#Ophelia Nevermore

[sketchmenot-art]

Beleth - Devilish Darling

Drew my friend @maid-morphia / @petronella-dismay’s character Beleth! 🖤💜🖤

Wanted to do a cute drawing of Beleth this time hehe! (^◡^)

Ophelia’s an incredible artist with a gorgeous gothic style! Go check out her work! She’s awesome!! ✨(^w^)✨

While working on this piece, I felt inspired by the song Jeep’s Blues by Johnny Hodges!

Johnny Hodges - Jeep’s Blues

November 2022

[lina-studen]

I, in fact, did ruin my first watercolor attempt so here's the second, decided to stick with markers and pencils as usual.

"there is a willow grows aslant a brook,

that shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream"...

[marvinthecrow]

[available in my Redbubble shop]

[aleks-norward]

Wednesday. Netflix Series. AMAZING performance by Jenna Ortega😍❤️

Really. Give it a shot. I’ve had great time with this series😊

[crystalcraftshop]

Wednesday & Enid Inspired Necklace

[fewwordsmanyriddles]

[poisonlove]

The Tour | w.a

Wednesday Addams X Fem reader

"People are like plants: it’s not the amount of light they receive, but the kind that determines if they bloom." - Anonymous

“I don’t want to do it, Enid,” Wednesday hisses through gritted teeth, casting a cold look at the blonde in front of her.

“It was my turn last year! Can’t you do me this favor just this once?” Enid responds, her tone a mix of sweetness and desperation, her eyes pleading with her roommate.

I decide to look away, letting my attention wander around the room’s decor. I had just arrived at Nevermore Academy, and the headmistress had assured me that someone would show me around. But it seems she had asked the wrong people.

I was born with two powers: super hearing and the ability to read minds. The latter I try to avoid as much as possible; it feels like invading people’s privacy. But with super hearing, there’s no way to turn it off. All I can do is try to distract myself by focusing on something that captures my attention.

One of the main reasons I avoid using my powers is the discomfort of hearing what people think and say about you. Discovering what others are hiding can be devastating, and...

Oh, look. There’s a hand walking by itself.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, but a slight smile escapes me at the unusual sight.

“Is something amusing you?” Wednesday Addams asks with a hint of venom in her voice. I look up, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as her dark eyes lock onto mine with a chilling intensity.

Her body is rigid, her posture upright, and her head held high with an unshakable pride.

As soon as I meet her gaze, a strange sensation crosses my mind. Then, a phrase materializes in my thoughts: I don’t like this girl. The feeling of discomfort replaces my initial embarrassment.

Enough, Y/N, I think to myself. Stop reading thoughts.

“Sorry, she’s just like that...” Enid interjects with a nervous smile, shooting a sidelong glance at her friend.

“No, it’s fine,” I quickly reply, trying to mask my discomfort as I set my suitcase on the floor.

Wednesday huffs with a hint of annoyance and gracefully walks over to her desk. She grabs the bag that was on the chair and, before leaving the room, gives me one last look that makes me wish I could disappear. Then, without a word, she steps out of Ophelia Hall.

“I think you should follow her,” Enid suggests with a small smile.

I give her a small wave, almost as a thank you, and hurry to exit, trying to keep up with the small but surprisingly fast Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday walks ahead of me, her steps light but purposeful, as I try to match her pace. She doesn’t look back or check if I’m following, but her silence is a clear signal that she expects me to keep up.

Wednesday stops in front of a large wrought-iron gate that leads to a circular outdoor space. In the center stands an old and somewhat eerie fountain, with five paths branching off in different directions, forming a sort of pentagon.

“Welcome to the Pentagram,” she says in her usual flat, unenthusiastic tone. “This is the heart of Nevermore Academy. From here, you can access all the main areas of the school... and encounter the different ‘categories’ of students.”

I stop beside her, observing the area. There’s a strange energy in the air, as if something darker lurks beneath the seemingly tranquil surroundings.

Wednesday turns slowly to face me, her dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes it hard to look away. “Here at Nevermore, we’re not all the same,” she explains, gesturing vaguely towards the paths around the fountain. “There are vampires, of course. They’re not as charming as in the movies, but they consider themselves quite superior.”

She indicates one of the paths with a slight nod of her head. “Then there are werewolves... Enid is an example. Unlike vampires, at least werewolves have a sense of loyalty, though their pack mentality can be... irritating.”

Continuing, she shifts her gaze to another path. “Mermaids,” she says, with a note of slight disdain in her voice. “They’re natural manipulators. They can control minds with their voices, but they’re very appearance-conscious. Never trust a mermaid. They have a talent for deception.”

She takes a brief pause and then gestures towards another corner of the courtyard. “And then there are the Gorgons. Not exactly Medusas, but if they look you in the eye without their special glasses, you turn to stone. Literally.”

I watch her closely, trying to discern if there’s a hint of irony in her tone, but her face remains impassive.

“Finally, there are those who don’t fit into any specific category,” she concludes, looking up at the dark sky above us. “The anomalies. People like me.”

“What do you mean by ‘anomalies’?” I ask, intrigued.

Wednesday stops and turns to face me, her black eyes shining with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. “Anomalies,” she begins, “are people who don’t fit into the predefined groups of Nevermore. They don’t fall into common categories like vampires, werewolves, or mermaids. They are... different in ways that our classification can’t always explain.”

She looks at me with an expression that suggests how little she understands my curiosity. “They are individuals who possess unusual abilities or characteristics that defy the usual labels. Some may have strange powers, while others simply don’t conform to expectations.”

Her words leave me with a sense of wonder and a touch of unease. “So, students who don’t belong to any of the main groups are considered anomalies?”

“Exactly,” Wednesday confirms.

I remain silent for a moment, reflecting on what she has said. “Then I suppose I belong to this group.”

Wednesday gazes at me with attentive eyes. There’s a subtle shift in her expression, as if my question has finally piqued her interest. “What powers do you have?” she asks, her voice softer, almost interrogative.

My heart beats a little faster. I’ve never liked talking about my powers, but I can’t avoid this conversation. “I can... hear thoughts. And I have super hearing. Though I try to avoid using telepathy, out of respect for others’ privacy.”

As soon as I say this, I notice a slight stiffening in Wednesday’s shoulders. Instinctively and somewhat awkwardly, she raises her hands, bringing them near her head as if to build an invisible barrier around her mind for protection. The gesture is oddly endearing, a contrast to her usual unflappable demeanor.

“Are you reading my thoughts right now?” she asks, with a calm exterior, but her guard is clearly up.

“No!” I reply quickly, also raising my hands as if to demonstrate my innocence. “I never do it intentionally... unless it’s an emergency. I really do respect other people’s boundaries.”

Wednesday watches me for a long moment, scrutinizing every detail of my face as if trying to decide whether to trust my answer. Then, slowly, she lowers her hands, although she still seems cautious.

“It’s... an annoying power,” she comments finally. “It’s not very common here. Nevermore students tend to be very protective of their secrets.”

I lower my gaze, feeling embarrassed. “I know. That’s why I try not to use it.”

Wednesday gives a small nod of approval and, without adding anything else, turns and begins walking towards one of the paths in the Pentagram. After a few steps, she stops and looks back at me.

“Are you going to stand there staring all day, or do you plan on following me?” she asks in her flat tone. “The tour isn’t over.”

I take a deep breath and hurry to follow her. It seems that Nevermore still has many secrets to reveal... and Wednesday has no intention of slowing down for anyone.

Wednesday continues to lead me through the corridors of Nevermore, passing by groups of students chatting or hurrying to their destinations. She doesn’t seem to notice anyone around her, walking with a decisive and assured stride, expecting me to follow without question.

After navigating various narrow passages and dark staircases, we finally arrive at a pair of imposing dark wooden doors. Wednesday opens them without hesitation, revealing a vast hall filled with towering shelves brimming with books that seem as ancient as the school itself. The soft light adds an almost mystical touch to the environment.

“This is Nevermore's library,” Wednesday says in her usual flat tone. “A place many students use as an excuse for making out in hidden corridors or, worse, for reading poorly-written romance novels.”

I can’t help but smile slightly. “That’s not really my genre,” I reply, admiring the massive collection of books. “I prefer something more... stimulating. Like mystery or horror.”

Wednesday stops abruptly and turns toward me, with a slightly curious expression. Her dark eyes scrutinize me as if trying to determine whether I’m serious or just trying to impress her.

“Interesting,” she murmurs with a faint smile.

She gestures for me to follow as she makes her way through the library and heads toward the exit.

“So,” she begins in a measured tone, “if you prefer mystery and horror, who are your favorite authors? I hope you don’t just name the usual clichés.”

I sense that she’s testing me, seeing if I truly have an authentic knowledge of those genres. I think for a moment and then answer confidently. “Shirley Jackson, for example. Few manage to capture the hidden horror in everyday banality like she does.”

For a moment, I see something change in Wednesday’s expression. It’s uncommon to see her surprised, but it seems that the name I just mentioned has struck a chord with her. Her lips curl slightly into a barely perceptible smile.

“Shirley Jackson,” she repeats, as if savoring the name. “Finally, someone with good taste. We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a masterpiece of unease and despair.”

I can’t help but feel a bit satisfied for having passed her test. Wednesday continues to observe me for a few more seconds, then turns and resumes walking. Although she doesn’t say anything, there’s a new dynamic between us, a sort of mutual respect that wasn’t there before.

“Follow me,” she says finally. “There’s still much more to see.”

Wednesday continues to lead me through the school with her determined stride, guiding me down a long corridor that leads outside. We cross the courtyard and head toward a separate building, surrounded by climbing plants and well-tended shrubs.

“This is the greenhouse,” Wednesday says as we open the glass door. Inside, the greenhouse is a tangle of exotic plants, some with an unsettling appearance, with flowers in unnatural colors and leaves that seem to move on their own. “Here, the rarest and most poisonous plants are cultivated. Mortality biology, as I prefer to call it.”

As we observe a plant with leaves that shift slightly as we pass, Wednesday turns to me. “The greenhouse is managed by Professor Thornhill. Many people like to spend time here, but only a few truly understand the lethal potential of what grows here.”

I nod, a little intrigued and a little unsettled. The air is thick with intense scents, some sweet, others sharp, but all decidedly... strange.

Wednesday doesn’t linger longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” she says, quickly exiting as if the greenhouse is just one of many stops of the day.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, we arrive at the Nevermore gymnasium. We enter, and the atmosphere changes dramatically. The room is vast and well-lit, with walls adorned with ancient swords and shields, and fencing equipment neatly arranged. Some students are engaged in intense fencing sessions, maneuvering their swords with extraordinary skill, while others are working out with exercises that combine agility and strength in almost supernatural ways.

“The gym,” Wednesday says with a tone that reveals her disinterest. “Here many seek to refine their combat and fencing skills. It’s a place of competition and discipline. Personally, I prefer to exercise the mind rather than the body. However, if you like the idea of facing others in duels and tests of strength, this is the place.”

I watch the students training fervently, their swords glinting under the fluorescent lights, and the fluid and precise movements of their techniques. It seems like a dynamic and competitive environment, very different from the other areas of the school.

Wednesday continues to walk, passing by the ongoing training. “It’s not my ideal environment, but every corner of Nevermore has its purpose,” she adds, casting a distracted glance at the room. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t seem like your kind of place. Many students feel at home here, but there are others who prefer different spaces to express their abilities.”

Although this part of the school is vibrant and full of energy, it’s not the kind of place where I would feel comfortable. But, as Wednesday says, every place has its role, and Nevermore seems to have a spot for every type of person.

Wednesday gestures for me to follow her again, and we head toward another room. As we enter, the smell of food immediately hits us. The large space is crowded with students talking among themselves as they line up to get food or sit at long tables.

“The cafeteria,” Wednesday comments, observing the environment with an almost disgusted air. “Where the common people eat and socialize. If you’re lucky, you might find a quiet corner. But don’t expect much in terms of culinary quality.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her comment. The chaotic atmosphere of the cafeteria makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but at least it’s warmer compared to the greenhouse and gym.

“We won’t stay here,” Wednesday says quickly, leading me out again. We move toward a quieter, more serene part of the school.

Wednesday guides me down the corridors of Nevermore, her pace steady and unyielding. “So, you’ve seen almost everything,” she says, breaking a silence that had only been interrupted by our footsteps. “If you have any other questions, now’s the time.”

Taking advantage of her openness, I ask, “I’ve noticed that everyone wears the purple uniform except for you. Why?”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow and gives me a scrutinizing look. “The purple uniforms are standard for all students at Nevermore. They represent a sense of belonging and uniformity. However, my black attire is a personal choice.”

Her answer seems a bit cryptic, so I continue probing. “But is there a specific reason you wear black? It’s not a rule, is it?”

Wednesday smiles slightly, an expression that could be interpreted as a kind of personal satisfaction. “Black is a manifestation of my style and preferences. It’s not so much a rebellion against norms as it is a statement of individuality.”

“I see,” I say, reflecting on her comment. “So it’s a conscious choice that reflects your personality.”

“Exactly,” Wednesday replies with a tone suggesting that the conversation might be closing there.

“Do you know where your room is?” Wednesday asks, raising her gaze with an impatient question.

I raise an eyebrow and reply with a subtle smile, “It’s practically yours.”

Wednesday looks at me with intensity, as if evaluating my answer. “I know, but I have to go somewhere else, and I’m not sure if you know how to get there.”

“I can find it,” I say calmly. “Thanks for the tour.”

As I look at her, I notice her eyes fixate on me with a penetrating intensity. I take a moment to observe her closely. Her figure is petite and slender, but she exudes a presence that fills the space around her. Her black hair is neatly styled in two braids that fall down her back. Her pale face is dotted with subtle freckles that seem to peek timidly above her nose and on her cheeks. These small details add an unexpected dimension to her austere beauty.

Her dark eyes are like two deep wells reflecting an eerie light, and her thin, well-groomed eyebrows accentuate her detached expression. She wears the black school uniform, which fits perfectly with her elegant figure and stern demeanor. Her movements are fluid and measured, imparting an aura of control and authority.

In her mind, I catch the thought: I don’t know if she’s reading, but this girl is really interesting. My cheeks involuntarily flush.

Wednesday, noticing my embarrassment, tilts her head slightly to the side and adds with a faint smile, She’s cute when she blushes

I try to look away and calm the redness on my face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. “Again, thanks for the tour,” I say, trying to keep my composure.

Wednesday gives a nod of approval and resumes walking, leaving me with thoughts about her words and the impression of how Nevermore can be both fascinating and enigmatic.

[king-of-the-underworld-hades]

Can you please do a Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair x Male Reader imagine? Where Reader is from a popular family of hybrids and tribrids, where Reader is a Vampire, a Witch and a Shapeshifter. And the three of them became roommates temporarily because there were no more available rooms for him in the boys' dormitory.

Tri-problem (Male)

Art by TanyaF2022 on X/Twitter.

You sigh as you feel the bumps of the road as the family chauffeur, Jack drives you to Nevermore Academy. You pull out your phone and start swiping on Instagram to see all your "friends" stories and whatnot. Rolling your eyes you start to block them all one by one. "Are you okay young sir?" Jack asks as he looks at you in the rearview mirror. "I told you to call me Y/N," you said annoyed. "But if you must know I'm just annoyed. Why am I being punished for something that my parents agree was the right action?" "Well, I doubt the school board was happy to hear you almost ended the life of your classmate," Jack said causing you to roll your eyes. "Please. No one would've missed him. He deserved it. He assaulted Normies to feed his ego. There is no excuse for that." "Yes, but you decided to, hex him, suck out almost two liters of his blood, and shapeshifted into a silverback gorilla to break both his arms," Jack said flatly. "And?" You said as if it wasn't a big deal. Jack just sighed.

"Well Mister L/N your father had informed me of your... predicament," Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore said as you sat across from her. "We have had your uniform custom made as your family requested but... I- uh..." she stumbled over her words causing you to raise an eyebrow. "We have no space in the boy's dormitory... and well... since you have no family in Jericho... I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the girls dormitory..." "You gotta be kidding me..."

She was indeed not kidding... here you were... standing in front of a dorm in Ophelia Hall... "Fuck my life..." You sigh and knock. Not like you had a choice all your stuff was there... "Enid. The door," you heard a flat cold muffled voice on the other side of the door "Coming~" you heard a second, sweeter warmer muffled voice. Soon the door was opened. "Hello...~ oh- I don't think I know you... have I seen around?" The girl asked her wide smile which showed off her sharp canines never faltering. She was about 5'2, had fair skin, rosy cheeks, pale blue eyes, blond hair with pink and blue tips, a pink sweater with white and maroon diamonds, a maroon skirt, and white thigh-high socks. You see that inside the dorm another girl was sitting at a desk writing in a typewriter. She had pale skin, black hair that was tied into two even braids, anthracite eyes, and a blank yet focused expression. She wore a pair of black boots, black jeans that went over the boots, a black shirt with white stripes that were slightly above her belly button, a black shirt with Ghostface on it that was the same length as the undershirt, a black vest, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Before you were able to answer the blond girl's question, the ravenette turned and looked at you, her cold piercing gaze locked with your gaze as she spoke. "Y/N L/N. Correct?" Her voice was cold and monotone. "...Y-Yeah..." You mumble as the blonde's expression lit up. "You're our new roomie!" She exclaimed grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Now inside you, we're able to see the room clearer. It was split in half, the spider web window was only halfway filled with color on, what you assume is the blonde's side, the other side had no color and was just normal glass with no tint. The blonde's side of the room was very colorful. Her bed frame was white and her blanket was splattered with multiple colors, her bed was on top of a puzzle-like rug with each piece being colored differently, ribbons were hanging from the ceiling, and a desk littered with notebooks, markers, pens, etc. A bean bag chair, posters, and so much more. The ravenette's side was the complete opposite. There was a lamp, a black cello, a black sheet music stand, a desk with a black typewriter, a black bed, and a black leather chair. All your stuff was neatly set in a corner of the room. The blonde let go of her hand as she looked at you her grin somehow wider. "My name is Enid Sinclair! I'm a Fur, AKA a werewolf! Nice to meet you roomie!" Enid said excitingly as she went to the ravenette and grabbed her cheeks making her look at you. "This is Wednesday Addams! She may look gloomy but she's a softie!" Enid exclaimed before Wednesday leaned away scowling. "...Nice to meet two..." You mumbled. "So~," Enid said as she leaned closer to you so close you could feel her breath on your face. "What are you? Fur, Scales, Fangs, Psychic, or something else?" She asked curiously. "Personal space Enid," Wednesday reprimanded her from her chair causing Enid to lean back pouting muttering "I was just asking..." under her breath. "I'm a tribrid... I'm part Vampire, Witch, and Shapeshifter," You explained as Wednesday stood from her typewriter. "Your family is known for that are they not?" Wednesday asked rhetorical. "Your family is known for giving birth to Hybrids and Tribrids," She said monotone with her cold expression. "Yeah... they are," you said as Wednesday nodded. "Weems had informed us of your... incident. Try to behave yourself," Wednesday said as she headed for the door. "Unpack and try not to make a mess of things," she said before leaving. "She always like that?" You ask. "Pretty much," replies Enid.

As the next two weeks passed you got accustomed to living with the two. You found out that Enid would try and snoop when you were on your phone or laptop to find something to put on her blog. When you caught her she blushed and turned away but after that day she would randomly ask to things, favorite color, would you rathers, song taste, etc. You got used to "Addams schedule," as Enid calls it. Basically when she did her writing when she wanted to be left alone, when she would leave for coffee, etc.

As time went on Wednesday had admitted she got used to your presence and even let you watch her write. Yoko, a fellow vampire and friend of Enid said that most Vamipres have a calming presence around them. Ironic. So since Wednesday hadn't really spent a prolonged time near vampires she was getting a heavy dose of it.

Enid on the other hand would paint your nails, do your hair, take you on friend dates, etc. You would talk to her about werewolf stuff, since you had cousins who were part werewolf you could relate in some aspects. After five months of living with the roommates, Weems came to visit.

"Hello girls, and Mr. L/N." "Yo," you did a two-finger salute from Enid's bed, your head in her lap as she dyed the tips of your hair. "I have news, one of the boys has moved out of his dorm as his parents found a suitable house in Jericho, so that means that Mr. L/N here will finally be moving to the boys' dorm. Fun!" Weems said with a smile but Enid stood up causing your head to fall onto the mattress. "What!? B-but he can't- I mean-," Enid stammered but Wednesday spoke I'm her usual monotone and cold tone. "What Enid is trying to say is we don't wish for Y/N's leave. He's been here for six months now. We have grown attached. So much so," Wednesday said as she stood from her desk and walked over to you, who had sat up. She cupped your face, causing you to raise an eyebrow, she then leaned down and kissed you softly. Her hands were cold to the touch. Her lips were soft and plush and tasted like coffee. Wednesday soon pulled away and looked at Weems. "We've started a polygamous relationship," She said as she looked at Enid who was blushing. Enid quickly walked over to you and kissed you as well. She was nervous, unlike Wednesday. Her lips were warm and soft. They also tasted like milk tea. Weems blinked a few times at this action. "W-well... this certainly complicated things..." she said as she looked at you. "I will... talk to your mother... see what she says about this...," She spoke before leaving. You were flustered and confused. The room was silent for a few seconds before Wednesday spoke. "I have him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We share Sunday." "T-that works..." Enid mumbled. "The fuck just happened?" You ask as Wednesday rolls her eyes. "You just got two girlfriends."

[achromatophoric]

Late one night at Nevermore University, Bianca and Enid watched as Wednesday rolls around on the floor of the Ophelia Hall common room.

Bianca: The hell is wrong with your girl this time?

Enid: She’s um— Willa’s kinda maybe rolling.

Bianca: Rolling? Wait, did someone drug her with molly?!

Enid: Nonono, she mistook it for her evening cyanide.

Bianca:

Bianca: Oh… kay.

Enid: 😅

Bianca: I guess this’ll be bizarrely hilarious. Addams being all touchy and lovey dovey.

Enid: *winces* Actually…

Wednesday sways towards the table. Her eyes, already dark, are now swallowed by black pupils. She wears a manic grin, tinted red by bleeding gums.

Bianca: The fuck…?

Wednesday: Happy evening, Barclay. Your tits could be bigger.

Bianca: Bitch what did—

Wednesday: *turns* Beloved whom I would burn in Hell for, I request permission to cuddle the bitchfish.

Bianca: *sputters angrily*

Enid: You do you, babe!

Wednesday abruptly ducks and rams her sweaty face against one of Bianca’s exposed shins.

Bianca: HOLY SHIT!

Wednesday: *glares up* Pet me now or else I’ll gut your delightfully firm belly.

Bianca: Enid! Get your psycho bitch off— OW!!

Wednaesday stabs Bianca again with a cracked glowstick as she continues to smear her face on the Siren’s leg.

Bianca: Fucking quit it!

Wednesday: *muffled* Mmm… voice… exquisite…

Yoko: *walks up* Hey bitches, what’s— *double-take*

Yoko: 😨

Yoko: What the actual fuck is Freddy Keurig doing?

At the sound of Yoko’s voice, Wednesday rotates her head a horrifying 180 degrees to stare back at her. The act leaves a smudge of sweat and bloody spittle across Bianca’s leg.

Bianca: 😩

Yoko: *steps back* Oh SHIT!

Wednesday: *ominously* Yoko. Yoko-koko. Your hair is silken. I must hug you.

Yoko: What the— FUCK! Getheroffgetheroff!!

Enid casually hands Bianca a towel, who uses it to wipe off her leg.

Bianca: Well this is a fresh new Hell.

Enid: Sorry! Imma get some LED gloves from Ajax and see if I can’t lure her back to the room. Bee-arr-bee! *scampers away*

Bianca: BITCH! Don’t leave me with this shit show!

Yoko: Fucking OW! My hair! What are— are you fucking CHEWING MY HAIR?!

Wednesday: *koalas* Nmn… pretty leech… nmn nmn…

Divina: *walks up* Hey all, what’s— oh my god! Is this a CUDDLE PUDDLE!?

Yoko: Babe! H-Help!

Divina: I gotchu! *grabs Bianca and joins in*

Bianca: Wait a— godDAMMIT!!

Cuddle puddle: 🤤😭☺️😫

[randomclownsheep]

I have to stop reading Nevermore with my mind elsewhere because how come i re read this chapter a million times and just now realized the Ophelia reference?

She's quoting Hamlet, more specifically Ophelia's flower speech. A scene where Ophelia is believed to be mad, she had a breakdown after her father's death similarly to how Annabel Lee had a breakdown after Lenore's "death". Not only that, but she's sumerged in water during the whole scene. How did my girl Ophelia died? That's right, the bitch drowned

Her clothes spread wide

And mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up,

Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds,

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element.

Maybe I'm reading too much into this out of excitement, but this reminds me a whole lot to how Annabel Lee is quoting old poems as she tries to ignore the shadowy figure of Lenore and her own feelings of distress. "Like a creature native and indued unto that element" like how Annabel is in a constant state of impending doom, so much so that when Ada shows her her worst nightmare (which happens to be again, Lenore's shadowy figure) she seems completely unbothered by the outside viewer. She's used to that feeling and so she learned to mask it.

Anyways, I love this chapter, the best chapter ever. I'm embarrassed for not noticing the connection after reading it like six times.

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

Te Amo

(Larissa Weems x Addams!Reader)

A/N: This is my first series! Also sorry for taking so long to update, im just feeling lazy...

Warnings: None I dont think.

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

"My little storm cloud I proud of you", father says to me. I just stared at him. I then looked at mother who had a sweet smile and was looking at me with adoring eyes.

"I only accepted to go to Nevermore because Wednesday is going as well." I said flatly to mother and father.

"Speaking of which, would you like to be in the same dorm as Wednesday?" Mother said while looking at me with loving eyes.

I just stare at her with a cold glare before looking out the window to see Nevermore approaching. The car then stopped and mother and father got out while Lurch started to take out my luggage. I just sat in the car waiting until Lurch got all my stuff out and then got out of the car. Keeping a big distance away from my parents.

My parents started to walk into the school, hand in hand with each other which made me want to stab my eyes with my own nails. From that disgusting sight of affection

I proceeded to follow them quietly, my footsteps soft and quiet. After a bit of walking my parents and I all stopped at a large door which I assumed was an office of my new principal. Since the doors were so huge and it was in its own separate hall.

Mother knocked on the door and from the other side there was a soft angelic voice saying "Come in!"

My parents then open the doors and stride in together. As I follow them with a cold and bored gaze, my eyes land on a gorgeous woman. I looked at the gold name plaque that said, "Principal Weems."

"Its been so long Larissa" , mother said with a smile while both of them sit in a chair while I stand in the middle between them.

"It has Morticia." Larissa said with a big smile, too big to be real and sincere.

"Now, we have put Belladonna in the same dorm as Wednesday as requested, she will also have most of her classes with her sister as well." Larissa said while looking at a file. I looked between mother and father and saw them happily smiling which made me want to stick their mouths closed for eternity.

"You hear that my storm cloud?! You and your sister will be together like you used to be." Father said happily. I give him a glare which makes him smile.

"But, we do not want any calls from Larissa saying you have destroyed this school Belladonna Addams." Mother said sternly which makes me give her a small smirk.

Larissa raises an eyebrow at me when mother mentioned destroying a school. I just stare at her with an empty gaze before there was a knock on the office doors.

"Come in!" Weems said before the doors opened and I saw my sister along with a girl with blonde hair and a bit of pink and blue. My sister quickly walked up to me and stood very closely to me. She then hooked her pinkie with mine and I made no move to remove it. Instead I held tighter making Wednesday smile a bit before quickly returning to her signature blank expression.

The blonde girl came up to me, about to give me a hug but I stepped away. My pinkie leaving Wednesday's making her frown a bit.

"Not a hugger, got it." The blonde girl said sheepishly.

"Pardon Belladonna Enid, she is allergic to color as well." Mother said while smiling at the blonde girl.

The blonde girl nodded who's name I think was Enid.

"Belladonna, your sister and Enid will show you to your dorm that all three of you will be sharing and later on I will give you a tour of Nevermore." Weems said with a smile that showed off her pearly white teeth.

I just stare at her blankly before Enid dragged me away with Wednesday following close behind. Leaving my parents and Principal Weems to deal with them.

Enid was talking about the history of Ophelia dorm and saying how Wednesday split half of the room making me smirk a bit.

While Enid was too busy talking Wednesday said Thing was awaiting for my arrival eagerly. Making me nod even though in the inside I was quite happy since I haven't seen him in years.

We then arrived at a door and Enid opened it up excitedly, making jazz hands when I stepped inside. I looked to see a circular window that had colors on one half and just black on one side.

"Where will I be sleeping?" I said flatly while walking to Wednesday's side.

"Ms. Weems has ordered a bunk bed and should arrive when she gives you your tour! So you and Wednesday can have your own side." Enid said with a smile. I just nod before spotting my luggage near Wednesday's bed.

I then walk towards my luggage and start unpacking my things. Just then I heard quiet and soft pitter patters. I snap my head towards the directions of the sounds before Wednesday said something.

"That Thing remember Bella?" Wednesday said bluntly. Herself picking up the bluntness from myself. My bluntness is what I pride myself in.

"I do, such a loud hand and a mystery." I said bluntly before I feel a hand crawl up my shoulder.

"Thing off, you know how I dont like people and things touching my cold shoulders." I said flatly before patting Wednesday's bed to let him know to crawl up on her bed.

"Oh Thing we have your manicures soon!" Enid said while looking at her phone which had a clock. My my, technology has truly grown. Distracting kids from their social lives and brain sucking them in for money.

Thing just bobbed up and down saying yes. Thing then turned to me and held his nails out. Showing him his freshly black painted nails that were about to be repainted because Thing chipped the pain off when Wednesday sent him to find her some crime cases to solve.

"Mine are always better Thing." I smirk slightly before showing Thing my stiletto nails that were painted void black. I then hear a knock on the door making everyone turn to the door. Even Enid who surprisingly heard it since she has been too invested in her brain sucking device.

"Who is it?" Enid shouted from her bed while now going back to her phone.

"Its Weems." I said before standing up and opening the door to see Principal Weems standing there with a big smile.

"You ready for your tour Miss Addams?" Weems asked with her voice that was so soft that it could be coated in honey. I nod before looking at my sister and Enid before leaving the dorm.

"Are you settling in well Miss Addams?" Weems asked me while starting to walk down the hall.

"Horrific." I said bluntly but she smiled. I cursed Wednesday in my head for being so similar to me.

"Im glad, now after this tour I must go back to work but I want you to come to my office at 8pm so you can collect your uniform and schedule for Monday." Weems said while taking long stride that I had to walk a bit faster to keep up.

I just silently agree before she leads me to a big open area.

"This is the quad, where all the students tend to hangout." Weems said with a big proud smile.

I look around before turning to her.

"This quad you are talking about has more then four sides." I said flatly. She just smiled sweetly at me before showing me my other classes.

"Oh my, I almost forgot. Would you like to join your sister in fencing and archery?" Weems said before almost ending the tour.

"I would like to join her in fencing, but not archery. I already excel at that." I said coldly. Weems looks at me with a bit of curiosity in her eyes.

"Well when you come into my office at 8pm I can show you other options." Weems said smiling softly. I just nod before going back to my dorm not looking back once. Knowing the tour was over.

A couple hours later its now 7:50 pm and I start making my way over to Weems's office. Myself still dressed in my gothic attire which consisted of a long sleeve dress which was short and stopped mid thigh. My hands adoring some lace ruffled gloves and my heels clicking as I walked.

I then shortly arrived at two big doors which led inside to her office. I turn to look at a nearby clock and see its 7:59. I then knock on the door. I here a soft "Come in", from inside so I opened the door to see Weems at her desk and typing rapidly on her computer. She then looks up to see who entered her office and saw me which she looked at the time on her computer to see it was exactly 8pm.

"Miss Addams, im glad you arrived exactly on time." Weems states with a smile before opening a drawer to pull out my black uniform that was identical to Wednesday's.

"Now I know you wanted to be in fencing class so I arranged but you need one more encore." Weems said before pulling out a paper which I assumed was the encores I could choose from.

"There are only two you can choose since you joined in the middle of the semester and there are barely any classes left available." Weems smile before showing me the two I could choose from.

Art or music.

"I want art." I said as soon as I saw it. I saw a flash of surprise on Weems's face for my quick reply.

"Are you sure? I teach that class and no one takes it because no one wants the principal to teach them." Weems said a bit sadly. Even frowning a bit.

"I am positive and I do not mind at all." I stated cold to get my point across that I didn't care if she taught that class or not. I wanted to take it and having her teach me was a big bonus.

Weems smiled brightly at me which I didn't't return but so badly wanted to for the first time. But my face refused to do so since im so use to not smiling its foreign to me.

"Great! Our first studio time will be on Tuesday at 5pm. Does that sound good Miss Addams?" Weems asked me while writing down a reminder for herself.

I stare at her gorgeous face, getting distracted. Her ocean blue eyes that could drown me, her red lips that I would allow marks all over my skin. Her wrinkle and smile lines that were so pretty on her face and just enhanced her beauty. Her neatly done hair that I could only dream of seeing down and raking my fingers through it.

"Miss Addams, are you alright?" Weems said a bit concerned. I snapped out of my daze to realize that she was now standing infront of me with a concerned and worried face.

"I have been calling you for five minutes Miss Addams, are you alright?" Weems said concerned. I looked up her, her height making me weak in the knees.

I then snapped out of my daze and looked back down. I looked up at her again to see those worried eyes that I so badly want to look in them forever.

"I am alright Principal Weems." I said cold. Returning back into my cold and static blunt self. Weems didn't seem convinced but didn't push any further.

"If you say so, but if you need anything dont be ashamed to ask for help. I know how you Addams are." Larissa laughed softly at the end. I just stare at her.

"As we have nothing else to talk about I shall take my leave." I said standing up from the chair and going to leave before I heard a soft "goodnight", from her. Which made me give the smallest smile before leaving.

The next day I wake up from my horrid nightmares and to the blazing white moon that kissed my pale skin. I look around to see Enid laying on her bed still asleep in an awkward position. I see Wednesday asleep right next to me since the bunk bed didn't arrive in time so we had to share.

I quietly got out of bed and stayed in my black nightgown. I checked the time and it was only 5:34 am so I decided to wander around the halls of Nevermore.

It was still dark, the halls eerie. The moon still in the dark night sky. My light foot steps quietly pattering against the cold stone floor.

I then look to see the lights of Weems's office is still on. Strange, its 2:38 am and she is still awake doing her work.

Should I go in there and tell her to sleep? I asked myself. I quickly shake that thought. Im an Addams, I'm not supposed to care. That word care alone wants me to rip my insides out again and again.

I decided I wouldn't go into her office and I would just go back to my dorm, and thats exactly what I did.

I entered back into the door to see the two still asleep. Enid snoring like a chainsaw while Wednesday made no sounds.

"Thing." I said quietly. Thing then peeks out from under Wednesday's bed.

"Go make sure Weems sleeps." I said bluntly. Thing then taps his fingers. Seemingly wanting to get something out of this.

"New hand cream now go." I said before laying back on Wednesday's bed. My eyes closing and my ears tuning in the sounds of Thing's patters while he makes his way to Weems's office.

God why do you care about some dumb Principal that is amazing beautiful!? Being in love is a curse! This is just some silly attraction that will go away soon Belladonna. I argued in my head. I huff before shutting my eyes and letting the peaceful darkness overtake me.

[lina-studen]

"something floral": literature student blabbering about the usage of flower symbolism in "nevermore", how it ties to the theme of insanity and a little bit (a lot) about shakespeare.

from lenore's perspective, flowers are closely associated with isolation caused by her trauma and supposed "hysteria". floral pattern wallpaper accompanied her loneliness for days, months, even years. image of the flowers signaled that lenore's position would remain unchanged, that she was stuck, that she would continue to slowly loosing the clarity of her mind.

having torn the wallpaper off the walls, lenore believes that she will never see this image again, but flowers continue to accompanying her. lenore sees them again during her first meeting with annabel lee. and during the last one, too. she may have managed to get out of her lonely room, gain more strength in her legs, find a new friend, but lenore is still trapped. she's the daughter disowned by her parents, a stain on the family reputation that must be hidden forever. the image of flowers doesn't let her forget about it.

similar symbolism is also not alien to annabel lee. episode 66 is interesting in particular, because it directly quotes ophelia's monologue. I'm a big fan of shakespeare, it was he who instilled in me an interest in floral symbolism. a year ago, for a conference on foreign literature, I wrote an article about flower language of "hamlet". it's not available in english, but I'll list down some points that I considered relevant regarding "nevermore".

• rosemary can serve as a keepsake between lovers and also between the dead and the living. it could be seen at both weddings and funerals. in the old days it was also believed to be helpful in mental illnesses treatment.

• pansies, just like violets, symbolize innocence and devotion. ophelia doesn't consider the people around her worthy of violets, since she blames them for the death of her father.

• rue is a symbol of eternal suffering; grieving over her murdered father and the loss of her beloved hamlet, ophelia leaves some of the flowers for herself.

• the image of daisies has a close connection with the concepts of innocence, fidelity and eternal love. in shakespeare's tragedy, this symbol is overshadowed by the fact that in the world around ophelia there's no place for these beautiful things. for "nevermore" the symbol is also not so positive, since the readers are already familiar with daisies. they were on that wallpaper in lenore's room.

it's impossible not to note that annabel lee recites the monologue while in the bath, in the water. ophelia decides not to resist the river flow. her life turned into a tragedy: she was left without a father, her lover has seemingly lost his mind. her own sanity is also called into question. ophelia sings cryptic songs, goes into the field to weave a wreath, gives flowers to other characters. in the eyes of those around them, hamlet and ophelia seem crazy, while being the only sane and honest people among them. there's no place for tender, innocent ophelia in a cruel, deceitful world, so she drowns.

annabel lee also reflects on how both she and lenore are considered madwomen. her meeting with "leo" is accompanied by floral pattern on the annabel's dress. their madness is contextual, they both are perfectly sane, but don't fit into the system that could be leading to real madness with time. "all madwomen die twice. at least twice".

now about the arboretum. it obviously has a lot of flowers, but in my opinion this place is interesting in a different context. lenore and annabel visited the arboretum twice to discuss upcoming plans and such, and there are many parallels, both visual and narrative. not much time has passed since last time, but their situation has changed. they seem to look on their past selves from the upper level, having their conflict more acute now. I'll make a more detailed post about it later.

and now I'll just focus on how the characters in this arboretum full of roses behave as lost and confused as in the phobia-inducing flower labyrinth from earlier episodes. “the closer you get to beautiful flowers, the closer you get to their thorns,” says duke in episode 38. the flower imagery haunting the main characters doesn't let them forget that their sanity is always on a verge of slipping. and once a flower falls from its stem, it cannot be fixed.

p.s. guess which writer’s works I chose for a new article this year?

[marvinthecrow]

[available in my Redbubble shop]

[crazyoffher]

PARANOID.

wednesday addams x fem!reader

summary: wednesday becomes what one would call "jealous" and the only way to get her to stop is through confession.

warnings: none.

word amount: 2300+

a/n: this is a rewrite of my old wednesday fic "jealousy doesn't suit me well" (old version now archived)

Ajax, a gorgon boy, was somebody that you considered your best friend. He was one, if not the most energetic person you’ve met beside Enid. You loved him dearly, seeing as he was the only person willing to even sit next to you in class when you first started at Nevermore, and your friendship with him quickly grew.

In present time, you hung out with a newcomer in the same year as you, a deathly Wednesday Addams, more than you hung out with Ajax. He understood well, seeing as your crush on the monotone girl grew like wildfire and he was distancing himself from you too, finding his time consumed by day-to-day dealing with his own crush.

A nice, peculiar girl by the name of Enid Sinclair, but God, did she have to annoy you that much? You knew she only ever meant well, so you tolerated her for the sake of Wednesday and Ajax.

As the months drew closer to summer, you made a pact with the gorgon that you would hang out with him a lot more for the sake of friendship, homework, and crushes. That put a toll on Enid, constantly being cornered by the girl and swearing to make pinky promises that you weren’t sneakily getting with him, which you mentally gagged at the thought of.

He was a nice guy. Well groomed, kind-hearted, intelligent, and attractive, but he just wasn’t for you. After all, your eyes grew into hearts only for one psychotic goth girl.

On the topic of her, your constant hanging out didn’t only affect Enid, but Wednesday too, the girl seemingly more sullen and dead-eyed when you’d drop by her dorm to say goodnight after spending the entire day with Ajax. She constantly bombared you with questions…

“Where were you?”

“Were you alone with him?”

“Why do you feel the need to constantly be in his presence?”

And every time, you’d give her the same answer.

“I can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a lie, you genuinely couldn’t for the life of your own sanity and Ajax’s. She’d shut up after your responses, to your surprise, and give you a small goodbye before shutting the door in your face.

You felt bad, and you’d only hope your plan would work out in the end. Your shreds of hope being thin didn’t ever help your nerves as the days passed by like television calendar montages, paper after paper being discarded because you just couldn’t form your emotions right.

In the present timeline, your head was lulled down as you made your way through the halls of Ophelia, walking down the pathway mindlessly with your feet stuttering a bit as if you were a drunkard. Your hand rummaged in your pants, desperately trying to get a grip on the slippery key, and you shut your eyes in contentment when you pulled the metallic object out of your pocket.

“Finally.” A mutter was vocalized from nobody but you, rubbing your eyes with your other hand from your need for rest as you trudged up to your dorm room door, the space empty as your former roommate had recently faced expulsion for a reason that was still classified as unknown. You shoved the key into the lock with might, hand clasping over your mouth as you let out a deep yawn, feet stuttering once more into the room.

You were tired, but even saying that was an understatement. You felt close to death, your classes taking their normal toll on you, and you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to help Eugene get his bees in control at the tiring hour of 5:30 a.m. It had been nineteen hours since you had awakened, and last time you checked, that wasn’t a good thing in your books.

The bright lights lit up the room immediately after flipping the switch, verbally groaning, and shutting your eyes as you walked further into the room. You soon faced your closet, squinting your eyes as you searched for a fresh pair of pajamas, but your eyes flew open, and you let out a small yelp at the voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Back so late?”

“Fuck, Wednesday!” You jumped, your hands flying to your chest in an attempt to calm your breathing. Through your widened eyes, you noticed the girl sitting on your former roommate's bed, hands intertwined and set on her lap, her posture straight, and her eyes bored into your figure. “You are aware it’s midnight, right? What’re you doing here?”

“I could only presume you were aware of the time too.” Wednesday stood up, her posture still straight, and she walked toward your study desk, fixing up the mess that consisted of pencils and papers strewn out. “Curfew was two hours ago.”

You grabbed a plain black shirt from your closet, turning to give her a quick ‘really?’ look. “Yes, because I bet you care so much about curfew. Need I remind you of the times you forced me to break the rules last year?” The gothic girl didn’t reply, shuffling your papers into one thick stack.

“It was for commendatory reasoning. I know nothing about your trips; carry on the fact that you prefer to keep them private, but I can assure myself that what it is that you’re breaking curfew for isn’t an adequate reason.” She spoke calmly, well-paced, and formally; you could only mentally snarl at her quick-wittedness.

You moved to your drawers, pulling out the first pair of shorts that revealed themselves. Wednesday faced you now, her eyes never leaving your figure as she awaited a response from you. Her eyes were filled with their normal sense of death and destruction, but almost had a small glint of… sadness?

“And yet,” you started off, shutting the drawer closed and throwing the clothes on your bed, “here you are, in my dorm instead of yours. If you’re going to berate me for rebelling against a simple curfew, at least don’t be a hypocrite about it.” 

“What were you doing today?” She disregarded your words; her body leaned against your study desk, and your head turned to face her, eyes unconsciously raking over her body from her shoulders to her legs. “It’s like you want to hear the same answer every time.”

“I’d rather not.” She pushed herself off your desk, the lingering of your eyes over her body not going unnoticed, a small smirk begging to form against her lips. “I was hoping to get a different answer from you—the truthful one, you could call it.”

“The truthful one?” You questioned. She did a curt nod, her bangs jumping slightly from the movement. “Fine. I went to Séance Society at 1:30, Archery Club at 2:30, and then Ajax and I went into town. We stopped at the Weathervane for coffee and to do homework, then we walked around before we went to a corner store to buy snacks. We waddled all the way back to the school grounds, and here I am.”

At the end of your sentence, you pointed to your shoes, marking your location. Wednesday only sucked her teeth, taking a step forward before crossing her arms. “And?”

Your lips thinned, with dimples popping out at the action, and you tried your hardest not to create an outburst. You questioned how you'd managed to develop a crush on her when she drives you crazy. “That’s it. Why do you care so much?”

Wednesday’s expression didn’t change, but she was having a mental battle with figuring out an excuse to say that would sound like her. “You are my friend, and I care about my friends.” That didn’t sound like her at all. “I must know your whereabouts at all times for your safety.”

“Bullshit.” You stated, your gaze now fixed on her. “You wouldn’t ever admit that, meaning that those words were an on-the-spot lie-”

“Well, we’re not on the topic of me right now.” She interrupted, annoyance lacing her voice at your accusations—your true accusations. “We’re conversing about you and your secrecy. Tell me what you do with him; I’m not asking anymore.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you let out an agitated huff at her sternness. Your mind was in a battle, deciding whether today was the day or if you should just tell her half the truth. Would Ajax kill you? Maybe, but your confidence was at an all-time low, and you had no other options.

“Ajax’s been discussing with me a... uhm, sort of... plan about Enid. Ajax has a crush on her, and we’ve been figuring out a way for him to, er, confess his feelings to her so they can date. Yeah…” 

God, did you suck at lying, and Wednesday could see right through you. She advanced toward you this time, and from the distance between the two of you, you could see the mixed emotions welling up in her gaze. “What else?”

“Wh-that’s it, Wednesday. I swear-”

“But your swears mean nothing.” Ouch. “You couldn’t hold eye contact with me; your words were faltering; your fingers were itching at your arm; and your voice was half an octave higher. I firmly believe you are truthful in your speech about Ajax and Enid, but you’re lying to me about it being the whole truth.”

You gulped, your brain shredding under her gaze, and you thought hard. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5-

“Fine!” You huffed, stomping to the front door and crouching down to pick up the bag that you left. Wednesday would rather die than admit that she mentally flinched at your tone, watching as you ruffled around in the bag before pulling out a journal.

“Now is not the time to ask for my help on your homework, (Y/L/N).” You shook your head at her words, walking back to where you stood before and opening up the journal on a random page. Inside that page was a folded piece of paper, and your fingers twitched as you went to pick it up.

To say your nerves were at their peak would be a trivialization when you looked up and saw Wednesday standing directly in front of you, staring at you with narrowed eyes. You drew your hand out in her direction, silently telling her to take the paper, which she did not. “What is that?”

“Read it and find out. Not today, though! Tomorrow seems like a goo-” Wednesday took the paper, carelessly opening it, and her eyebrows scrunched when she saw how much was written. She looked up at you with curious eyes, not preparing to be outside your dorm room with the door slammed in her face a couple of seconds later.

You sank into the door, hands over your face, and you screamed, the sounds of embarrassment muffled. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” You repeated, bolting away from the door, settling into your chair, and gasping for air. You sat there for about thirty seconds, though it felt like hours, when a knock was placed on the door.

"Y/N, open the door," Your ears pick up Wednesday's voice, which is quieter than you anticipated and infused with a rare warmth. She sounded sincere rather than irritated or sarcastic.

You took a deep breath, getting up from your chair and going to unlock the door while swallowing your anxiety and peering out to see Wednesday's frustrated expression.

"Look, I know this is unexpected," you started in a voice that was shaking. ”However, what I stated in that letter is real. Wednesday, I've liked you for a while.”

It was like a major weight was taken off of your shoulders. You had finally confessed to the girl you’d been chasing for over a year, and you watched a battle happen through her eyes, multiple emotions mixed in her mind and overdosing her brain.

There’s a slight shift in Wednesday's mood, and you can see the turmoil in her eyes. "I do not understand why you would think that about me. I'm not exactly the easiest person to be around," she acknowledged, her tone containing a hint of vulnerability. Your eyes softened at her words, a pang of sympathy coursing through you for the girl. 

She had been so despised, so targeted, even if most of it was her fault, that it broke her down — broke her mindset down into believing that she was unlovable, even by her friends.

You take a step forward, your attention fixed on her. "You may not realize it, Wednesday, but you are incredible. You're powerful and unique, and I respect how you remain loyal to yourself regardless of what people say. Your willingness to go against standards intrigues me."

Her usually stoic face shows a small crack, a glimpse of uncertainty. "I've never been in a situation like this," she confessed quietly. You found that hard to believe; the beauty of the girl was something you drowned in most days, but you knew that it was the truth because people were afraid of her. Never you, though.

With a gentle smile, you say, "Me neither, but that's okay. If you let me, we can figure it out together."

Wednesday keeps silent for a second before taking a cautious step closer to you. "You make me feel... different, too," she confesses, carefully choosing her words. You clench your jaw to fight off the large grin that threatens to form on your face, and your heartbeat remained fast-paced, but for a different reason this time.

You reach out, taking her hand with caution in your movement. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable in anyway, but she reassured you when she gave your hand a light squeeze. “We don’t have to figure out anything right now. Consider this… confession?” You gave her a small smile, and it grew wider when your eyes fell on the corners of her lips, watching them twitch into the smallest smile.

“Confession.”

☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug

[celiastjamesoscar]

Luminous Waters

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader

Summary: You drag your girlfriend Wednesday to a beautiful pond that you discovered and enjoy the stars together.

Warnings: slight grave digging, Wednesday attempts to drown R

Word Count: 3.1K

My masterlist

A/N: I rushed this and I hate how it turned out; I just wanted to post something for Wednesday before I posted my big one for her 💀

The wooded floors of Ophelia Hall creaked as you tipped-toed your way down it. It was almost midnight and several hours past curfew, but now was the perfect time to show Wednesday your discovery.

You had been galavanting around the grounds of Nevermore when you discovered a beautiful pond hidden away from the rest of the world. It was as if it was your own personal portal into another world that reminded you of fairy tales and happy-ever-afters.

You slowly approached Wednesday’s door and used the spare key she had given you to unlock it. You quietly shut the door and moved toward Wednesday’s bed. You approached her sleeping figure and whispered, “Wednesday, wake up.” The girl’s eyes snapped open as she leaned in bed and looked around before her eyes landed on yours. Despite her expressionless face, her eyes had a hint of bewilderment as she shook the sleep from her body.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” She asked with worry laced in her voice as she moved from her bed and gently placed her hands on your forearms.

You smiled at the contact before whispering, “Come on, follow me.” The girl gave you a death glare but got dressed and ready anyways.

“Where are we going?” She questioned as she followed you out of the school and into the woods. Usually, she would not hesitate or ask questions about a midnight adventure, but this was you. You were known for your sporadic activities that usually landed you in weekend detention, which is how you met Wednesday, your girlfriend of four months.

You were in chemistry class and messing around in the lap when you accidentally made a bomb and earned yourself detention. As a punishment, you had to help clean out the greenhouse that belonged to former teacher Marilyn Thornhill when you met Wednesday. She was closed off at first, but when you told her what you got a detention for, she soon revealed that she received one for trying to burn down the sheriff's station.

The two of you bonded over your shared love for the darker arts and soon found yourselves thrown together for detentions, and after a while, the two of you began studying together. You were in desperate need of math help, and to your surprise, Wednesday offered to help you, and she was actually a good teacher. Even though she sometimes threatened to murder you in your sleep, you enjoyed spending time with her.

After a few weeks of studying had passed, you two eventually started hanging out on a more personal level together. Ranging from movie nights together to digging graves; your ‘hangouts’ with Wednesday were everything but boring.

“Word harder,” Wednesday commanded you. The two of you were three feet deep in the grave of a former aristocrat. You both had shovels in your hands, sweat glistened on your faces, and hair stuck to your faces as you two continued your digging. “I’m trying!” You whined as you wiped sweat from your forehead with your forearm. Wednesday had been remarkably eager to get this grave dug up, and it was slightly driving you mad.

This was one of your more formal hangouts with Wednesday, and she wanted to impress you. You usually dug up the graves of farmers or people who might help the goth girl with her cases or novel. You two seldom dug up the graves of rich people, so this was a ‘proper date’ in Wednesday’s eyes.

She didn’t know when she had acquired feelings for you; maybe it was your soft, gentle nature that contradicted everything about her, the way you shared her love for darkness, or the way you never treated her any differently. The only thing she knew was she cared for you far too profoundly than she did other people, and she couldn’t fight her urges to kiss you.

So when your shovel hit against the coffin, you were getting ready to cry out with joy when Wednesday dropped her shovel, grabbed your jaw, and pulled you down into her. “Wednes-” was all you could get out before you felt the goth girl’s soft lips against your own.

It was gentle and slow, exactly how you had imagined kissing Wednesday. Your lips moved together in a slow dance as your hearts beat with anticipation and eagerness, and just as you deepened the kiss, a booming voice called out, “Hey! What are you doing over there?”

You and Wednesday pulled apart and saw the graveyard attendee shining his flashlight on you. You quickly stood out of the grave and helped Wednesday out before running through the cemetery hand in hand as the guard chased you. After leading him on a foot chase, you two left the cemetery and returned to Nevermore.

Stopped just outside the gates of Nevermore, you breathlessly looked over at Wednesday, who seemed to be having an internal battle with herself. She was never one to be short of words; she was a writer, of course, but now, as she stared up at your love-filled eyes, her brain refused to work. So she swallowed her pride and said the first thing that came to her mind: “Die.”

You were completely shocked at her word and were utterly confused; she had kissed you mere moments ago, and now she was telling you to die. “You just had your tongue down my throat, and now you’re telling me to die?” You asked, exaggerating the kiss a little bit.

Wednesday huffed at your words but moved closer and pulled you into a searing kiss once more. Your lips moved together as you kissed the smaller girl back with force, and you moved your hands to wrap around her waist, pulling her against you.

When oxygen became a problem, you pulled back and rested your foreheads together. “Do you still want me to die?” You questioned with a sly smile on your lips. Wednesday kissed the words before grabbing your hand and leading you through the gates, “At this current moment, yes. You make me feel like I am in heaven and hell all at once; I want to shower you with meaningless affections, and at the same time, I want to strangle you,” the goth girl finished speaking as she led you through the halls of Nevermore and up to Ophelia Hall.

She stopped outside her door and studied your face; you had a smile on your lips, and your eyes had a hopeful glint that refused to leave her own. “Meet me at midnight tomorrow at the same grave,” Wednesday spoke quietly before she entered her room and shut the door.

When you returned to the grave the following night, Wednesday had set up a beautiful picnic, and you had to fight back a laugh at the sight: a red checkered cloth on the ground next to a desecrated grave and a straw picnic basket with black dahlias on a vase.

The two of you enjoyed a quiet meal together and occasionally talked about your plans for the next few days. When the meal was finished, you laid back on the blanket and stared up at the stars. There wasn’t a cloud in sight as the stars and moon shined brightly in the open sky. You were so busy in your thoughts that you overlooked Wednesday, who was shifting her weight and lying down next to you. Slowly, she inched her fingers toward your own, and laced your fingers together. You looked over your shoulder and sent the more petite girl a smile that was only reserved for her before letting go of her hand and gently laying your head on her stomach.

The feeling startled Wednesday; she never had someone this close to her, but she welcomed the new feeling. Slowly, she lifted her right hand and gently ran her fingers through your hair and slightly smiled when she heard you sigh in relief. The two of you enjoyed the silence as you stared up at the stars together, not wanting to break the peaceful quiet that had fallen over the cemetery.

“Would you allow me to court you?” Wednesday asked suddenly with a hushed tone as if she spoke any louder, you would disappear into thin air. You moved from Wednesday’s stomach and propped yourself up on your elbow as you lay beside the smaller girl who refused to meet your gaze. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” You asked as you poked Wednesday in the stomach with your free hand.

She scoffed at your words and jabbed you much harder in the stomach before moving her head to look at you. “I am not asking you to be my girlfriend; a question like that is only for small-minded children who don’t understand the concept of romantics and people who have no serious intentions of a relationship. I am asking you if you will allow me to court you,” she stated as her eyes glanced at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“Okay, then. I will allow you to court me,” you said with hearty eyes as you leaned down to place a chaste kiss on Wednesday’s forehead. The smaller girl’s cheeks heated up at the action, and shook off the spiders crawling in her stomach. “Good,” She said as she grabbed your neck and pulled you down to kiss her.

And now, four months later, you pulled Wednesday into a vast forest that surrounded the grounds of Nevermore into the heart of the tranquil forest. It was embraced by the soft embrace of moonlight filtering through the canopy of trees. The leaves rustled gently in the nocturnal breeze, creating a symphony of whispers that echoed through the woods as you dragged Wednesday through the woods.

“Come on, Wednesday, it will be fun,” you begged as you pulled gently on her hand. As the moonlight bathed the foliage, the shadows danced upon the forest floor, alternating between patches of light and darkness. The silver glow cast an ethereal atmosphere, accentuating the natural beauty of the woodland, and Wednesday had to give it to you; this place was breathtaking.

‘It’s like Narnia, but for vampires, it’s breathtaking,’ was your description of the place, and, naturally, Wednesday was suspicious. But now, Wednesday wished she had listened to you sooner, even though she would never admit that.

The air was filled with the fragrance of damp earth and pine, carried by the cool night breeze. The nocturnal creatures stirred in the underbrush, their movements barely audible, adding an aura of mystery to the woodland that only intrigued Wednesday more.

“Here we are,” you said as you led Wednesday to the end of the path with a small, moonlit pond. A large tree was close on the water's edge with an old swing hanging above the glassy-smooth water, as they heard bats fluttering around them. The moonlight reflected off the water and painted the trees a light blue as the moon peeked through the treetops.

Wednesday watched as you removed your shoes and socks and dipped your toes in the water. “Come on, Wens,” you said before you dived into the water, completely clothed. She waited until you resurfaced before scolding, “What is wrong with you? You’re going to catch a cold.”

You scoffed at Wednesday’s words as you swam close to her and slashed her with water, causing her to pick up your shoe and throw it at you. “Hey! Watch it, you little ankle biter,” you exclaimed as you picked your shoe up from the water and slung it back onto the shore, water being flung from it as well.

“Stop calling me false names, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she took off her shoes and socks and sat on the swing, dipping her toes in the chilly water. “And how are you swimming in this water?”

“I’ll stop calling you ‘false names’ when they stop being true,” you reasoned as you swam over to Wednesday and stared at her with hearty eyes. “I thought you liked cold and creepy things, so why aren’t you getting in?”

At your comment, Wednesday kicked her foot and splashed water onto you, and some of it got in your eyes. You let out an exaggerated scream as your hands went to your eyes and began frantically rubbing them. “My eyes! I’m blind!” You screamed out as you swam a couple of feet away from Wednesday.

“Stop being a baby. You deserved it,” Wednesday stated as she continued kicking water at you. You groaned at your girlfriend’s words before shutting your eyes and swimming closer to the girl before grabbing her ankle and pulling her into the water. The more petite girl didn’t even have time to protest before her mouth filled with water, and her screams fell silent in the water as you laughed at her.

She spits out the water that had seeped into her mouth before playfully slapping your arm, “You are insufferable.” You laughed at her words as you swam close and wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into you. “Yeah, but you love it,” you replied as you placed a chaste kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead, and she hummed in response.

“That I do, cara mia,” Wednesday whispered as she kissed your lips. You smiled into the kiss, and before you could deepen it, Wednesday pushed your head under the water and held it there. You tried to fight against your girlfriend’s grip, but she was surprisingly strong for her size. You knew that she also had a morbid sense of humor and enjoyed the suffering of others; you didn’t think she would inflict it on you.

Before oxygen became a problem for you, Wednesday pulled you back above the surface and smiled as she watched you suck in breaths. “I hope you have learned your lesson, Y/N,” she said as she slowly drifted away from you and floated on her back.

You scoffed at her words before floating on your back as well. “And what lesson is that supposed to be, Wednesday? To never pull you into water or give you kisses?” You asked as you grabbed Wednesday’s hand and laced your fingers together.

“To think that I would care for such a mundane thing as kisses is absurd; I was referring to your idiotic move of pulling me into the water,” your girlfriend said as she pulled you closer to her; now your shoulders were touching as you two stares up at the starry night.

“Well, if they are so mundane, you better not sneak into my room anymore for late-night make-out sessions while Yoko is out,” you retorted as you looked over at Wednesday, who had a slight frown pulling at her lips of not receiving your kisses anymore.

The past month Wednesday would sneak into your room for help on her ‘kissing techniques,’ and you loved every second of it. You knew that Wednesday just needed an excuse to taste your lips, but you didn’t dare to call her out on it. For Wednesday, once she kissed your lips, she knew she was doomed. The feeling of your soft lips against her own was her lifeline now, and she would surely perish if she went longer than a day without feeling them against hers.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Wednesday dryly stated. You had to bite back a laugh as your girlfriend’s frown grew larger. “You’re right,” you said as you pulled your conjoined hands to your lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of Wednesday’s hand. The two of you returned to staring at the stars, basking in the silence and love you felt for each other.

After fifteen minutes had passed, you softly said, “I love looking at the stars.” Wednesday hummed at your words; she already knew of your love for them but didn’t quite understand why. “What do you mean?” She asked quietly.

“Looking up at the stars makes me feel small. But in a good way,” you said with a small smile.

“I cannot comprehend that feeling small would make you feel good,” Wednesday commented as she watched you let out a small laugh.

“You’re overthinking it, Wens. Whenever something bothers me, or I get stressed out, I pull back to get some perspective on the world. It all seems kinda silly and pointless when you think about your problems in terms of the cosmos and all the galaxies surrounding us, you know?” You admitted with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

Wednesday took in your words for a few moments before speaking, “I suppose that does make sense.” She knew you loved philosophy and the grand scheme of things, and it’s one of the many things she adored about you. “I admire your love for critical thinking, Y/N. Even though it seems you hardly think at all sometimes,” she joked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her comment.

“I don’t use my brain all the time because the great powers I have stored away could kill someone,” you said as you gently floated away from Wednesday but pulled on her hand and came crashing into her side. She scoffed at the action but pulled you closer to her; you two enjoyed the silence and the midnight sky as you floated in the cold water.

After enough time in the water, your teeth began chatting, but you didn’t want to ruin this moment. “Let us return to Nevermore before you become completely useless,” Wednesday stated as she let go of your head and swam to the shore. You whined when you lost her hand but grudgingly approached the goth girl.

A few minutes into the walk, you began to shiver, while Wednesday couldn’t be bothered by the cold clothes that clung to her skin. “I told you not to swim in your clothes,” Wednesday warned.

You huffed at her words and wrapped your arms around yourself, desperate for body heat. “Technically, you never told me not to swim in my clothes. You just told me I would catch a cold.”

“And I hope you do,” Wednesday dryly replied. She told you that you would catch a cold, so she smiled to herself when she heard your teeth start to clatter again.

When you two returned to Ophelia Hall, you were nearly frozen to death, while Wednesday couldn’t have been bothered. It drove you mad how the girl seemed indifferent about her soaking wet clothes, but you appreciated how she walked you to your dorm room. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, Wednesday. I had fun with you,” you said through shivering teeth as you rubbed your hands on your arms.

“I also had a pleasant time with you, mon cher,” Wednesday said as she placed a gentle kiss on your lips one last time before going back to her room. She smiled when she heard you cough and sniffle; she knew she would have to take care of you and your illness tomorrow, and she couldn’t wait to rub it in your face.

[lisaslosingstreak]

Wednesday’s Writing Hour

A Losing Streak Headcanon

This is dedicated to all the Wenclair FanFic writers and illustrators, who don’t do it for the money or the fame, we do it because we love it.

So in canon we assume Wednesday forces herself to write for an hour a day, yes? How about that it isn’t that way - instead she LIMITS herself to an hour.

When she was seven she started writing and it soon became an overriding obsession. She wrote for several hours a day, some day from sunrise to sunset. She wrote a books worth of text every week, not of high quality but she just had to get it out of her head, she has so many ideas she had to get down on paper. It eventually affected her mentally, and even more socially. She didn’t need to talk about inane subjects with her class friends, and she became withdrawn and quiet cos time spent at school was time spent not writing which was incredibly difficult for her, it hurt.

Eventually her mother and Grandmama had to cast a spell over her which meant Wends could only write for an hour a day. At first this upset Wends so much but after a few weeks she found the quality of her writing skyrocketed. Everything she typed was of the highest quality., with zero mistakes and she had the ability to write with no prep notes or plans.

Her father bought for her the finest vintage typewriter and had made a set of special monogrammed boxes (that we see in canon) to hold her finished work neatly. Each book she wrote had its own box, several of which were at the Addams house but she brought 3 to Nevermore to store new works in. Each box is a finished work typed directly and perfectly done, ready to go to a publishers, no editing or proof reading needed.

This is why Wednesday NEVER misses her writing hour. It has become an hour of unadulterated pleasure for her, those sixty minutes her only chance to get the fully formed storylines in her head down on paper. It’s HER time to decompress, to take her brain out of gear and just create something wonderful.

Years later, Enid and Wends are married and they have a huge house. One room is dedicated to all these finely crafted wooden boxes with WA engraved in then. Several hundred of them which she drip feeds into publishers under a variety of fake names. Each one carefully retuned to its special custom made mahogany cabinet like an old library.

There is one special shelf with a locked glass door. These are smaller boxes which look mostly the same but which also have faint pink tinged inlays in them, and monogrammed EA instead.

On their wedding day Grandmama changes the spell, and allows Wednesday an extra half hour of writing a day, whispering to her that “you know what this is for, use it wisely”

That extra time is for her to write about Enid. She sometimes stays up late to use this extra time, sometimes wakes up early and kisses Enid before typing for those 30 minutes. Each time is used to write something for Enid, whose existence changed the way Wends thought. She had so many love confessions, poems and revelations she wanted to share with her wife and those thirty minutes were used for that. And each time afterwards Enid would find a slim box on their bed, or maybe in Enid’s little office, or in their plush drawing room. Each time a little note attached would say “with all my love, WA”. It would be the highlight of Enid’s day to read this little dedications of love, and she would treasure each one and file it away with the others.

Eventually they have a daughter Ophelia and at the age of four Ophelia pushes her way into Wednesdays writing room. Wends is torn cos she loves her crazy little daughter so much, her blonde hair all in disarray and carrying a little black covered notepad and a little case full of coloured pencils. But she HAS to write, yes?

Enid watches from the door and her heart melts with pride as Wednesday, with great difficulty, forces herself to stop typing and bends down to pick Ophelia up and place her on her knee.

“What’s the matter little terror of mine?” she asks softly, trying to mask to pain she has caused herself by stopping writing.

“Mamma, can I come and sit with you and write a story myself?”

“There’s isn’t any spare room at my desk darling I’m afraid”

“We could sit on the floor mamma!”

And so it happened, a few minutes later that Wends was laid on a blanket on her front next to her daughter in her office, with a notepad and pencil, and wrote a short story with her.

The next day a new shelf was made in the library, with a row of small delicate cream boxes on it, all skilfully engraved OA, each with little bits of paper filled with messily scrawled writing on them, and more importantly little drawings to go with the little stories.

Because, as Ophelia insisted, what better way to make a story come alive than illustrate it?