Wednesday Addams - Tumblr Posts

the cave

Summary: You show Wednesday just how much she means to you.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: smut (awkward first time), swearing Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Wednesday’s grip on your chin never lessened as she held you still. Her knees were on either side of your hips while she sat directly in your lap. Well, no, she wasn’t sitting in your lap, she was full on straddling you. Your hands stayed planted to the ground, clawing at the blanket because you had no idea where to put them. Did you put them on her waist? Her thighs? Her arms? Oh geez.

"You're stiff," she mumbled against your lips.

She caught on, the voice said.

Yeah, no shit.

She pulled away slowly, her weight on your lap shifting ever so slightly. Her grip on your chin remained, but her eyes searched your face for something. Oh no, had you messed up already? God, you had barely even started, now you had blown it and you didn't even know how! Damn Nicky for never teaching you anything good!

"Would you like me to stop?" Wednesday asked, her softened gaze completely focused on you.

"Please no," you said a little too quickly. "I just- I don't- I don't know what to do."

Wednesday looked at you with the slightest furrow of your brow and a tilt of her head. It felt like you were being studied. Were you? Oh geez, you probably were, now you were probably just going to turn into her little lab experiment. You should've just gone right back to the dorm and gone to sleep, this was such a bad idea.

"You don't?" She asked, her tone neutral but with the smallest upward lilt at the end of her question. It would've been indiscernible to anyone else. Not to you.

"I've never done this before," you said even softer.

She didn’t say anything.

“I don’t even know what to do with my hands.” You chuckled nervously and held your hands up in between the both of you. “You know, like Ricky Bobby in-”

-your mouth closed immediately when Wednesday grabbed your hands. Her fingers were a little colder than normal from the cool spring air. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as she pulled your hands, using them to push the hem of her shirt up so she could place your hands on her bare waist. Now there; there she was warm. You gulped loudly at the same time she exhaled softly.

Fuck, her skin was soft. She let go of your hands and brought them back up to wrap around your neck, but you couldn’t take your eyes off where you were touching her. Her fingers played with the hair on the back of your neck as your thumbs lightly rubbed the skin on her hips. You were well aware that you two were in the process of something, but you just couldn’t stop.

Fucking virgin, the voice teased.

“Do you need step-by-step instructions?” Wednesday asked. You nearly jumped at the sudden intrusion to your mental debate with yourself. Or the voice. Ah, same difference.

“I-” be smooth “-or you could, you know, show me.”

She tilted her head again as you finally looked up to meet her eyes. Her pupils were still blown and thanks to the proximity you could practically hear her own heart racing in sync with yours. You wondered if she could feel your own pulse under her fingertips.

"I suppose I do have more knowledge on the subject," she said. Her breath fanned across your face, leaving your eyelids to flutter for the moment.

"I'm guessing your parents taught you more than mine," you joked with an awkward laugh.

It was a shitty joke. You quickly closed your mouth.

"You're nervous," she pointed out.

"Very," you admitted with a single nod of your head.

"Perhaps this will help."

There was the slightest pressure on your neck as Wednesday pulled you into a kiss. It was soft, almost painfully so. Like she was hesitant about something. And maybe she was, you had just admitted you had no idea what you were doing. Which you shouldn’t have done, you had a reputation to maintain.

A reputation that quickly went down the drain when she bit your bottom lip, drawing a very pathetic moan from you.

“Oh,” she mumbled against your lips; out of fear of seeing a smile, you kept your eyes closed. “This will be fun.”

She’s taunting you, the voice said when Wednesday kissed you again. She swiped her tongue along your bottom lip and you quickly parted your lips for her. She’s testing you, it continued. Your grip on Wednesday’s waist tightened. She reacted by lightly scratching the back of your neck. She knows you don’t know anything.

Oh, fuck that noise.

You held Wednesday tighter with one hand as your other went back to the blanket. Her grip on your neck stayed constant as you held her closer and - surprisingly - managed to flip you both until she was on her back and you were hovering over her. With a skill that you were secretly going to congratulate yourself for, not once did you ever have to break the kiss.

But then you froze. Okay, you had put yourself on top, but now what? Oh geez, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to prove a point. The scratching on the back of your neck lightened until Wednesday’s fingers were merely massaging the skin. That alone was enough to ease your racing pulse and your shoulders could relax once again. You exhaled softly through your nose.

Okay, you knew how this worked, it wasn’t rocket science. You knew how the female body worked, you knew what it looked like, you could do this. With your weight shifted to the hand on the ground, you let your other hand finally start to move. Wednesday shivered under your touch as your fingers grazed her side, moving up and stopping on her rib cage.

Your mind started racing when you felt the underwire of her bra. She would tell you to stop if she didn’t want you to, right? Wednesday was bold, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or tell you no. But, like, she would tell you, right? Yes she had initiated it, but you didn’t want to make her feel like she had to do anything, especially not on a cliff’s edge.

She tugged on your bottom lip again, forcing you out of your own head. You let out a shaky exhale when she let go, and you finally opened your eyes. She was looking at you with a softness that she usually reserved for when you were losing your mind. And, well, technically you were, but not in a bad way.

You didn’t have time to ask her if everything was okay, if she wanted you to stop. Wednesday pushed at your shoulders until you were sitting back on your knees and she sat up with you. She let your jacket fall off her shoulders to the ground before grabbing the bottom of her shirt, swiftly pulling it over her head until she was left in her bra.

In a move that was entirely cool of you, you turned your head away when she reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Now of all times you were going to try and be modest? The whole point of this was to be immodest! Would it be wrong to turn back? No, it would probably make you seem weird, you were being utterly ridiculous at this point-

-Wednesday grabbed you by the jaw and pulled your head back around until you were looking at her. She wasn’t quite laughing at you, but you could tell she wanted to. It was in the shameless smirk she was giving you as your face heated up at the mere fact that she was now topless in front of you.

Oh geez.

“You are allowed to look,” she said. You gulped loudly. Again. “In fact, it’s encouraged.”

“You’re making it very difficult to…” your words faded off into nothing as you finally turned your eyes back to look at her.

Oh Jesus fuck she was gorgeous. You knew she was stunning before, it had never even been a doubt in your mind but fuck. Every single thought in your head was silenced as you stared shamelessly. It wasn’t smooth, you probably looked rather ridiculous, but you just couldn’t help it. You could feel your wings puff up a little too.

Oh now that was embarrassing.

Wednesday pulled you with her as she laid back down on her back, leaving you leaning over her once again. She grabbed your hand that was hovering over her hip and guided it up, placing it on her ribs right below her breast. Your eyes kept flicking between her breast and her eyes, mesmerised by both.

God you were pathetic.

Your knuckles followed the curve of her breast before brushing lightly against her nipple. She inhaled a little sharper than usual, and your gaze flew up to watch her face. Her eyes opened slowly; incredibly out of character for her. Your wings twitched.

Well, that was a good reaction. Okay, you could do this. You repeated the action, watching Wednesday’s face carefully for any sort of change or indication of what she liked. Again, she inhaled sharply and her eyes closed for a moment. Okay, don’t be weird, you thought before leaning forward to kiss her again.

Her arms wrapped around your neck again, holding you to her. You continued with the gentle touches, brushing your knuckles over her nipple, occasionally rolling it between two fingers. Now that nearly got a noise out of her; not quite, but it was pretty damn close.

You moved your hand to place it on the ground, ignoring her little noise of protest as you shifted your weight and brought your other hand up. She stopped, sighing softly when you did the exact same thing as you had to her other breast. You weren’t stupid, you could get the hang of it, and her little sighs were more than enough to have your stomach turning in delectable knots.

But then Wednesday pulled away and held you still so you couldn’t follow.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your mind suddenly consumed with everything you could have done wrong.

She pinched the fabric of your shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “This needs to come off.”

Your mouth formed a small “o” before you nodded and sat up on your knees once again. The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you noticed Wednesday watching your every move. Nonetheless, you reached over your head to grab the back of your shirt and pulled, the velcro on the back pulling apart the moment it hit the base of your wings. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, it certainly wasn’t sexy, but it worked the way it was supposed to.

Almost as soon as the shirt was off, your wings shook themselves out before tucking tight against your back again. The dust from your feathers fell, and you felt that little tickle in your nose. There was no time for you to move before you sneezed, your wings extending at the action before taking their place again.

“Your sneeze is rather dainty,” Wednesday said, and when you looked back down at her she had a smirk on her lips once again.

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you let your body fall forward, catching yourself at the last second so you wouldn’t squish her.

You weren’t one to be self-conscious without clothes. Thanks to your wings, you had grown up needing help with things anyway, so most people had seen you without at least some article of clothing. But as Wednesday stared at you like you were nothing more than a piece of meat, you felt your face heat up and your heart race.

Her hands studied every inch of skin that she could reach. Over your neck, your shoulders, down your arms. Each time she would touch the sensitive scars, a shiver would travel down your spine, leaving your wings to ruffle in reply. It was almost humiliating that you couldn’t handle even just that simple touch, but you would keep your mouth shut if it meant she wouldn’t stop.

“Do you still require guidance?” Wednesday asked even as she continued running her fingers over your hips.

“I-” you closed your mouth and considered what you were about to say. 

Did you need more guidance? Not that you necessarily needed it, but did you want it? It would probably help so you could figure out what you were doing. But then again, the fun part was figuring it out, learning what she enjoyed and what she didn’t. Besides, it was Wednesday, she would warn you if she didn’t like something. It might be a violent warning, but a warning nonetheless.

“No,” you finally said slowly, drawing the word out as you looked back at her. “As long as you let me know if something doesn’t feel good.”

“That’s acceptable,” she said, finally looking back up at you.

“Okay,” you said with a few erratic nods. But then you froze.

Did you just… get to it? You knew what you wanted to do, but how did you build up to it? Or maybe you should just go for it, Wednesday always liked when you took initiative. But you really needed to check with her to make sure it was okay, you didn’t want to seem aggressive or anything like that. Fuck, why were you making this so complicated, it wasn’t a difficult thing!

“May I offer a suggestion?” Wednesday asked.

You sighed. “Yes.”

“It might be helpful if we both removed the rest of our clothes,” she said, her eyes gesturing down to where you were both still wearing pants.

“Well I knew that,” you grumbled. “I just… didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“And you all believe I’m the one with trust issues,” she said. She was teasing you again. “Trust that I will tell you if I’m uncomfortable.”

Her little smirk was gone, now replaced by a soft look. No smile, that would be misleading, but just soft eyes. You nodded slowly, for once unable to get any words out of your mouth. Trusting her was definitely something you could do. If you trusted anyone, it was her.

You looked at her with raised brows for a moment, just to double check she was okay before you let your hand fall to the waistband of her shorts. Well, no, they were your shorts, and you could tell because of how far they fell down her legs. The sight of her in your clothes never failed to initiate that spark in your core, and your mouth went dry before you started moving again.

With yet another look at her to double check, she rolled her eyes playfully but nodded and you sat back to pull the shorts slowly down her legs. You let your fingers brush against the skin of her thighs as you continued to marvel at each inch that was revealed to you. Thankfully she had gotten rid of her shoes at some point - you honestly couldn’t say when - so it was easy enough to rid her of the shorts.

If she would let you, you would have stayed kneeled in front of her for millenia. You would have set her upon a pedestal so you could worship at her feet until the day you died. There was nothing you loved more than anything else, instead just admiring every inch, every freckle, every curve.

She shivered when your fingers traced the band of her black panties from one hip to the other. It was a beautiful contrast to her tanned skin. All the noise and thoughts and doubts in your mind started to pound on the inside of your skull, telling you to stop. For once, you pushed them back and leaned down, pressing a single soft kiss right below her navel.

Her usual scent was accompanied by something different, something far more intoxicating. You placed another kiss on her skin, leaving a trail to her hip. The muscles of her stomach jumped, and you could feel her thighs tense up. You made sure to give extra attention to her other hip as you let your hands massage her inner thighs, being gentle but firm.

You stopped when you made your way back to her stomach, your fingers toying with the piece of fabric that was, quite frankly, in the way. Would it be too soon to take them off? No, you thought, just do it. As you slid the fabric down Wednesday’s legs, you followed it with soft kisses. Above you, you heard a hushed exhale. With one final kiss right on her pubic bone, you pulled away.

Wednesday’s sigh turned into a grumble when she noticed you weren’t where you were supposed to be. It was dark, but you could imagine the scowl she was sending your way. Any other time you would have teased her, but at the moment you were too focused. You slid back until you could lay on your stomach and hooked your arms around her thighs. She gasped lightly when you pulled her closer.

Even though you had never done it before, you weren’t stupid, you knew how this worked. If you waited any longer then you would work yourself up until you were too anxious to continue. Without giving yourself more time to back out, you leaned forward and licked one long strip from her entrance to her clit, and oh god was she delectable.

The littlest whimper you pulled from her was all it took for you to lose any sense of gentleness. Your grip on her thighs tightened as you dove back in, eating her out like it was your first meal in years. It was sloppy, but the way Wednesday’s heels dug into your back painfully was more than enough motivation to keep going.

A mix of a groan and a moan left your mouth when one of Wednesday’s hands went to your head, holding you closer to where she wanted you. No, at this point it was where she needed you. And who were you to deny the love of your life? She instructed you on what felt best, and you were thankful you were a fast learner. 

You focused on her clit when you felt her thighs start to shake, and you knew the exact moment you pushed her over the edge. It was in the way her thighs clenched around your head and her nails dug into your scalp. Her heels pressed tight against your back, right above your wings. And it was in the whimper she let out, the loudest sound you had heard from her throughout the entire night.

Your movements slowed down as you eased her back down to earth. Only when her thighs released you did you stop, moving instead to leave kisses on the insides of her thighs. She tasted of salt from the sweat you had both worked up, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was if she had enjoyed herself, if she had felt good, if you had proved just how much you loved her.

Both of Wednesday’s hands held your face and pulled gently, and you quickly moved back up her body until you were directly above her again. It was a little too dark for you to see all the features of her face, but you could see her looking at you. All the thoughts and doubts started to come rushing back.

But when she pulled you down into a kiss, soft and gentle and loving, the thoughts faded, dissipating into the very wind that surrounded you both.

“I love you,” you said softly against her lips.

“I love you too, cara mia,” she whispered back, pulling you down into another kiss.

Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian  @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove @karsonromanoff  @elduster @mil0isvalid @dogsayswoof

Friends? (Part 4)

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: After your encounter with your mother, you go back to your time, and to your girlfriend Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none (?) a/n: this might be the last partttt (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

When you opened your eyes again, you were back in your room, in your girlfriend’s arms. She was awake already but seemed lost in thoughts. You tilted your head up and kissed her jaw softly, letting her know you were awake too.

She looked down to you and pressed her lips on your forehead.

“Good morning”

“Wends, you’ll never guess what I saw!” you started, so excited to tell her about your mom

“What did you see, cara mia?”

You both repositioned yourselves on your bed in a more comfortable position to talk.

Your eyes were shining the whole time you talked. You looked so happy to finally know who your mother was…

“And you? Did you see anything?” you asked your girlfriend, a bright smile still on your face

Wednesday’s eyes scanned your face for a split second, as if she was taking in your features and traits. Again, she seemed lost in thoughts.

She woke up in a room, in Nevermore, but it was certainly not yours. The decoration had changed, and you were nowhere to be found. The raven frowned, confused. You were in her arms just moments ago, you couldn’t have disappeared like that.

She took a moment to examine the room with attention to try to understand what was going on. The decoration was quite pleasant to her; she could’ve decorated her room like that. But it was clearly not her room.

She was about to look at a picture on a shelf when the door burst opened. Surprised by the unusual discretion of the person, Wednesday jumped slightly, and took out the knife she always had in her pocket. A knife you had gifted her on one of your dates after hers broke.

The other person didn’t seem to have noticed her yet. It was a girl, who was looking for something into a drawer.

The raven took a few steps closer, silently, but the other girl seemed to hear it because she quickly turned around. Out of reflex, Wednesday’s knife found its place close to the other’s throat.

Surprisingly, the girl had a knife as well and it was also close to the raven’s throat. That was very unusual now.

“Who are you?” the girl asked

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Wednesday replied, unimpressed

“I asked first! You have to answer first, that’s the rules”

Wednesday held back a little smile. It was totally the kind of thing you could say.

“My knife is closer to your throat.” she simply said

The girl looked at the knife, and it was clearly closer to her. She rolled her eyes and mumbled:

“I knew I had to practice more” she then looked back at Wednesday “Truce? We put the knives aside and then we can talk?”

The raven considered the suggestion for a second, before giving her a slight nod. They both put their weapons down at the same time but stayed alert.

“So?” Wednesday said again, becoming impatient

“Yes, sorry. I’m Lilith”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Addams. With two D’s” the girl declared as if people made the mistake very often

The raven was surprised, to say the least.

“Does Fester have a child he never told us about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow

“What? Why are you- How do you know- What is happening?”

“I didn’t know there was another Addams in Nevermore…” Wednesday mumbled to herself

“‘Another’? What do you mean?”

“I’m Wednesday Addams.” she simply replied

Lilith’s eyes widen at her words, and her mouth formed a perfect O.

“That’s why you look so familiar! But- how- I mean-”

She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence and got cut off by the door opening again. Wednesday’s eyes shifted to the person who opened it. It was an older version of you in her mid 30’s.

“Honey, is everything okay? You’ve been gone for a long time, we-” Wednesday’s gaze met ‘yours’ “Wednesday…? What the-”

You turned to Lilith, confused, then back to Wednesday.

“What is happening here?”

“I don’t know! I just wanted to show you the snowball, and then she was in my room! I swear mom, I-”

“Mom?” Wednesday repeated with wide eyes

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do. Wednesday noticed a ring on your left ring finger.

“Lilith, baby, can you find your mother and tell her she needs to come right now?” you finally said

The girl looked at you, then nodded before going out of the room, not without a last glance towards Wednesday.

“Okay um… Hi? I guess?” you said awkwardly “Do you know how you got here, maybe?”

“… Y/n?” was all that the raven managed to say

You smiled at the sound of your name.

“Yes, it’s me. I take it as I didn’t age badly” you chuckle softly

“Oh, you clearly didn’t…” she looked you up and down “I have… no idea how I got here.” she then admitted

“What do you remember? Anything in particular?”

“We found a ritual in Goody’s spellbook but it didn’t work. And then we went to bed. That’s all.”

“The… the ritual? Oh god… Oh god…!” Your surprised expression soon turned into an offended one “So you didn’t wake up yet? I didn’t tell you anything about what I saw yet?”

The raven shook her head.

“Oh my god…” you put your hands on your hips

She was about to say something when the door opened again, revealing an older version of herself this time.

“Cara mia? What’s wrong? Lilith told me-”

“Wednesday Friday Addams!” you said, not letting her any more time, your index poking at her chest “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Confusion was visible on her face. Then she looked over to her younger self, and her expression changed to an amused one.

“Oh, so it’s today?”

“Don’t dodge the subject! You told me you saw nothing!”

“Sorry my love, I did not want to risk our future”

You rolled your eyes but had a little smile on your face.

“You were scared I wouldn’t marry you if you told me? I would’ve married you even if you had a third arm or something”

Her expression softened a bit more, and she kissed you softly.

“Let’s talk about that later, okay?” then she turned to her younger self “you have the answer you wanted, don’t you?”

“No. I didn’t see anything.” she gave you one of those smiles only you got to see “But it’s normal as I didn’t have any question.”

“Oh, right, sure” you said with a light chuckle, before your gaze fell on your alarm clock “Oh, shit! We need to go to class!”

You quickly got out of bed and ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Wednesday watched you from the bed, halfway between amused and exasperation, looking at the date on your phone: ‘Sunday 12 May’.

I am going to marry an idiot… My idiot.

[Previous part]

You have no Idea how happy this made me <3

Enid, giggling: what word has the most letters in it?

Wednesday: I believe the longest word is Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

Enid:….mailbox. The answer is mailbox

Monster Like Me (Tyler x Addams!reader)

Monster Like Me (Tyler Galpin x Addams!reader) Word Count: 3888 Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Warnings: mentions of prison treatment, bad mental health, self-hate, a gun, medical procedures, bloody crime scenes, and (obviously) SPOILERS for Tim Burton's Wednesday tv show on Netflix

Tyler Galpin doesn't regret what he did. Or so he liked everyone to believe, even himself. But a visit from a certain empath Addams girl to his prison has him reconsidering his true feelings five years on. Is he truly alone? Or is she a monster like him?

I was never planning on posting anything I write on this account but the show Wednesday inspired me to write a bit of flash fiction (so don't expect a sequel) that I thought you guys would appreciate. Just a silly idea but fun nonetheless to write.

The overhanging light in the interrogation room flickers, casting shadows of ghosts long gone on the two faces presently staring at one another. 

The boy sits in his chair rigidly, restricted. Despite his smirk - the kind that oozed charisma, carelessness, and smug satisfaction of being right where he wants to be - he looks uncomfortable. But that’s to be expected when one is bound in a straight jacket and chained to the ground. A catheter tube is strapped into the back of his neck, hooked up to a machine pressed against the back wall. 

A caged, raging animal. That is what he is. All he has been since the day he was brought in.

The girl still stands by the door, unwilling just yet to join the chained boy at the worn table that separated them.

Curious eyes scan the boy’s figure. His usually dishevelled curls are even more unruly than before he was taken away. Colour is drained from every inch of him - even his chestnut eyes hold no spark of fireplace warmth like they used to. His cheekbones protrude grossly from under his taught, moon-sick skin. The gashes from his fight with the wolf have long since healed, but as their eyes lock, she senses that the mental scars still remain. Still fresh in his young but twisted mind.

‘You look good,’ she says, breaking the suffocating silence.

The boy raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider, more lethal. ‘I’m so glad you noticed. It’s this new treatment I’m using called enslavement. Maybe you should try it some time. It might just bring some colour to your dead life.’

Oh yeah. Very fresh, still.

‘You mistake me for my sister,’ she says taking a step towards the table finally. ‘Unlike her, I won’t break out in hives at the mere sight of another colour other than black.’

His eyes darken at that, and the smirk twists into a sneer. A wave of fury hits the girl as they stare at each other again. He no doubt still hates Wednesday for ruining his life. And despite the fact that he is a psychotic, shapeshifting murderer, she can’t help but feel a little sorry for him at the thought.

‘I’m not here to talk about her,' she continues. 'I came here to talk about you.’

‘You mean you were sent here to talk to me. Not by choice.’

She nods. ‘Indeed, I didn’t have much say in the matter, but…’ She pulls the seat out and finally sits down, her eyes meeting his equal level with equal confidence. ‘I am here, nevertheless. And we will talk.’

The boy scoffs and leans back from the table, shaking his head. Her heart twinges slightly at how his curls droop low over his eyes as he does it, bringing flashbacks of the times they would sit like this and chat. Except the flashbacks included sitting opposite sides of a coffee table, and his curls bounced and drooped because he laughed.

Venomous, hateful eyes peer up through his sandy blond curls. ‘What’s there to be said?’

‘You can start by telling me how you’ve been since we all last saw you.’

‘Do I really have to spell that out for you?’

‘I can make an assumption, but I’m not one to assume without concrete evidence. You should know that.’

‘Should I, though? Because you and Wednesday made it pretty hard to get to even know what your favourite colours were.’

‘Now, do I have to spell that out for you?' The girl crosses her arms, attempting a bored posture. 'Wednesday is a black and white person. Literally. She never hides anything except her subjectivity because it is grey… and she hates grey, ironically enough.’

The silence that ensues is only made more ominous by the haunting shadows of the flickering over-head light. They act as masks as they pass over the twos’ faces, hiding, revealing, and changing their true emotions in flashes. 

‘Do you regret any of it?’ the girl asks softly, hesitantly.

The boy chuckles darkly. ’So we are going to talk about this, then.’

‘Eventually,’ she quips, ‘I just wanted to see if you would deflect or accept the bait.’

‘Did I pass your test, then?’ 

‘That is yet to be determined.’

She pulls up onto the table a briefcase - one of them olden day ones with buckles and latches but made of good quality black leather. Unlatching the main lock, she opens it and reaches in to pull out a manilla folder. With a carefree flick of her wrist, it lands just on the table’s edge in front of the boy.

‘Go on,’ she urges impatiently.

He looks at her incredulously, the snark and the anger from before now replaced by confusion. ‘Really?’

After a moment, she laughs, clinking the side of her head lightly with her palm. ‘Oh my, how silly of me! Forgot that being a psycho means you lose hand privileges,’ she says, her over-enthusiasm cracking a smile on her dark lips.

Before he can have a dig at her, she pulls out a key from her sweater’s sleeve, and he gives her a curious look.

‘How did you get that in here?’ he asks.

‘Wednesday might be the more daring and riskier of us two,’ she says, standing up to walk around to stand behind him, ‘but I have a more subtle way of being rebellious.’

She bends to start unchaining him, then moves to unbuckle the numerous straps holding his arms and legs restricted in his straight jacket. Once she is done, she walks back and sits in her chair, folds her arms, and waits for him to move.

He slowly moves his arms and legs, giving them a stretch he no doubt hasn’t been allowed to have in a long while. 

‘Better?’ she asks, her tone impatient.

He chuckles, dead eyes watching her wearily. ‘You must have a death wish, or something.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘Oh please. If you were going to kill me, you would’ve ripped out that gene-repressant medicine and changed into the Hyde by now.’ Her patience is wearing thin now as she leans forward, sparking her to push the manilla folder closer to the boy. ‘But you haven’t, which means I have your curiosity. And I intend to keep that. Now - look.’

His smirk returns, sharp as a knife. ‘You have my curiosity, I’ll give you that. But not my respect.’

The girl mutters something irritable under breath as she opens the briefcase to show something else hidden among the documents stashed inside. Something dark and shiny. Metallic. ‘Make one wrong move and I will-’

‘You’ll what?’ His following chuckle is mirthless, humourless, empty even of despair. ‘You’ll blow my brains out? I’ve heard that threat before.’

‘I was going to say I would blow my brains out,’ she corrects, patting the hidden gun lightly before withdrawing her hand. 'If only so you don’t get the satisfaction of ripping me apart yourself. And isn’t part of the fun hearing the screams of your victims... Tyler?’

That brings a small smile to his face, even if it does edge on manic. 'As much as I would love to chat about what fun it was killing all those people… I see what you’re trying to do, Addams.’

Wednesday was a much more memorable name than (y/n). To everyone back then, she was just her less-psychotic older sister that stood to the side quietly and pulled Wednesday out of trouble when needed. Still weird, but not weird enough, she supposed. But despite her seniority, she was never considered cool like Wednesday, who wasn't afraid to be who she was on a large scale. (Y/n) was happy to be herself too, but in the sanctity of the library, her bedroom, behind her camera. It's why she was subjected to being merely Addams. For the only cool and outcast-y thing about her was her lineage.

But Tyler never used that. Not once. It was always (y/n) when they hung as friends. And despite her objections to her nickname, hearing her real name always brought a little light into her dark and twisted life.

We're not friends anymore, though.

‘I’m not trying anything,’ she replies, batting her eyes innocently at him.

‘Oh yeah, then what’s with this folder? Why risk freeing me just so you don’t have to dirty your own hands?’

‘Why don’t you open the folder and find out.’

They’re dancing a dangerous dance, stopping each other at exactly the right moment when one wants to turn away. By the irritated look in his eyes, she knows it bothers him. 

He contemplates the folder for a moment, and she worries that he will try to escape. But he opens the folder, his boney hands shaking as he does.

Surprise softens his features for the first time since she’s entered the room, and he looks like he did the day her and her sister first met him in the Weathervane coffee shop in Jericho. Actually, his face was screwed up in annoyance the first day they met, having to deal with a broken coffee machine. But when Wednesday fixed it, his features softened, and the girl couldn’t recall a moment where someone had looked so… appreciative of their presence.

He flicks through pictures that were previously enclosed in the folder, slowly, shakily. Like he wants to make sure what he is seeing is true and not just ghosts. After all, for those of them on the outside of the prison, pictured in the photos, the boy was just a ghost to them now, five years on. 

The pictures are of the town, of the new and old structures that made it up, of the festivals that have come and gone since he last saw it. The pictures are of people, too. She watches him carefully as he holds onto those ones in particular. There is pain as he glides his fingers softly over the aging faces of his friends, she can sense it. His gaunt face tightens even more when he spies a particular pigtailed, dark-lipped girl, the photo capturing her in the middle of showing one of her infamous rare smiles. 

‘That was our graduation day,’ the girl says, her voice gentle and quiet. Anything louder seemed inappropriate. But she did not lose her edge. ‘Enid thought it would be a great idea to try and jump off the top of the fountain in the quad on our final day. She ended up breaking four bones and howling like a baby wolf. Wednesday found the whole thing… well, you remember how she was. Rest assured, she is pretty much the same.’

The boy traces the photo, his eyes wide with a wonder and tenderness that the girl is surprised to see. A flicker of the past lights up in his chestnut eyes, and a spark of hope ignites in her chest.

But that flicker dies out, his lips drawing up in a sneer as he suddenly rips the photo in half, then again, and again, until the photo is nothing but scraps on the table. ‘What the fuck is the point of all this?’ he asks, his voice of a mixture of both anger and hurt. ‘What does any of this have to do with me?’

‘It has everything to do with you,’ she replies. ‘Considering your reaction, I don’t believe you’ve fully let go of the past. That maybe after all this time… you still care.’

‘What? Are you a psychiatrist or something now?’

She shrugs. 'I’m an Empath, it’s unavoidable for me to not extrapolate and decipher people’s thoughts and emotions. Especially strong ones like yours.’

‘Well, you’re wrong,’ he snaps back, shoving the photos away. ‘I don’t care about the past. I don’t care about the future. I played my part and it pleased my master. That’s all that matters!’

‘I don’t believe that for a second. And neither do you.’

‘What do you know?’

‘A lot more than you think. As usual, you underestimate me.’

‘Well, try this.’ He slams his hands on the table so hard it makes a thunderous clap that is almost deafening. ‘The only thing that I care about is getting out of here and destroying Wednesday Addams. The only regret I have about the past is that I didn’t kill all of you when I had the chance.’

The words sting, undoubtedly, like a thousand bees stabbing her heart. But the girl holds still, willing herself to keep her composure. She’d heard from the Sheriff himself that his visits usually ended here, when the boy threw insults at his own father and drove him away.

Let’s see what happens when I keep pushing.

‘You speak with such hateful words,’ she says calmly, daring to look him straight in the eye. ‘And yet they hold no meaning.’

‘What?’ he hisses, spittle flaying from his furious sneer. 

'Sorry, do I need to speak in laymen’s terms? You. Don’t. Mean. That.’

A feral snarl erupts from him as his hand reaches over the table to grab at her throat. But her hand is in range of the gun, and she is quick to draw it from the bag, unlock the safety and push it hard against his forehead. He immediately stops, his fury dissipating slightly as he reassessed his new situation.

‘I said I’d blow my head off, but I never said anything about not shooting you first,’ she says, each word clipped with deathly promise.

They are so close she can feel his breath caressing her placid face. Surprisingly, it is fresh, like the gently falling snow starting to build up outside as winter settles in. The warmth it brings contrasts the cold of the room, and she stops herself from leaning closer just to feel the sensation once more.

A war wages in their eyes as they stare each other down, but she presses the gun more forcefully against his forehead, and he seems to take the hint. He takes deep breaths as he slowly backs away, his hands raised in mock surrender as he finally sits down.

‘Wise choice.’ The girl places the gun back in the briefcase, safety back on, and folds her hands on the table once more. As if they were just having a civil conversation.

‘You know, pushing people away isn’t the solution,’ she continues. ‘But it does tell me one thing.’

‘And what’s that, Doc?’ he asks, his smirk no longer as sure or as wide. He looks exhausted, the dark circles under his lifeless eyes indicative of the sleepless nights, the mistreatment to his body, the baggage he still carries but does not wish to anymore.

‘That you don’t want people to see you like this,’ she answers. ‘Especially those who love you, and who you love in return.’

‘They don’t love me,’ he spits, venom in every word. She senses that he truly believes it. ‘If they loved me, they would understand. If they loved me, they wouldn’t question why I did what I did. If they truly loved me, none of this would’ve even happened!’

His eyes redden with salty tears, and it is the enormity of his pain and hurt and sadness that has the girl resisting the urge to cry, too. 

He wipes at the tears that trail down his face, but still more fall. A beat passes, then another, and another until he calms down once more. His red eyes look over the photos again, brushing aside the picture he tore to inspect the rest. When he is done, he leans back and looks up at the girl.

‘Why?’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘Why what?’

‘Why are you not in any of these?’

‘This isn’t about me.’

‘How do you expect me to open up to you Addams after five years of not seeing you, and expect me not to ask you some personal questions?’

The girl shrugs. ‘Fair point.’ She gathers the photos and turns them to face her. She flicks through them herself, a gentle tilt of her lips the only indication of the joy the memories brought.

‘I’m a professional photographer now,’ she says after a moment. ‘I have a blog where I post the pictures and write about the things I photograph. I'm also commissioned for photoshoots, occasionally. Sometimes it’s places I visit, or people I get to meet. Sometimes they’re wonderful, but other times not so much.’ She takes a breath to compose herself, flashes of torn body parts and frozen bodies coming to the forefront of her mind. Crime scenes, no matter how many she visited, were always the worst jobs.

She wills the memories away before she continues. 

‘This is a collection of photos from my perspective. How beautiful the world is through my eyes.’

‘You don’t think you belong in that kind of world.’ 

It isn’t a question. The girl looks up, expecting the hateful eyes she’s come to know from him. Instead, she is met with curiosity and wonder. He stares at her openly, and she reciprocates.

‘Yes,’ she breathes, nothing lighter than a whisper. 

‘Why?’

She pauses to contemplate her answer. She is meant to be interrogating him, not the other way around. But his words come back to haunt her, and the truth ringing in them spurs her to speak. 

‘Because… I can’t see myself. It’s like I am ghost in my own body. I am surrounded by people who stand out, who have their own minds and hearts and stories to tell. From a young age I have felt other people’s wants and needs, desires and emotions that I have no business feeling. I feel them so intrinsically that I imagine those emotions and desires were my own. And if I think hard enough, I might just be able to… shut it off.’

‘Shut what off?’ he asks, though the caution on his face tells her he already knows.

‘Their humanity,’ she replies as quick as flicking a light switch on. ‘The very thing that makes them human. I can just turn it off at the snap of my fingers.’

‘I’m sure Wednesday would love that.’

‘It is not something I wish to impart on anyone.’ Her words silence his amusement, turning the room colder with the icy bite they come with. ‘Because once I switch it off, turning back on... has proven to be a challenge. And you may think Wednesday is a soulless, unfeeling creature, but her emotions are just locked away, carefully concealed and only to be revealed when the right person warrants it.’

She gives him a pointed glare, and he has the right mind to look ashamed. If only for a second. 

‘However slim it is, her humanity remains her sole reason to do what she does. Otherwise, I would’ve been sister-less a long time ago.’

‘That still doesn’t answer my question, Addams,’ he interjects. At this, he leans forward on the table, curls bouncing as he stares directly in her eyes. She remembers those eyes, how they smiled at her sister so many times. How they proclaimed their love for her sister so many times. How they bulged and raged and went insane as he transformed into the Hyde all those years ago. But now - now they seek answers, and something else.

‘Why do you think you’re a monster like me?’

A cynical smile stretches her lips as she leans back and gestures to the photos spread across the table. Of Xavier painting; of Enid and Ajax snuggled up the first time they went camping as a group; of Bianca and some other Fangs dressed up for the final Raven they all attended. All of them smiling, having fun, being human.

‘Because there’s a small part of me that would enjoy crushing their happiness,' she replies, the strength in her delivery reflecting the truth of her words. 'And good people don't think like that.’

The same cynical smile appears on his face, and for a moment it’s just them. Two monsters revealing their darkest desires.

‘I know the feeling,’ he says, and a flicker of guilt flashes in his eyes.

Hope sparks once more inside of her, and she does her best to sound genuine. ‘You’re a good person. Before Laurel got to you, and even now. I can see it. I can sense it.’

He shakes his head, his mirthless laugh echoing throughout the room. ‘Don’t try to brainwash me into thinking I can be saved. Because I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t fall for it. Like I said, I don’t regret what I did. I took pleasure in it.’

‘I’m sure you did, but you’re wrong. I’m not here to brainwash you.’

He cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her, curiosity winning over his resolve. ‘Then what are you here for?’

‘This is the longest conversation you’ve had with someone since you were first sent here,’ she said, packing the pictures up in the folder and placing it in her briefcase. ‘The people who brought me in may want me to help you open up and try to get you on a path of redemption. But I feel as if that is a decision you should make on your own. Obviously, I am biased to their aim, but I believe in freedom of speech, of choice, and of action when it comes to a person’s life.’

She stands from her seat and looks at him, the shadows from the flickering light no longer as scary as she first perceived. 

‘You’re a good person, Tyler,’ she repeats, her lips pulling up in her first genuine smile in ages. 'But, arguably, so am I. Everyone is capable of being good or evil. It then just comes down to what we want out of life, and how we utilise our flaws to attain that life.’

When the boy says nothing, she turns and walks to the door. She gently knocks on it, and a few seconds later it is opening and guards are flooding in and straight to the boy.

He struggles a little as they strap him back down, but stops when he realises the girl is leaving. ‘Wait! When are you coming back?’

She pauses at the door and turns, a chagrin smile on her dark lips. ‘Aw, are you going to miss me? Don’t worry, I’ll be back.’

‘But when, (y/n)?’

The fear in his eyes paired with the use of her name, her real name, almost causes her to falter, to stay just a bit longer. She senses the impending loneliness that he fears, that he has known these five years of incarceration, and the heaviness it brings causes her heart to ache with longing and hope. She must leave, but...

I can spare him one last goodbye, though.

She walks back over to where the guards hold him, their eyes locked the entire time. Once she’s close enough, she uses her pointer finger to tilt his head up to meet hers. 

‘Whenever I need to talk to another monster like me.’

With a flick of her finger his head drops and she is walking out of the interrogation room, already anticipating the next time she can see him again. And as she leaves, she catches one last emotion from the boy.

Mutual anticipation.

The Monster Inside (Tyler Galpin x Addams!reader)

The Monster Inside (Tyler Galpin x Addams!reader)

Sequel to Monster Like Me

Word Count: 5170 Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Warnings: mentions of prison treatment, self-hate, a gun, hanging, active murder scene, and (obviously) SPOILERS for Tim Burton's Wednesday tv show on Netflix. Note: NOT A TYPICAL HAPPY ENDING

Since their first encounter, (y/n) has found herself visiting Tyler more often than she would like to admit. The past twelve months have seen the two draw closer as they try to heal old wounds. But just when there seems to be a light at the very dark tunnel they both crawl through, a threat on Tyler's life forces (y/n) to choose whether to let justice reign... or embrace the monster inside.

Welp... guess I have to eat my own words because we're here now. That being said, thanks for the support on the first piece, people. I do appreciate all the love and nice comments and so this is for you since I can't get this story out of my head!

The snow crunches underfoot as they walk their daily route around the prison exterior.

It became regular every time she came to visit for them to go on walks. They had picked up the routine six months ago when the prison stopped putting him in straight jackets and the resident therapist suggested gentle exercise would do him some good.

When (y/n) had first heard the news, she hadn't hesitated to drag him outside to feel the summer sun on his skin. She would never forget the look that had blossomed on Tyler's face when he had stepped outside for the first time in who knew how long. It wasn't exact joy, more of an awestruck disbelief. Like a dream he never thought would come true.

Perhaps it was that very look that had been engrained in her brain from that day on that drew her back more often. Six months after her first visit she only returned twice: the first time was two months after, being her scheduled check-in with the boy for clinical reasons, the second a special request from Sheriff Galpin himself. But after six months, after that summer day, she found herself visiting more and more until she came by the prison once a week.

Every Thursday she booked off to visit. Although, (y/n) couldn't exactly deny it was just for professional reasons anymore.

'I think the weather has finally had enough of seeing our faces,' he says, his breathy laugh floating like a ghost past his flushed lips. His cheeks bleed a demure scarlet.

'On the contrary,' she counters, her eyes wandering across the white landscape surrounding them, 'I think it's rewarding us.'

'How so?'

'Don't you see it?' She gestures with her arms to the snow that blankets the ground, that nestles in the tree tops, that glistens in individual flecks off the remaining leaves. 'It's beautiful.'

Tyler huffs, only sparing the view a moment of his warm gaze before it returns to her, charming smile stretching his lips. 'Guess I hadn't noticed with you being beside me.'

Her cheeks flush. He's still got it.

The flirting wasn't a new concept to either of them. Between their snarky banter and clinical catch ups, they always managed to sneak in a comment or two that had the other blushing. It was like some sort of competition: who could rile the other up so much that they get turned on first?

But it was always something that appealed to their dark humour. Recently, though, the comments had become... sweet, nice even.

The worst part, however - the part that had her truly sick to the stomach - was how genuine he sounded. How she sounded in return.

Her gaze locks with his. Hell help her, no wonder even Wednesday fell for him for just a moment. His eyes, his hair, his voice...

He was intoxicating.

'Achoo!'

The sudden sneeze shatters the bubble the two had formed, forcing them to stop in their tracks and drawing their attention to the accompanying guard that walks twenty-odd metres behind them. It is the same guard that has accompanied them since they insisted on walking outside the prison yard. He looks elsewhere, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his coat casually. Despite his relaxed demeanour, (y/n) knows a gun hides within the giant pocket of his coat, ready to draw if Tyler tries anything.

There once was a time I was willing to pull a gun on him. In some sense, she still is. A gun (approved by the prison) lays in her own coat pocket right now. But things have changed. She is not so certain that she would be able to do it with as little hesitation as she once had, with as little guilt and regret.

Tyler pulls at the collar of his orange jumpsuit that is tucked under a tattered trench coat lent by the prison. More specifically, he pulls at the black shock collar strapped to his neck - the new substitute to the constant gene-repressant drugs since he has been on 'good behaviour' according to the prison warden and therapist.

'Might as well be summer with this thing on,' he says, his tone betraying a bitterness (y/n) had come to associate with the boy. 'Darn thing gives a whole new meaning to being hot under the collar.'

'Oh, don't lie,' she scolds. 'You're practically a Smurf you're that blue.'

'It's called the Prison Look, where orange and blue are the new black.'

Despite the dark meaning, an amused smirk twitches at her lips at the joke. But his shivering form prompts her to unravel the white scarf that warms her neck without a second thought.

'Here,' she says gently, raising herself onto her tippy toes to reach behind Tyler once, twice, then tug and tuck the reminder of the scarf into the top of his jumpsuit. For good measure, she tugs the tattered jacket as much as possible over the jumpsuit, as if to trap as much warmth as she could inside.

'There,' she breathes out, looking up at him once more. 'Now you won't freeze to death before they declare you fit to return to society.'

His eyes glow under the winter sun much like a fireplace. She senes his awe, his wonder as he scans her with those eyes. But she also senses uncertainty, doubt.

'I wouldn't waste your breath,' he mutters. 'I've spent six years here now, and not once have they indicated at potentially releasing me.'

'Because up until now you haven't given them a reason to consider it.'

'Well maybe that's because I never had a reason to consider it.'

The way he looks at her now, she swears he can hear her erratic heartbeat with his heightened hearing thanks to his Hyde heritage. His sadness and pain threatens to consume her, and she is oh so tempted to take it all away like he had begged for almost every time she visited.

Another emotion stops her, though. Between the sadness and pain, she senses a glimmer of light. And as she looks in his eyes now, she sees it.

Hope.

(Y/n) forces herself to breathe, to steady herself before she speaks again, not knowing where this conversation is heading. 'So you have a reason now?'

He doesn't reply straight away. Instead, his gaze flickers down to her lips then back up. It was only a second, but the movement has her breath hitching as he some steps closer to her.

Chest to chest. Heart to heart.

'Maybe,' he whispers, his words taking shape in the form of warm mist that grazes her lips. Like the first time she got this close to him, back in the interrogation room with only a gun between them, she finds herself wanting to lean in more to him, desperate to feel warmth, but more importantly his warmth.

'You really think I can ever go back?' he asks, and the desperate plea in his voice is so genuine and hopeful it threatens to break her heart.

Based on his past actions alone, absolutely not. Nothing would ever be the same as it was back then. But many nights (y/n) had dreamed of Tyler, of him being released and starting over somewhere else.

Some nights she dreamed he would take her with him.

Wednesday scolded her any time she brought up Tyler in casual conversation, saying, 'You'll surely regret ever involving yourself with him.'

She knows he is trouble, that he still doesn't regret what he did no matter how sick it was. But that same sick, twisted part inside her couldn't find it in herself to care.

'Maybe,' she finds herself repeating, because she doesn't want to see his hope die in his all-consuming eyes. 'You're a good person, Tyler. It would be a shame to see you waste away because of someone else's choices.'

'A waste for who exactly ? Society? Or you?'

Before she can answer, an alarm pings inside her coat pocket. She waits a breath, thinking it is just her imagination. But when it goes off again, she forces herself to step away from Tyler - to let go of Tyler - and retrieve her phone from her pocket.

It is the timer she sets for an hour every time she comes. Time truly does fly when you're... occupied, I guess.

'Time's up?' Tyler asks, though he knows what the alarm means by now.

She nods, turning around to call to the guard. 'Ready when you are.'

He nods in reply, silently walking up to them to lead them back to the prison. Before he reaches them though, Tyler flashes (y/n) a sad smile.

'Guess I'll see you next week?' he asks, his voice a mixture of light amusement and hope.

The moment between them has passed, and who knows if she'll ever get it back. But (y/n) finds herself smiling in reply. 'Aw, you going to miss me or something?'

'You know I will. You're the only monster like me I know.'

~~~

(Y/n) cannot drive to the prison fast enough.

A week has passed since their walk in the snow and she can no longer deny her excitement she feels with every impending visit. But this morning she received a call from a certain Sheriff Galpin that melted her mind into irrationality.

She doesn't bother correcting her park as she pulls up to the entrance of the door, nor does she bother locking the car, for she is already racing into the foyer.

'Where is he?' she declares as she enters.

A guard immediately stops her as she attempts to pass through the declaration zone. 'Ma'am, you need to go through standard procedures before you are allowed through.'

'You have no right to do this to him. No right!'

'What is going on?' It is the warden. He's a tough and burly-looking fellow, his stature emphasised more so by the petite figure of the prison therapist that follows behind him, her heels clacking against the tiled floor.

(Y/n) turns to him, fury coursing through her like wildfire. 'That's a question I should be asking you. What is going on with Tyler?'

He releases an exhausted sigh, but she senses no regret or guilt from him as he says, 'So you heard. Sheriff Galpin, no doubt.'

She nods, and it takes all her self control to not punch his pudgy face in. 'He's so close, sir. I respectfully ask that you rethink this course of action.'

'I'm sorry Miss Addams, but it's not my call. The higher ups still consider him a danger that needs to be stopped.'

'He hasn't turned, let alone hurt anyone, in six years! He hasn't done anything to warrant your distrust.'

'And in those six years he also hasn't done anything to warrant our trust, either.' It is the therapist this time, her clipped words clinical and heartless. 'I'm sorry, but his lack in progress is unsettling, and I'm afraid he cannot be saved.'

(Y/n) cannot believe what she is hearing. Each word they speak breaks her heart a little bit more than she liked to admit. 'So you would subject a 22-year-old boy to be executed like some medieval criminal?'

When Sheriff Galpin called her saying Tyler was to be hanged today, she never could've expected the panic and terror that floods her entire being now, that turned her veins icy and halted her heart for only a moment.

She knew from the start that this would always be Tyler's end. Even as they drew closer and she hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't happen. But she should've known better, even as her judgement had been clouded by emotions.

She should've known that monsters don't get happy endings.

(Y/n) turns her blazing gaze upon the therapist. 'And you're one to talk. Isn't it your job to help people like him? To fight for every life?'

The therapist smiles sadly at her, her calm demeanour angering (y/n) more. 'You don't need to feel guilty for him, (y/n). We both did our best. Some people just don't want to be saved.'

'Miss Addams,' the warden stepped back in, 'it is not our decision to make. I am simply following orders.'

Furious tears threaten to sizzle down her cheeks as she looks between the two. Logically, morally, what they are talking about doing is right. The clinical, factual side of her is partial to those demise.

And who doesn't love a good hanging?

The hollowness behind the clinical facade, however, is so strong that she feels as if she is being torn in two. But she is surrounded, she is the minority in this majorly wrong operation.

She sucks in a deep breath, blinking rapidly to force the tears away. 'Of course. But... can you show me to him? Perhaps the thought of death row will make him see some sense. I'm sure his dad would appreciate that closure.'

The warden contemplates her for a moment. She doesn't look away from his scrutinising gaze. She doesn't even blink. My sister and I are more alike than I thought.

A moment later, the warden sighs in defeat. 'Of course, Miss Addams. If you'd care to follow me...'

The walk to the yard is blurry, (y/n)'s mind numb with defeat. When they finally reach the open area, the sight of the huge hanging platform doesn't bring her the joy she thought her first official hanging would bring.

The ones she and Wednesday subjected their dolls to as children don't count.

Instead, she resists calling his name when she sees Tyler being lead towards the stairs that will lead him to the platform. Which will lead him to his imminent death.

'Hey!' The warden holds a hand that tells the guards to stop. When they do, he turns back to (y/n). 'You have two minutes.'

She nods her thanks before jogging over to Tyler, the guards escorting him taking a few steps away to give them some privacy.

'Hey,' she says.

'Hey,' he replies, lips twitching with the itch of a smile though his eyes don't reflect such casualness. They are almost as dead as the day she first visited him a year ago. No fireplace warmth to take away the sting of Winter's cool breath blowing through the yard, through her clothes.

She doesn't know where to begin. For a year, she has stood by this boy. For a year, he has shown that he is still the kind and loving boy she first met all those years ago. For a year, she has spent her time and attention and - dare she say it - heart to heal this boy, only to realise somewhere along the way he was helping her heal too.

And now he will be slaughtered like some farm animal.

For a girl who prides herself on her eloquent and succinct way of speaking - how her tongue was more like a rapier, and wielded words with deathly precision - she now finds herself in the most discombobulating situation where she cannot speak her mind.

'I just heard this morning,' she says, the words coming out strained like she just ran a marathon. 'I came as quickly as I could. I... I...'

'It's okay,' he offers, noting her struggle for the right words. 'Honestly, I didn't expect you would come.'

Her brows scrunch with confusion. 'Why wouldn't I come? It's the day I always come.'

He shrugs, causing the chains on his wrists to rattle ever so slightly. 'Don't know. I guess... If my own dad wasn't going to come to my hanging, then why would you?'

It is the genuine tone of his inquiry that makes the statement all the more heart breaking. He is almost nonchalant about it all, his face a rigid portrait of nothing. Void of emotion, his exterior is the perfect deflection of the deeply hurtful emotions that lurk in the shadowed parts of his heart.

(Y/n) tries to remain relaxed in the face, cool and collected in her stature. But when she speaks, her words are tighter than she intends. 'But I am here,' she finds herself saying, stepping closer to him and placing her hands on his. As if her presence alone isn't enough to convince him of the reality that she truly is there, standing by him.

His hands are ice under hers. Perhaps that is why he takes in a sharp breath before huffing out a quiet chuckle. It isn't joyous, nor sad. It is a melancholic sound that echoes in her heart in a way she doesn't appreciate.

'You are certainly one of a kind, (y/n) Addams,' he says, and it relieves her to see some life return to his chestnut eyes. 'And seeing as I'm now on death row, I see it only fitting that I tell you my one regret in this miserable, horrible, bleak life.

She cannot help but roll her eyes. 'Oh don't be so dramatic. Don't tell me now, of all times, you have grown a conscience.'

'Come on, I'm trying to be serious for once, Addams. Can't you let me have this one?'

She wants to playfully argue more, wanting to draw out these two minutes as much as possible, but can't find the words to do just that. So instead, she breathes out a shaky laugh and concedes her loss with a nod.

'Fine. What is it?'

The chains rattle again as he reaches into one of the pockets in his jumpsuit, his hands rifling around for a second before pulling back out. As one hand clenches tightly around something when he is finished, he uses the other one to pull her own hands out in front of her. A conglomeration of emotions shoot through her every fibre as his fingers brush her palms, gently open and letting the small object float softly into her awaiting hands.

It's a small square piece of paper, with white on one side and on the other side-

No. Not a piece of paper.

(Y/n) recognises the object now. It's a photograph. Of the two of them. Well, sort of.

The image itself is blurry, like the photo had been taken while in motion. Usually an image like this would make her cringe, having spent countless hours researching and practicing and taking notes on taking the perfect shot. This photo disregards all the rules and formats of proper photography.

Despite the poor quality of it, the smiles both her and Tyler wear are clear as day. She remembers the day it was taken. It was about six months ago back at the beginning of summer when she had brought in her camera because why not, and Tyler had managed to steal it from her bag without her looking.

The picture captures the moment she had realised and had tried to tackle the camera from his grasp but he would not relent. Somewhere in the chaos of it all the picture had been taken. After taking her camera home and looking through her photos, seeing that one in particular brought an unfamiliar yet familiar feeling into her heart. She didn't know what it was, but she knew she wanted Tyler to have the photo. So the next visit came, and she gave Tyler the photo.

She hates how her throat constricts at the sight of the photo once more, how she feels herself slightly shaking at the thought that he kept it all these months, right there with him.

'That I couldn't give you more moments like this,' he mutters so deathly quiet (y/n) thinks for a moment she imagined it. 'After all, there are not many monsters like us in this world. Perhaps if I hadn't been so pre-occupied with Wednesday, with all that drama back then... perhaps things would've been different for us.'

It confuses her when a water droplet plonks onto the picture in her hands. Until she raises a hand to her face and feels a wet trail from her eye run down her cheek and chin and realises that it is a tear.

She is crying.

The last time she cried was six years ago when Wednesday battled Crackstone at Nevermore and somehow came out of it alive.

(Y/n) finally looks up at Tyler to find a similar mixture of shock and confusion on his own face, probably also not expecting her sudden reaction.

She's aware they have no time left, so she swallows the threat of more tears and nods in agreement. 'Yes. Yes, I believe they would've.'

Footsteps draw closer to them, and suddenly Tyler is being taken up the stairs of the platform to be fitted with the noose. (Y/n) looks up but isn't really watching, her mind racing with thoughts, her heart thumping too loudly and with too many emotions. What she wouldn't give to feel someone else's emotions right now.

It is true what they say: the quiet ones usually are the ones that feel the most.

She watches as the noose is fitted around Tyler's neck, how the executioner hides behind a black cloth so he remains an unnameable murderer who kills in the name of justice.

Justice. She used to believe in justice. It is why she agreed to help Tyler in the first place. It is why she didn't argue about Tyler's treatment at the prison for so long. But where had it gotten him? No trial, and an unfair execution of life.

'I truly am sorry, Miss Addams.' (Y/n) hadn't noticed the warden come up beside her, the therapist in tow. 'But people like him... well, people like him just can't be saved.' They look up at the platform too, but now she looks at them, irritation morphing her features.

'He didn't even get a fair trial,' she mutters, because that is all she can manage without screaming. 'Sounds like you didn't want to save him rather than the other way around.'

The warden huffs but doesn't spare her another look. 'Look, if you think a psychotic monster with no regrets about killing can be saved, then you're just as crazy as he is.'

His words aren't meant to mean much; a simple, blanket statement at best. But there rings a bell of truth in them that flips a switch inside (y/n). Like when one turns off the lights of their house to go to sleep, all thought and feeling disappeared, leaving a void of darkness of hollowness.

With the light gone, there's nothing stopping the monster inside from coming out to play.

She turns her head with a cool grace to look upon the platform. The executioner is ready to pull the lever, Tyler is set to fall. On the warden's call, it will all go to hell.

(Y/n)'s hand slips into her coat pocket, fingers folding around the desired item like it was made for her hands alone. 'You know what, warden?' she says, voice as steady as her grip.

'What?'

'I think you might be right.'

A gunshot rings through the yard before he can say the word, and another follows close behind. The warden and executioner both hit the ground simultaneously, identical shots in their heads.

The therapist screams but is cut off as (y/n) fires another bullet and finds its target too. The surrounding guards of the yard run towards her, their stunned hands fumbling with the guns they never thought they would have to use that are stuck in their holsters. But she clocked them all the moment she stepped into the space, and she is pulling the trigger faster than they can call for help.

Fifteen seconds. That is all it takes before the yard is quiet once more.

The void suddenly closes up, and the lights inside her turn back on. A tightness constricts her chest like a python constricts its prey. Ever so slowly, her heart aches more and more at the horror around her, the horror she brought upon them all.

I turned it off. The realisation is both terrifying and exhilarating, fuelling her with a kick of adrenaline that spurs her towards the platform stairs and up them. She finds Tyler's face in front of hers before she can fully comprehend what she is doing.

'(Y/n),' Tyler says, his eyes wild and cloudy - a reflection of the confusion and shock she senses from him. 'What are you-'

'We don't have much time,' she says, bending down to the executioner to fish through his pockets. She eventually finds a set of keys and returns to Tyler to work on his wrist and ankle shackles. By a miracle, the key fit the key hole of the shock collar around his neck, too. It makes a heavy thudding noise as it hits the wooden platform. Once he is free, she throws the noose off his neck and pulls him off the trap door. 'Other guards will have heard the gunshots by now. We've got to move.'

'Wait.' Tyler's grip on her forearm is both strong but gentle, firm but comforting. His eyes search hers, however, much like a bloodhound, his gaze insistent and headstrong. 'Care to explain what happened just now?'

'Tyler, we don't have time for this.'

'Fine, let me rephrase: Tell me what in the hell just happened, Addams.'

She looks frantically around. No guards yet, but she knows they will be there soon. But when she looks back at Tyler, she cannot find it in her to deny his eyes.

'I turned it off,' she says so quietly it is almost a whisper. 'I turned my humanity off... and on again.'

Tyler looks her up and down, his face relaxing with shock and surprise and something else she can't quite put her finger on. 'I thought you said you couldn't do that.'

'I couldn't... until now.'

'How, then? Why?'

'Seriously, Tyler? Can't we talk when I get you out of the prison?'

'Wait, slow down. You're breaking me out?'

She rolls her eyes. Her patience is wearing thin. And so is their time. 'Damn, I would've thought me killing a bunch of people then breaking you out of chains would've been a big enough sign, but I guess not.'

'But why, Addams? Why didn't you let me d-'

'Because I love you, damnit!'

The silence that stretches between them is weighted with the echo of her words, bouncing off the walls and tiles of the yard and coming straight back to them. Only their heavy breaths from their heaving chests breaks up its monotony.

Tyler swallows thickly, his voice tight with an invisible restraint. 'You what?'

She clenches her jaw with a force so strong she might've broken her teeth had she not opened her mouth to reply. 'I know I shouldn't... but I couldn't let you die, Tyler. Not when I know you're good deep, deep inside. Not when you've worked so hard for a second chance. Not when I still needed to say that I love you.'

Her gaze falls from Tyler's prying eyes over the edge of the platform. Pools of blood bloom around each corpse's head, and from the angle and height she stands from, the whole thing looks like a painting.

It is a sick and twisted outlook, but one that she cannot help but relish in knowing this is all wrong wrong wrong. She knows her humanity is back on because she can feel. Tyler's shock, the confusion and panic of close by prisoners. She even senses the emptiness where emotions should've been in the corpses, their hearts still and their souls long gone.

But among all the emotions she feels, cannot find it in herself to feel sorry for any of it.

'I never thought I'd fall for anyone,' she continues, turning back to Tyler. 'Let alone you of all people.'

Something shifts in Tyler's demeanour as they lock eyes. His gaze darkens as he steps closer, and she senses another emotion festering inside him. This time, however, she knows what it is. It is the same emotion she's been feeling for a while now unknowingly. But she recognises it all the same.

Want. All-consuming and disorienting and intoxicating want.

'And who am I? To you?' His breath fans her face he is so close, his voice sultry and promising danger. But despite the lights, the monster is inside the house now. And it lives for danger.

'A monster like me,' she breathes out before Tyler grabs the back of her head and slants their lips over one another.

A primal hunger courses through her every nerve as she grabs at him, her hands not seeming to pull him close enough despite how their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. The taste of mint and fresh air taints her lips as she tries to devour him, her hunger for him insatiable. She senses the feeling is mutual as he kisses her with just as much fervour and want.

His hands in her hair and down her back, his lips on hers, the groans and growls that escape him when she bites his lips. It is simply delectable.

But underneath the hunger and desire, there is a genuine passion that burns so intensely it pulls a squeak from (y/n). What they feel is true and raw and overwhelming right despite the wrong circumstances. A sense of relief and joy overwhelms her at the thought.

The door to her home has finally been opened to guests and she is just so happy to have a friend.

A monster like her no less.

When they pull apart, all she wants is to pull him back in for more. It doesn't help that his eyes burn with life again despite the lustful darkness that surrounds them. 'You are... full of surprises, (y/n).'

She can't help the small smile that twitches at her lips at the tone of surprise. 'As usual, you underestimate me, Tyler.'

'Something I will never do again.' He pulls her back in for another mind-numbing kiss, but this one is backed by relief and a gratitude that threatens to break (y/n)'s heart. When he pulls away, he keeps their foreheads touching, his panting breath hot against her cold skin. 'I never thought I'd find someone like me, someone with a monster inside them.'

'I guess fate works in mysterious ways.' Distant, muffled shouting echoes down the hallways that lead into the yard. (Y/n) pulls away from Tyler, her mind racing with plans on how to escape this place. Well, there is no going back now. 'Come on, lets get out of here.'

Soon enough the news will get out: Prison staff killed in monster breakout. She knows Wednesday will never forgive her. Her family will never forgive her. But she has never felt quite right playing the role of the good guy.

Perhaps she was always meant to play the villain. And with Tyler by her side, she finally feels at home.

The monster inside has been unleashed, and she has no plans on locking it up ever again.

Imagine instead of Ms.Weems being murdered by Ms. Thornhill it was you instead and Tyler being there the whole time seeing his girlfriend die…

And yes you have my permission to use any of my imagines as a story or a oneshot/imagine!

He’s being pulled in a new direction..haha..

(I decided to draw both of the different colors outfits)

Original Dress/skirt for kicks and giggles..

I have two more episodes to watch, but I'm in school 😭

(Suddenly my classmates started fighting while I was writing this... 🧍)

still not over the fact that gomez addams' yearbook quote was

I love her not for the way she danced with my angels but for the way she would silence my demons - me when describing the love of my life

Im being genuinely serious when i say that Wenclair angst edits are my only lifeline right now

Can we talk about how beautiful she is?

If I dont have at least one wenclair scene in season 2, I might explode. I don't care if it's them full on making out (which will definitely never happen) or just the slight softening of their voice or eyes when they see and talk to each other

Enid, giggling: what word has the most letters in it?

Wednesday: I believe the longest word is Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

Enid:….mailbox. The answer is mailbox

Question I don’t truly care about canonical stuff but was it canon that she has autism cause that make a lot of sense

Wednesday (TV Series 2022–)

Friend or Woe - S01E03

𝘞𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵☻︎✔︎

Main M.List

fluff- ❀ smut- ❤︎ suggsstive- ꨄ︎

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒆

Hcs/blurbs

They're Jealous❀

𝒂𝒋𝒂𝒙 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒔

Hcs/blurbs

They're Jealous❀

𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒔 (𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒕)

Hcs/blurbs

They're Jealous❀

𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒆 (𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒕)

Hcs/blurbs

They're Jealous❀

𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒊𝒏

Hcs/blurbs

They're Jealous❀

They're jealous

Characters: Xavier Thorpe, Ajax, Male! Wednesday Addams, Male! Enid Sinclair, Tyler Galpin

Warnings: swearing, slight harassment

Wednesday M.List

Main M.List

Xavier Thorpe

you had recently gotten a job at the café in town that Tyler happened to work at and honestly you didn't know him all that well but you did know that Xavier had some kind if grudge against him which you never questioned because it seemed personal and plus it wasn't like you were friends with the boy so it never bothered you to much

today however Xavier happened to pay you a visit which you usually wouldn't mind but because Tyler didn't go to Nevermore he had no clue you and Xavier were dating which was shocking seeing as gossip spreads fast in the small town and you both have been dating for a year and a bit now, so Xavier just so happened to walk in when Tyler was attempting to ask you out and flirt with you

"c'mon just one date I promise I'll make it nice you won't regret it" he practically begged you because he can't take no for an answer

"I'm already dating someone and I would pick him over anyone any day" he then scoffed looking down mumbling something under his breath which you didn't appreciate

"what was that Tyler" you said turning around to look at him crossing your arms over your chest

"I thought you liked me, I bet I can change your mind please one chance y/n" he said slowly walking towards you and you were about to snap at him before someone else did for you

"tough luck Galpin she's with me and she'd never be with a normie like you" you looked behind Tyler to so Xavier behind him glaring daggers at him, you smiled widely before throwing yourself at him in a tight hug and you looked back at Tyler only to see him with a sour face before he walked away

you looked back at Xavier and kissed his cheek before hugging him again

Ajax (I can't spell his last name :,) )

you could feel his stare behind you but you couldn't help but be friendly to people even if said person doesn't know how to take a hint

"sooo has anyone asked you to the Rave'n yet" he said leaning his head closer to yours which only made you lean your head away from his awkwardly

"yes actually! I have been asked already" you said glad he asked thinking he'd finally leave you alone and boy were you wrong

"hm...really? I'm not surprised seeing how beautiful you are but i bet i can treat you to real good night baby" he said stalking towards you which just made you feel even more uncomfortable and you knew what he ment behind his words and you could only feel Ajax's stare harden and once his hands had reached your hips you saw his eyes look behind just before he turned to stone which shocked you at first before you grinned wide skipping over to Ajax and hugging him smiling even more when you felt his hands tighten around your waist

Male! Wednesday Addams

you had been dragged to the woods and to a scary small building by Wednesday in the dark and there was no chance you were going inside so you offered to guard outside which you now regretted seeing as its been 10 minutes and your called and the woods were only getting scarier by the second so when you felt hands wrap around your waist you let out the most loudest scream known to man your heart racing so fast

"woah woah there sweatheart, you don't have to be scared of me promise"

and you weren't any less panicked "I have a boyfriend please leave me alone " you say in a panicked tone trying to remove his arms from around your waist

"well I don't see him"

"Just because you don't see him doesn't mean he doesn't exist so please let go of my partner before I bend your legs so far back you loose all feeing in them" Wednesday said in his usual monotone voice appearing next to you with a harsh glare on his face and after that threat the man almost instantly let go and ran away

"are you alright my love?" he says turning towards you his voice not any less monotone but you could care less as you nodded your head throwing your arms around him

Male! Enid Sinclair

while you walking towards the cafeteria with Enid your very bubbly and loving boyfriend a random boy walked up to you and started spitting our terrible pick up lines honestly it was quite amusing seeing the boy say horrible pick up lines while your boyfriend who was still smiling but very clearly wasn't happy was right next to you

"are you wi-fi? cause I totally feel a connection" the boy said with a freakishly large smirk on his face while you physically cringed at that one

"um excuse me! they have a boyfriend" you hear Enid say next to you clearly jealous and all the boy did was snort

"really? this guy? you can do way better then this guy" and you were about to say something before you heard a deep growl besides ypu

"back off!" Enid says an lot more aggressive then the last time clearing loosing his patience with the guy and the guy clearly got seeing seeing Enid get his claws out

"alright alright jeez....I'm leaving" he says rolling his eyes and walking past the both of you

Enid looks over at you only to see you already grinning up at him

"what?" he says cluelessly

"nothing your just so cute when your jealous" and that made Enid turn bright red

"I wasn't jealous!"

Tyler Galpin

you were currently sat at a booth in the café Tyler worked out waiting for him to get off for a date you both had tonight and that's when a blond around 6'0 tanned muscular male sat across from you you stared at him with a blank face

"umm...hi?" you say confused having never met this man in your life

"Hey, your pretty what's your name?" you looked around to make sure he was talking to you and he most definitely was seeing as the café was practically empty

"thank...you? my name is y/n" you say still slightly confused

"such a pretty name for such a pretty face...do you have a boyfriend"

"yep I do, he's right there actually" you say pointing at Tyler who was drying a cup while staring at the both at you and the guy clearly was impressed

"really? him? you can do so much better then him, you deserve someone like me" he says leaning closer to you over the table

"no thanks, I don't think I could ever do better than him and he's 100% better then you" you say with a smirk plastered on your face and all he could was leave in a huff as you watched him leave jumping slightly when you heard Tyler's voice besides you

"who was that?" he says still drying the cup he was drying 5 minutes ago

"jeez warning next time but nobody special just some guy thinking he can get with me, why? you jealous?" you say looking up at him grinning and all he could do was look away with a red face

"No..." he replies and you let out a snort 'he so was'

That took forever

Xavier(singing):If you gave me a chance I would take it!

Wednesday: Stop.

Xavier(continuing): It's a shot in the dark but I make it

Wednesday(thinking):there's no one in the room.

Wednesday(quietly): when I am with you there's no place i rather be. Now shut up and sit on my laps because I'm trying to write🙄

Wednesday: Did you cut yourself again?

(Xavier in a thick sweater and long pants)

Xavier laughing: No! why?😅

Wednesday: you are literally crying.

Wednesday(pulling him on her laps):WHERE.

*Xavier curling up in a ball and sob*

Xavier: on arms and ankles 😭

Imagine Wednesday allows xavier to sit on her lap when he's down to break the social construct that says girl sits on boy's lap>>>>>>>>