ‘praise’ and the opportunity to quip with her. Perhaps he was hoping to appease and nurture a sense of curiosity within the Baroness - something young children from Noble Household’s often do during playtime to win over their friends.

She could imagine how an Imperial King might react, something closer to ‘other than being my First Commander? He’s decent.’ But Rhett was not just an Imperial King consort - but an Intacian King. She would have to adjust. Celica, not for the first time held back a sigh; she felt far too old to play this sort of childish game.

“Where is he?”

King Rhett frowned. The Baroness’ succinct questions reflected a tempestuous mood, and he knows he must manage that well. “I… don’t know. He should’ve been here already.” He then beckons one of the younger workers.

“Messenger.”

“Yes, King Rhett?”

“Go. Find out what’s keeping Castin.”

The messenger bowed once - perfect in his politeness - before making himself scarce. King Rhett resumes their conversation.

“Listen, before he arrives, I must tell you, Castin is, uh, how can I say… a guarded man. It may take time and patience to bring him out of his shell.”

‘Finally’ she thought, ‘something intriguing about him’.

“So he’s a shy, great warrior?”

King Rhett hesitantly shook his head. “No. I did not mean it in that way. He’s… definitely not shy, but - ”

Suddenly, the large entrance door pushes open, and the messenger returns. “King Rhett, presenting First Army Commander, Castin Hammer.”

Celica could see how her best friend’s husband - finally slipped into his kingly persona, though it would’ve made her etiquette teacher massage her forehead in its obviousness. Back ramrod straight, chin up and eyes, front; it was as though Castin was commanding him. He walked forward - at least his gait did not seem haltered.

As Rhett took the proverbial stage, conversations tapered off.

“Commander Castin, thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, of course, King Rhett. Sorry, I’m late.”

In the background, a woman boldly interjects. “Asshole!” Her friends giggle. Something begins to itch beneath the Baroness’ skin.

King Rhett cleared his throat - without meaning to, yet acknowledging them. That itch steadily spreads.

“Castin, our new nation owes you a debt it cannot repay. As a friend, I would like to thank you for the sacrifices you’ve made to get us here.”

“Yeah, of course, don’t sweat it.”

At this point, it clearly must be Intacian manners.

“And now, I ask you to make another.” King Rhett paused to address the crowd, staring each of them in the eye. “I know many of you have reservations about our union with our former Imperial enemies - ”

Immediately, the audience began to stir. A few people murmuring that ‘reservations’ are too mild of an understatement, yet still, King Rhett took it all in stride. “It is OK. Do not hide it. Get out in the open what we are all thinking. I know many of you secretly talk about it among yourself. You are angry over the centuries of war that come from the Empire's constant aggression. Angry over the suffering and devastation brought upon by the Ascendants. And you have every right to be.”

What a bold move. One that put his Imperial guest in great jeopardy should he lose said audience’s reins. She doubted very much that the strapped dagger on her thigh would hold more than one off.

“But know that staying angry will not change the past. We’ve won. But seeking revenge will only result in more suffering. It is time we end this cycle that’s been repeating for centuries now. Put away the grudges and start building a new future where war on this continent is a thing of the past.” His attention returned to Castin once more, who seemed more interested in what was behind her veil than his king’s speech. “Castin, I am asking you to contribute to that future.”

Celica's shoulders are poised, tensed in a way that seems elegant to the people surrounding her.

When King Rhett offers her an arm, she could have screamed at the inelegance. ‘He’s Isolde’s husband, not mine! It would not be against either custom to offer his arm as the father of his country to a guest, in fact, it would be rather flattering to hold the king’s arm. But given the context and the lack of his queen, it was as if he was already giving me away as a war bride!’

Still, to refuse would be to refuse His Majesty.

Tentatively, she held on as lightly and gently as she could as he escorted her to the centre of the hall, where Castin and his troops stood. The King, not his messenger, made the personal introduction. “Presenting the Imperial Baroness Anesidora and personal friend of the Queen.” He then leaned closer to her, whispering - “Now, take off the veil!”

Expression perfectly schooled and hands steady as ever, the Baroness pulls back the white cover. Gasps erupted among the crowd and awed murmurs travelling across the hall. Even Castin seemed taken aback. It reminded her vaguely of her first débutante. A familiar feeling in a foreign land - but people were people.

The audience seemed enraptured, King Rhett continued. “Now, Castin - ”

“Nah, it’s OK, Rhett. I can take it from here.” Commander Hammer intervenes. The itch makes Celica restless now when the King side-steps so that the Intacian warrior may approach closer.

“Baroness. You’re even more… dazzling up close.” He says with an easy swagger. A line that had been fed to the Baroness from those wanting to take advantage of her many times before. So not a good start. But his next sentence starts to wear her already dangerously thin patience. “How’s it going, sweetheart? I’m Castin. Castin Hammer”

Already, she found her perception of the Commander souring. ‘The audacity of this man! Addressing me using anything but my title?’

“It’s a pleasure.” Celica blatantly lied through pursed lips though it seems it flew over his head, for Castin smiles roguishly.

“Nah, the pleasure is all mine.” His eyes barely concealed the lust brewing, and if this was her manor, Celica would’ve hit him with the bottle that had allowed only inebriation could let slip such a tone. No - actually, Ezekiel would have done it for her.

But the game is still on, so Celica kept her rage to a simmer. “Commander - ”

“Oh, c’mon, you can leave off all that Commander stuff.”

“...Leave it?” Celica repeats, incredulousness creeping into her tone.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Titles don’t mean anything here, anyway. You can just call me Castin.” The man assures her. Almost eager, in fact, which doesn’t sit well with the Baroness. Titles meant boundaries and boundaries meant room to run for the fucking exit. In an esteemed and elegant manner of course.

“I’d rather not, Commander… Castin. Though I will concede your surname.” Perhaps such a pun would be inexcusable at home. Though she doubted Castin had noticed her refusal of his surname already.

Rather than put off like she had hope, Castin chuckled instead. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

“Castin, I believe you had an offer for the Baroness?” King Rhett interrupts.

That apparently snapped Castin back to reality. “Right. Your Grace… I would like to give you pretty much everything I have. My lands, my army, my money - all of it. To you and this new country you’re trying to build. All I want in return is that you agree to be my wife.”

‘What an arrogant form of confession.’ She thought to herself. ‘His lands? Household Anesidora owns a mountain with rich mines. His army? Eaton is an Air Ascendant and her one-man army. His money? She was willing to bet that she makes more monthly than Castin makes annually. And that’s just from her gems alone.’ She side-eyed King Rhett, wondering if the man ever informed his friend exactly who she is. She could excuse such arrogance if he had also been kept as naive as her.

She doubted it though.

Castin cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, Rhett, I brought the Baroness a gift. Can I give it to her?”

Before Celica could even open her mouth, King Rhett spoke for her. “Of course! How thoughtful of you.”

Fingers clenching tightly on her dress, the Baroness repeats Isolde’s plea for Rhett in her mind. The blatant disrespect from both men is cracking her patience, and the itch for her poisoned dagger is becoming overwhelming.

Oblivious to the Baroness’ pale knuckles, Castin signals his men. “Bring it here, boys.” One of the warriors marched forward to hand over a box to Castin, who in return, proceeded to present it to Celica. “Here you go, sweetheart. This is for you.” He says and waited expectantly. Pushing a receiver to unravel a present from them in public is a form of rudeness that would make the Imperial Nobles banish Commander Hammer from any future party invitations.

But this was Intacia and she was a guest. Intacian culture meant she could open it later but with all eyes on her and expectant, she was not to be given that choice apparently. Celica began to untie the ribbons on the box.

“Hopefully, it’s the start of a long and exciting relationship.” He added with a strange grin. Like stating a joke that only he knew.

Soon enough, though, the Baroness realised why. The audience gasped again, only this time, in shock and glee at her expense when Celica held up a skimpy lingerie. The glass is shattered, and the itch overwhelms her. Her heart is pounding painfully against her ribcage the longer she stares at the offending piece while King Rhett hissed out, “Castin! What is this!?”

“What? It’s for our marriage bed.” Castin nonchalantly defended himself. Laughter from the crowds rings painfully in the Baroness’ ears.

“What have you done?” King Rhett presses lowly; indignation coloured his tone.

‘Was he stupid? Of course, Castin knew what he had done. Finally, the Intacian mob could witness Imperial humiliation in the flesh.’ All at her expense! She didn’t even care about the stupid war!

But Castin ignored him in favour of the Baroness - delighting in her indignity. How could she go home with this above her head? The Armistice would be over by midnight!

“So, Baroness, what do you think? You know this is genuine Steelgate silk? I’d just figure it might add a little something-something to the wedding night.”

‘Whether a sadist or simply stupid - it would be a cruel fate if I married him.’

King Rhett immediately turned to the Baroness, hands about to grasp her but catches himself back at the last seconds. “Please, forgive him. I-I told you he is - ”

With a serene expression, Celica lowered her right lingerie-clenching hand and raised her left- slapping Castin as hard as she could. His chin whips towards the audience as silence descended into the hall.

“Oh, shit.” a distant voice sounded. Her hand stung triumphantly as Castin turned back to look at her. Smirk freshly wiped from his face.

King Rhett cursed as Castin blinked before asking “What? Did you just slap me?”

“Oh, no.” The King whined, but it was too late.

Castin began to grin again - but his eyes narrowed at her. “I didn’t realise you Imperial women were so… prudish. You know how expensive that is?”

Sadistic more so than stupid it seems. A cruel fate indeed.

Celica wordlessly stuffed the lingerie back into the box that the now clearly uncomfortable soldier carried. Slamming the lid on top before yanking it away from the still reluctant soldier and throwing it towards Castin’s smug lackeys.

“Whoa, whoa! Take it easy, sweetheart. If you don’t like it, I could always get you something else.”

“Well. That was utterly insulting.” Celica says, devoid of emotion, making a pointed effort to wipe the dust off her gloves.

“Insulting? Rhett, please. Tell me, how was this insulting?” ‘So he only pretends to be stupid!’

King Rhett, however, started to panic. Trying again to appease her. “Baroness, please. I understand your frustration. But you are making a scene. The peace is fragile. We must keep up appearances.”

“I’ve been humiliated.”

“Yes, I know. But, the people of both our nations are watching. Just let me handle this.”

“No,” Celica softly declared. Her tone sent icy shivers down his spine. “I’ve had enough of your incompetence and disrespect.”

The Baroness rolled her shoulders back and clasped her hands in front of her stomach. A plastic smile pulled onto her face. To the world, she appears as an image of the inherited imperial right - As though the Goddess herself had begun to pull her strings to a tune of power.

But King Rhett, at that moment, only saw a dark chasm splitting the Baroness into two. Her mask widened as from behind pearl-white teeth, inky darkness flooded out. They were tendrils, threatening to choke every ignorant man and woman nearby.

And what eventually crawled out is a monster unlike anything he has ever seen before.

Rhett could remember the day he lost his childhood.

When the Ascendants assaulted his village, sparing no one, he could no longer be considered a child. The same goes for any of his surviving playmates. Goddess, even now, Rhett could still feel the burning anger and hatred nestled in his heart when he was a Witch Hunter; he remembered the faces of the Ascendants who removed their armoured masks when the village was no more than a mountain of ashes.

With lungs full of black smoke and eyes stinging with tears as he huddled close with Castin and Lilia, Rhett will forever remember those Ascendants as the ugliest monsters he had ever seen. Logic dictated to the child that they were humans, just like him, but the absolute terror the Ascendants evoked petrified him enough that he thought nothing else would frighten him like that ever again.

Rhett was horribly wrong.

The Baroness cast an inscrutable glance at Castin and repeated her previous remark, “You have publicly humiliated me as a woman and tarnished my reputation as the Baroness of the Anesidora Household with your… gift.”

Then she focused on him.

Something must’ve dawned on Castin - perhaps his self-preservation finally kicks in? Rhett could only hope - for he tried to defend himself again, properly this time, but the Imperial Lady refused to spare any more attention for him.

Now confronted by his wife’s best friend underneath the glittering chandeliers, Rhett can clearly see the Baroness’ face transform. Her serene human face melted like hot tar, revealing a brand new horror that only a monster could provoke. Its lips curled back, exposing razor-sharp teeth with a guttural snarl. Its eyes, though still ruby red, now have a tint from the abyss with a sort of mindless feral wrapped in shadows. The worst is its gaze; it struck Rhett like a furious beast from Hell, terrifying him in place. Distantly, Rhett wondered if his heart had ceased to beat because he was certainly struggling to breathe.

Unlike the Ascendants, who were monsters moulded by war, the abomination in front of him was nurtured. Hungry eyes tore apart even the tiniest flaw on Rhett’s face.

He had been a fool to think the Baroness was a creature sheltered in peace.

“Your blatant disrespect of my title infuriates me, Your Majesty,” Celica Anesidora’s voice is controlled. Smooth as silk yet loud enough to be heard by everyone in the hall. “So I will approach the Queen with a simple question: Me or you?”

“What do you mean…?” The young King questioned warily. His mouth tasted of ash.

“Tomorrow, the Queen must decide: her husband or best friend. If she chooses you, I will return to the Empire. I will withdraw my support, wealth, business networks and influence from Intacia. Burying my friendship with the Queen for choosing a man that repeatedly insulted her best friend, her fellow countrymen and even herself. My support of this peace rendered meaningless, and the embargos shall resume as well active assault. However, if she chooses me, I will bring her home. I will then personally fund the Imperial army using every last coin from the Anesidora fortune. My Knight will lead every available Ascendant I can employ against Intacia. When your lands are utterly destroyed and your people starving, I wonder how many of your ‘brothers and sisters’ will clamour to bring me your head for my mercy.”

The room was silent. A pin drop could have been heard had there been one. Everyone in the room held a collective breath. Castin’s face was paler than a phantom as his hand rested uneasily over his sword hilt, waiting for permission to draw and behead her. King Rhett swallowed thickly. The atmosphere stayed tense, waiting for the guillotine to fall.

“Are… are you threatening me?”

“No, Your Majesty. That wasn’t a threat. It’s a promise.”

“After everything… I thought you wanted peace! I thought the four of us wanted an end to the war!”

“You think. You want. As if you’ve done something that warrants my endearment to either of those things.”

She’s curious, Rhett realises in horror. She’s curious as to why he expected her to play nice, even when plans for the unification of their countries are on the table. It’s a sort of selfishness that’s devoid of empathy.

He now understands the warnings his Queen gave him in their bedroom:

“OK, look, underneath the frills and sparkly stones, Celica is a simple woman with a simple desire. She just wants her family - which you can count on one hand, by the way - close by. While she treats her title as a 9 to 5 job, she takes pride in her hard-earned achievements. But you also got to understand something, Rhett. Living in a gilded cage broke her… I think. And the Empire took advantage of that.”

“What does that entail exactly?”

“So you know the Imperial Nobles are nasty in their own way, right? Unfortunately, Celica isn’t an exception. She likes pulling strings from the shadows, using others to get what she wants. And when the blame game begins, she’ll have people pointing their fingers at each other. Don’t look at me like that, Rhett! The Baroness isn’t malicious in nature. That’s just, her? She won’t hurt you, but she will just give you enough rope to hang yourself with. Actually, that still sounds kinda bad.”

“‘Kinda?”

“Hey, she’s on our side! I managed to convince her to give you a chance. So wow her as you did me, OK?”

Perhaps he had been too distracted in the bedroom. Now in the present, Rhett perfectly comprehends that the Baroness has pushed them all into a corner. The decision that she’ll lay for the Queen is an illusion; no matter what his wife chooses, the Baroness is the victor. If any of his men harm her in retaliation or fear, the Empire will immediately resume attacking Intacia.

It’s insane how an arranged marriage - Hell, just an arranged engagement transformed into a Goddess damned ambush!

King Rhett bit his lower lip, struggling to put a lid on his growing anxiety while the Baroness silently stared at him. Waiting for his next move.

Like most Intacian warriors, Rhett was taught to fight until his last breath. To take death over defeat. Now though? This is bigger than him; the crown on his brows weighs the heaviest. Whatever he does now spells either the doom of his people or elevates them into a new era.

The politicians began to murmur among themselves; the commoners were confused about how to react while the warriors watch Castin. Castin, now guilt-ridden for pushing his friend to the point of needing to beg an Imperial, steps forward to place Rhett behind him. Only to be pulled back.

It is the King of Intacia that stops him.

It is his friend he cannot bear to watch kneel before her in supplication. Though ranking had never mattered to him, honour did.

“I’ve wronged you terribly, Baroness Anesidora.” The accented baritone voice boomed off the walls despite his humble tone. Celica seemed unmoved by this. “My actions and words tonight were egregious to a woman of your stature. But please, I humbly plead that you reconsider your promise. For the sake of my wife. For the sake of my people. For the sake of my nation. What will it take to earn your forgiveness?”

Seemed was the word, being on the floor, King Rhett couldn’t see how Celica’s human face snapped back into place. Dragging the monster back into its cage as his gesture once again made her uncomfortable; though for a different reason. Not out of offence, but rather because she found Intacian dramatics to be, well, dramatic.

“Acknowledgement. Accountability. Followed by a public apology from the offending parties,” The Baroness easily offered. As if she’s already planned for this, planned to have him humbled if not humiliated publicly for wronging her and at this point, Rhett doesn’t doubt it.

But since the terms were simple, he eagerly tilts his head up. Hope blooms in his heart like a budding flower during Spring. “Then may Castin and I deliver our - ”

“Unfortunately, I’ve grown weary from tonight’s affair,” King Rhett’s expression dimmed ever so slightly at her announcement. ‘Is the Baroness still playing her games?’

“I’m open for an audience tomorrow. That should give you plenty of time to practice your deliverance…” Celica offered graciously.

Everyone could only watch as the Baroness gave King Rhett a curtsy before the crowd parts like the sea as she exited the hall. Taking with her the oppressive air yet leaving the Intacians uneasy. Some claim that Baroness Anesidora was bluffing; others didn’t dare to wait for the fallout.

Cutting through the chattering partygoers, Castin helps Rhett up to his feet. His voice is uncharacteristically small when he speaks. “I… I shouldn’t have - I never - I didn’t mean…” The Intacian warrior exhales deeply and tries again. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this. It was my fault, Rhett. I’ll fix it with the Baroness; I promise.”

The words rang in his ear. Chorusing the night, “It’s a promise.”

“I was in the wrong as well, brother. I should’ve paid closer attention to the Baroness. This went beyond cultural differences; this was a political nightmare.” King Rhett sighed, rubbing a palm over his jaw. Another realisation hit him; the Baroness purposely chose to talk to the Queen tomorrow. Forcing Rhett to break the news of what happened tonight to his wife so he would stew in the pot a little longer.

‘What a -.’

“So what’s our game plan?” His Commander asked seriously.

“Acknowledge our mistakes. Give the Baroness an appropriate form of accountability. Apologise to her with both nations as witnesses.” King Rhett parroted.

Castin whistled lowly. “A Water Ascendant as our Queen and an Imperial Baroness as my spouse. Rhett, I say this as your buddy, but you sure know how to pick your women.”

#monotony's rambling #desmond asmr #fanfic #baroness (oc)#queen ascendant (oc)#castin hammer #rhett

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