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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Reverie

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x cryomancer!reader

Summary: In the midst of investigating, a figure from your past returns, sending you into a panic. Wednesday is there to help pick up the pieces (and maybe get some revenge too).

Warnings: panic attack, implied abuse and violence, blood, reader is a Simp, it gets a bit morbid near the end lol, abrupt ending

Word count: 5.5k (sigh)

Notes: this fic made me realize just how much i struggle with character descriptions... but anyways this is a long request for literally the nicest anon ever, whoever you are i hope you enjoy this!

Masterlist | Part 2

Silence was something that you cherished.

Throughout the years, the numerous group homes, revolving door of foster parents, and whirlwind of schools you attended instilled a yearning for calm and quiet. A need for peace to soothe your daily anxieties.

Loud noises were bothersome, they reminded you of things better left forgotten which is why you put forth your best effort to avoid them wherever you ended up.

Nevermore Academy was no different.

Though it was a school for outcasts, it was still a school. A place that housed hundreds of rowdy, unruly teenagers for the better part of the year. And teenage outcasts were still teenagers.

You learned quickly to avoid the quad at all times of day except after curfew, the only time when it was completely empty save for some roaming teachers.

Lunches were spent in empty classrooms instead of the cafeteria and free time was spent exploring the campus for a place to claim as your own, like you have in every place you inhabited over the years.

But luck, it seemed, was not on your side because not a single place you found fit your needs.

Sure, there were quieter places like the library or the dorms (depending on the hour), but it was rare that found a place that offered actual meaningful silence.

Surprisingly, the solution to your problem came the moment you looked beyond the cramped campus of the school, and that solution was the forest.

The vast woodland that separated Nevermore and Jericho was thick, comprised of thousands of trees, and filled with life of all kinds—tall, vibrant green trees, a myriad of bird species, scampering squirrels, and even foxes during parts of the year.

Unfortunately, not all of the life that resided there was welcome. You heard whispers of something in the forest killing unsuspecting hikers and truckers. The mayor said it was bears, but you knew better.

Knowledge of the danger that lurked amongst the trees only made the woods that much more enticing to you. You trusted your ability to keep yourself safe with your powers. A wall of ice was a simple thing for you to create, but not for someone (or something) else to break.

The forest became your safe haven. Because of the murders, both students and Jericho residents alike tended to keep their distance, which made your solitude nearly guaranteed.

The chirping of birds in the distance and whistling of the trees in the wind made for a beautiful ambiance to read in. And it remained unequivocally yours for the first part of the semester.

Then a new student arrived mid-semester.

You never went out of your way to look for her, knowing you would hate that kind of attention yourself, but you still managed to see glimpses. Truthfully, she was hard to miss.

A girl dressed head to toe in black, twin braids framed a permanently impassive face, dead eyes set on the path in front of her. With her came a sense of foreboding, like storm clouds on the horizon. You would’ve sworn she was also a cryomancer with the way she seemed to chill the atmosphere around her.

Students parted like the Red Sea when she walked through the halls, determined to avoid her wrath. Given the few rumors you heard in passing across the school, you supposed you couldn’t blame them.

But those glimpses were few and far between, mere moments when your eyes caught a flash of monochrome, then she was gone.

She shared a handful of classes with you, but she was always seated across the room from you, just out of your sightline. By the time class ended and you got your things together to leave, she was on her way to her next class.

The first time you truly saw her was in passing.

You were at your spot in the woods, resting your back against the broad trunk of a tree as you read when the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Curious, you glanced up toward the sound and sure enough, there she was a few meters away heading in your direction.

She paused when your eyes met but remained silent. The only indication of surprise was the way her eyes narrowed, brows lowering ever so slightly.

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone, you know,” she said. Her voice was cold as a winter breeze. You liked it, it suited her.

“I could say the same to you,” you shrugged, turning your attention back to your book. You kept your focus on your story, eyes dutifully scanning the sentences, but in your peripherals, you could see her still standing there.

Another moment passed before she resumed walking, heading off in the direction she had been going before and you couldn’t help the way your eyes lifted to the retreating figure, following her until she was completely out of sight.

A curious encounter, but not one you ended up giving much thought to.

Then she showed up again.

Only the very next day did she appear once more, the circumstances exactly the same as before. You read, she walked. Except this time she didn’t pause, just kept marching past you.

Same with the next day. And the next. And the next. You were almost convinced that you two had a pseudo routine when, with no warning, it changed.

One rather humid afternoon, you heard her footsteps and didn’t bother looking up, knowing she would just continue on her way. But today she didn’t. Today, her steps faltered as she went by you, and above your book, you saw her pivot.

Your eyes were drawn up by the unfamiliar movement. Brows furrowed, you watched as she settled against a tree opposite of you and rummaged around in her bag, pulling a textbook and paper out.

From where you were, you couldn’t see what the paper was, but the book you immediately recognized. It was a textbook for Botany—one of the few classes you shared with her. The paper must’ve been the homework that you finished in class.

You were almost tempted to offer your help, but you knew she had no need for it.

So you turned your attention back to your book, reading a bit slower with the distraction of the girl across from you.

The worksheet, unsurprisingly, took Wednesday all of ten minutes to complete, but she stayed there with you for the better part of the afternoon, pulling out a book after she finished the homework.

Not a word was spoken between either of you, not even an exchange of names. Just you, her, and the blissful, silent serenity of the forest around you.

She left at sundown, packing her things and walking away without sparing a glance your way. You left soon after, a smile pulling at your lips.

When she returned the next day, that same smile appeared. Even when she didn’t stop to sit.

Your pseudo routine had shifted.

Some days she left to venture into the forest, some days she stayed with you. And though you were content to just sit with her when she allowed it, you couldn’t help but wonder where she went off to on the days she chose to keep walking.

Your answer ended up coming from Enid. The girl had asked to sit next to you in Vampire Anatomy class and you didn’t have the heart to say no.

Through the blog posts that Enid insisted you read, you learned that her name was Wednesday Addams, and she was trying to find the “monster” that lurked in Jericho’s forest.

Your existing interest was piqued after that. The urge to tag along with her pulled at you every time you watched her disappear into the forest, but you tried to ignore it.

Though true crime had always been a passing interest, it wasn’t something you knew quite enough about to be of any actual use to Wednesday.

Still, you couldn’t help but try.

When you asked to join Wednesday in her investigation, you expected a cold and firm no. Instead, she neither accepted nor declined your offer. Simply looked at you, normally dull eyes shining chaotic as lightning, then walked off into the forest, leaving you scrambling to catch up.

Thus began your actual new routine. You’d head to the forest after class, read until Wednesday arrived, and wait until she informed you of her afternoon plans.

If she sat against the tree that you’d begun to call hers, then the afternoon hours would be spent together in blissful silence. But if she didn’t, she would walk past you, only pausing briefly to spare you a glance, extending a silent invitation that you always accepted.

Afternoons that weren’t spent in the serenity of the forest were spent acquiring evidence, gathering information, and sussing out any potential suspects.

Weeks of slow, but steady progress were made (mostly by Wednesday) and you enjoyed every second of it.

She still didn’t offer up much information about herself—her likes and interests (aside from general morbidity) were never so much as alluded to during your time investigating, but you liked that.

In your mind, she was like a puzzle that not many had the patience to put together. But you enjoyed the intrigue, savored the challenge.

You kept much of your own history to yourself as well. If asked you would say that you did it in a bid to make yourself seem more mysterious, but really you just didn’t like talking about it.

The past was something you desperately just wanted to forget and Wednesday excelled at making you do just that, even if she didn’t know it.

Before you knew it, you found yourself falling for her in a way you never had before. But who could blame you, really?

A short, but statuesque figure with eyes like black ice and a constellation of freckles scattered across her cheeks that put the stars to shame. How anyone couldn’t be entranced at first glance was beyond you.

Your closeness with Wednesday, even if only for professional purposes on her end, served to further the distance between you and your classmates but you didn’t particularly care. What they feared, you admired and while you could understand their fear, you couldn’t fathom ever being afraid of Wednesday. Even at her most grotesque, she was enchanting.

Stupid as it may be, you’d follow her anywhere. You knew that, once you exhausted your welcome, she would likely discard you, but until then you’d just sit back and enjoy the ride with her.

This sentiment led you to Outreach Day.

To put it simply, Outreach Day was a goddamn mess.

Part of your day was spent in a pilgrim-themed dystopian hellscape trying to find information on Joseph Crackstone, another deep in the forest behind Jericho, searching the dilapidated remains of a meeting house from centuries ago.

Naturally, this culminated in the two of you getting chased by the very monster you were trying to investigate, which certainly wasn’t part of your plans for the day when you woke up, but with Wednesday you never really knew what you were going to get.

Fortunately, your near-death experience wasn’t for naught because you had learned one incredibly important fact.

The monster, whatever it was, was human. It was someone that either lived in Jericho or attended Nevermore Academy with you and Wednesday. Likely, it was someone they had already interacted with, knowingly or not.

That thought haunted you the entire long walk back into Jericho. So much so that Wednesday had to tell you to calm down because you were freezing the rain around you into snow and leaving icy footprints wherever you walked.

By the time you stepped back into the town, you were ready to go to your dorm and call it a night. Thankfully, the day was almost over. The only thing standing between you and your bed was the stupid statue unveiling everyone was forced to attend.

You were walking to the town square when it happened.

Thoughts about the monster’s identity were just starting to abate, boredom taking its place as you entered Jericho proper. Wednesday was beside you, matching your strides perfectly while she talked with Thing about something you couldn’t quite hear.

Even in the middle of the day, the town wasn’t bustling (though when was it ever?). A few residents peppered the streets, going about their day quietly while you and Wednesday passed them.

You idly scanned the town goers, eyes snagging on a woman on the opposite end of the road who looked oddly familiar.

The woman had her head turned, appearing to be on the phone with someone. You watched her carefully, slowing your pace slightly, and when she finally turned her head, it instantly clicked.

Walking down that street was your former foster parent, Mary.

You could remember the day you met her like it was yesterday.

It had been years since you’d been adopted out and swiftly swept back into the system once your last family found out that you were an outcast. You’d been told that someone was finally interested in you again and you were overjoyed to meet them.

Mary was a tall woman with a kind smile and the name of a catholic saint. You weren’t religious, but you figured (hoped) that it had to mean something.

You thought her your savior, your ticket out of the system forever, and she ended up being responsible for the worst years of your life.

When you snapped back to the present, you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Wednesday was a few steps ahead, giving you a strange look. You wanted to explain or, better yet, grab her and drag her out of the town entirely, but it was too late. Mary was already looking your way.

Your eyes met and suddenly, you were twelve again. Angry shouts reverberated in your ears, mimicking the way they echoed off the cramped walls of the house. You saw yourself cowering in the face of her anger, shrinking into yourself as much as you could.

There was a flurry of movement, a sharp crack, and even now you swore you could feel the sting of the impact on your cheek.

She hated you, and you could still see remnants of that hatred now, even from across the street.

Distantly, you could hear Wednesday say something, but the sound was muffled by the roar of your blood in your ears. Despite the cool temperature, you were beginning to sweat, heart rate gradually picking up as you stared at the ghost from your past.

Mary hung up the phone and started toward you. That was all you needed.

The last thing you felt was the brush of cold fingers on your wrist before you ran.

You ran and ran and ran, feet carrying you as fast as physically possible. There was no real destination in mind, just away from her.

When the burning in your chest became unbearable, you stumbled into an alley. Your chest heaved and just as you were going to try and catch your breath, your legs crumpled beneath you, sending you careening into the nearest wall. You slid down to the ground and squeezed your knees to your chest.

Clarity evaded you no matter how much you tried to find it. You had seen people you knew in public before, even your other former foster parents, so you had no idea why seeing her was affecting you so badly.

Your heart pulsed endlessly in your chest, blood pumping through your veins like you were moving at a million miles per hour, yet you were frozen, your body permanently suspended in motion. A living contradiction that you couldn’t make any sense of.

The pain in your chest intensified, drawing your limbs in to try and relieve the ache. It felt as if your body was trying to collapse in on itself, like a dying star.

Tears gathered in your eyes, and you were helpless to stop them from streaming down your cheeks as the ache grew.

For an awful moment, you genuinely thought you were going to die.

A flash of movement and suddenly there was something—no, someone in front of you. They crouched before you, their face coming into view and familiar dark orbs stared at you in a way you’d never seen before.

Wednesday.

Relief momentarily cut through your misery. You figured she would find you at some point, likely after the ceremony, but the fact that she was here now made something other than agony bubble in your chest.

Suddenly, you noticed that her lips were moving. She was saying something. You tried to focus your hearing against the chaos, but nothing could be heard over the erratic beating in your chest. Frustration mounted, making you further curl into yourself.

Wednesday moved a bit closer, stopping just short of you so she was the only thing in your line of sight. This time you were just able to catch the tail end of her statement. “-st look at me.”

You complied.

“Identify five things that you can see. You don’t have to say them out loud,” she instructed you, slowly and firmly.

You took in her words, but your eyes never strayed from her.

The first thing you saw was her eyes. So dark that they appear black in most settings, but under direct sunlight they reveal themselves to be the most beautiful shade of brown you’ve ever seen. Second was her hair, the way her wet fringe clumped together, forming short tendrils on her forehead.

Next, you were drawn to the starry sea of freckles on her cheeks. The temptation to try and count them tugged at you. You disregarded it, wanting to complete the task at hand for Wednesday.

Your eyes moved to trace her jaw, number four on your list. It was clenched, the way it always was when she was either angry or worried about something. You briefly wondered which one she felt now.

Her lips were the fifth and final feature you saw. You didn’t let yourself think about them for long, simply cataloged them.

Once you mentally documented all five, you looked to Wednesday, your breaths coming somewhat more consistently.

“Got it?” she asked, voice sounding a bit clearer now. You nodded. She continued. “Alright, now four things you can feel.”

You stiffly unclasped your hands and set them on the ground at your sides.

Surprisingly, the first thing you felt beneath your fingers was the solid frigidity of ice. In your panic, you must’ve partially frozen the alleyway around you. The warmth of the air around you told you that you hadn’t frozen too much, thankfully. You counted the temperature as your second.

Third, you felt the weight of your soaked clothes. The way they clung to your skin pulled a small grimace from you. That segwayed directly into the fourth thing you felt—your wet hair. Droplets of water were still running down the back of your neck from it, making you shiver. Lastly, you felt the rough, uneven texture of the brick wall at your back.

Moving up slightly, you turned back to Wednesday, who was watching you attentively, and gave her a firmer nod. The tension in your chest was beginning to dissipate.

“Three things you can hear.”

Your ears perked and you tried to focus on the noises around you. Even on its busiest days, Jericho was a relatively quiet little town, so it was easy to hear things you normally wouldn’t be able to in more densely populated places.

The first thing your ears picked up was the chime of a ringtone a block or two away. A pop song, the kind that Wednesday detested. Second was a loud giggle from someone that sounded suspiciously like Enid. The sound of it almost made you smile. And third, the clatter of a cup onto the ground and an angry curse that immediately followed it.

Someone must’ve dropped their coffee. Again, you almost smiled. Your heart began to slow in your chest, the ache there subsiding as well.

Eyes returning to the girl in front of you, you nodded.

“Two things you can smell.”

That was easy. Wednesday’s usual scent of old books and incense was present, mixed with traces of wet grass, a reminder of your earlier excursion. Another smell you could identify was the pungent odor of days-old garbage. Your nose scrunched. Of course, you chose an alleyway with a dumpster.

Your posture loosened, muscles relaxing as you sent Wednesday yet another nod.

“One thing you can taste.”

The metallic taste of blood on your tongue almost made you startle. Pain flared in your cheek, an answer to your question of where it came from. You weren’t sure when you bit it, and presently, you didn’t really care.

Swallowing harshly, you gave the girl before you a shaky thumbs up. The firm set of her jaw relaxed as she continued to observe you. You returned the favor, gently resting your chin on your knees as you watched her.

“Who was she?” she asked, tone softer than usual.

Not expecting the question, you blinked. “Hm?”

“The woman, who was she?”

You swallowed. This was never something you wanted Wednesday to know about, but you supposed she deserved some sort of explanation after helping you.

“Former foster parent. Just one of the many people to hurt me over the years,” you admitted with a wry chuckle.

Wednesday didn’t laugh.

The faint sound of instruments caught your attention. It seemed that you were officially missing the unveiling.

“Shouldn’t you be playing?” you asked, remembering Weems’ comment about Wednesday’s cello earlier that day.

“The Jericho high school band doesn’t need me. You do. Weems will get over it.” She maneuvered herself to sit down next to you, bringing her knees up to mimic your pose. The space between you was virtually nonexistent, but she still wasn’t quite touching you, which you appreciated.

A few minutes passed in silence. The lingering effects of your panic began to fade, leaving behind an all-encompassing tiredness that nearly made you slump over.

Beside you, Wednesday sat perfectly still, occasionally sending glances that you pretended not to notice for her sake.

The chill she emanated was too soothing for you to really care about it anyways. You resisted the urge to lean closer, to steal more of it for yourself. But you just further lowered your body temperature with your powers instead.

You rested your head back against the wall. Honestly, just being within such close proximity of Wednesday was nice. You swore you could stay sitting there all day with her if time allowed…

An explosion in the distance made you jump. Concerned, you turned to Wednesday who looked much too unsurprised for it to be a coincidence. Only now did you notice Thing’s conspicuous absence. Brows furrowing, you leaned forward. “Wednesday, what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she replied easily, lips quirking at the screams of terror that arose from the town square. Promptly, she stood and tilted her head down at you. “Come on, we need to secure our seats at the back of the bus.”

A soft nod was all you could manage in response. Standing was more of a struggle than you anticipated, your exhaustion so heavy it felt as if it settled into your very bones and weighed your limbs down, but after a few attempts, you were on your feet.

The moment you gained a semblance of stability, Wednesday snagged your sleeve and tugged you out of the alley, her grip gentler than you’d expect as she guided you back to the bus. You didn’t miss the joyful spark in her eyes at the chaos unfolding around the town.

When you arrived at the bus, the door was wide open and your companion wasted no time hauling you both inside, immediately making a beeline for the back row. She stopped in front of the seats you occupied on the ride into Jericho, dropping your sleeve as she stepped aside for you to sit.

You gave her a tired smile, grateful that she was giving you the window this time, and collapsed onto the seat. Wednesday slipped in right after you, sitting noticeably closer this time. Close enough that her arm lightly rested against yours.

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you didn’t dare point it out. You just rested your head against the window and closed your eyes.

The slow arrival of other students and staff barely registered, your focus altering between the events of the hour prior, and the comfortingly cold weight of Wednesday’s arm pressing against yours.

The bus ride back to school passed by in a blur and you were being pulled off the bus by Wednesday before you even realized it had stopped.

In a similar fashion, Wednesday dragged you by the sleeve to your dorm, all but shoving you toward your closet once inside.

“Get changed and get some rest. I will return in a few hours after I deal with something,” she said, eyeing you as she edged back toward the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked, concerned that she would try to continue investigating by herself. Wednesday turned to you, and for a moment you were convinced she would tell you that “what she did was none of your concern” or just leave altogether without a word, but at the last second her demeanor shifted.

“It’s nothing to do with the monster. I won’t be putting myself in danger in any way, you have my word,” she assured you, tone firm. There was no room for argument, and if you were being honest, you were compelled to believe her anyway.

You nodded slowly. “Ok.”

She held your gaze for another second then turned and strode out the door. You stayed standing in your spot until her footsteps faded completely.

Fatigue weighed on you once more and that was enough motivation for you to quickly shower and change into dry clothes. You abandoned your discarded uniform in the bathroom to dry, halfheartedly trudging to your bed and flopping down on it.

Scattered thoughts littered your brain, taking you from one turbulent topic to the next. Crackstone, Wednesday’s vision, the monster, Mary—until Wednesday herself came up and instantly everything else was irrelevant.

You thought about the way she treated you today, how she helped you, how she touched you. It made you much happier than it ought to.

As your eyes slipped shut, you wondered about where she could be. You just hoped she was safe.

Finally, your exhaustion overtook you, thoughts of Wednesday sending you into a deep slumber.

Hours later, you were woken by a sharp knock on your door.

The harsh sound nearly sent you tumbling out of bed. You were half-tempted to not answer it, but Wednesday said she’d be back later and the last thing you wanted to do was keep her waiting.

So you dragged yourself out of bed and opened the door, smiling when you were met with Wednesday’s usual deadpan stare. She walked past you into your dorm, not bothering to wait for an invitation she knew you’d give her, and while you shut the door, you took the chance to look at her.

She appeared unharmed. Her uniform, now dry, was perfectly situated as always and not a single hair on her head was displaced. She looked as if she’d just returned from a peaceful walk through the woods, but something told you that was far from the truth.

Wednesday walked over to set her bag down on your desk, carefully slipping something out of it before turning to face you. She beckoned you over and you complied.

“I was told to give this to you.” She extended an envelope in your direction.

A brow raised as you took the envelope, inspecting it closely. You never got mail, so you were immediately suspicious, but it looked harmless enough. A simple, white envelope, entirely blank besides the small writing of your name on the back.

Curious, you ripped it open and to your surprise, it was a letter from Mary. The scrawl was messier than usual, almost panicked, but the handwriting was distinctly hers. You read through it slowly, your initial apprehension turning to disbelief.

The letter detailed all of her transgressions against you and how genuinely, unerringly apologetic she was for hurting you.

Under the body of text, her name was written in a red ink so dark, you’d think that it was blood… And there was a smudge of crimson at the bottom of the page. As if the ink had been crudely spilled onto the paper.

You knew you shouldn’t be finding enjoyment in this. Frankly, you should be terrified but the feeling that bloomed in your chest was the furthest thing from fear.

“Is it to your liking?” she asked, jaw set in determination. The look in her eyes told you that if you said no, she would go back to Mary and make her write another one. If she was still alive that is.

“Yes, it is,” you said, dumbfounded, “but you really didn’t need to do anything, Wednesday.”

“She deserved it,” she retorted, a touch of hostility in her tone. A beat. Then, “You said there were others. If you give me their names, I will hunt them down and seek retribution on your behalf.”

The declaration shouldn’t have made your cheeks warm, nor should the bloodthirsty look in her eyes, but it did. It was equal parts horrifying and charming—the perfect cocktail of emotions to get your heart racing.

Maybe Wednesday was starting to rub off on you more than you thought.

“That…won’t be necessary,” you said slowly. You knew you should just leave it; you really did. But you couldn’t help yourself. “How exactly did you find out where she was staying?”

The ghost of a smirk appeared on her lips, all traces of hostility replaced with blatant self-assuredness. “I have my ways.”

Her blatant cockiness pulled a laugh out of you, the first of the day in fact. You wondered if you were imagining the relief in Wednesday’s eyes at the sound. Turning back to the paper, you sobered a bit.

“Wednesday, seriously, thank you. This is more than most people have ever done for me,” you admitted. The ethics of whether you should be thanking her be damned, this was a touching gesture in your mind. Shameful or not, you were going to properly thank her.

The sudden emotional vulnerability seemed to catch her off guard, eyes widening slightly. But she caught herself quickly. Her eyes darkened a bit and her smirk softened, turning into something suspiciously akin to an actual smile. “Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

Another wave of warmth rushed through you, and you prayed that it wasn’t visible on your cheeks. It struck you that this was the first time you’d ever seen a (possibly) genuine smile on her face.

With that, the room lapsed into silence and like always, you let it sit between you.

She, too, let the quiet linger, holding your gaze with a confidence only she possessed. For just a moment, her eyes flicked downward, the movement so fast it was nearly imperceptible.

Nearly.

It was over just as quickly as it began and by the time you properly registered it, Wednesday was straightening up, dark eyes fixed on yours once more.

“Our investigation will resume tomorrow assuming there are no more unplanned interruptions. Meet me in my dorm after classes tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, still trying to figure out if what you saw was real or another possible figment of your imagination.

She headed for the door, and you panicked. You wanted to say something, anything to get her to stay for just one more moment. But nothing came to mind (nothing you had the courage to say, anyways).

Suddenly, she paused, turned to face you once more.

“Good night.”

You smiled. “Good night, Wednesday.”

A final nod and she was out the door, closing it behind her with a soft click.

Again, you stayed there until the echo of her footsteps was no more. You looked down at the letter in your hand, pursing your lips. Reluctantly, you set it down on your desk. You would unpack all of your feelings regarding it later. Now, you had more pressing things to deal with.

For the second time, you flopped onto your bed, but this time, sleep was the last thing on your mind. In its place was the girl that chilled you with her presence mere minutes prior.

The smile on your face was immovable, as if it were permanently etched into your skin. You replayed the conversation over and over again in your head, highlighting the moments before she left.

You wondered, maybe pointlessly, if she could possibly like you back… Either way, you supposed it didn’t really matter now.

Even if she didn’t feel what you did, today’s ministrations proved that she at least cared for you on some level. That simple fact was enough to send you into a high unlike any other.

The idea of her actually reciprocating your feelings only propelled you further, your giddiness threatening to swallow you whole as you lay in your bed.

You spent the remainder of your night in a quiet daze, your mind consumed with nothing but familiar obsidian eyes and an addictively deadly smirk.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega #cryomancer is easily one of the coolest words i've ever seen btw #like look at that shit. it's awesome #oh and no offense to anyone named mary btw #i knew a very nice girl with that name #it was just the first thing i thought of while writing-

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monkeebratz · 5 years

Text

Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne AU - Super Meet

SO we have two ways that the Parisian Super Squad meets the Batfam.

The first, which I’m only writing down because I cannot forget about it, and its hilarious is: the Super Squad gets to Gotham, gets Mari’s texts, gets to their hotel room, throws their stuff in, transforms, and starts running around looking for her. They find her walking around the fashion district with the Wayne’s. Adrien, as Chat Noir, spies Marinette first. And, in typical fashion, acts first and thinks later.

So basically the Wayne’s watch a young, blonde, male version of catwoman throw an incredibly expandable baton between them and Mari, jump down, pick her up. Say “Bonjour. Au revoir.” And then make his expandable baton extend again and carry the now screeching Marinette to the top of the building where the rest of the Super Squad is waiting. Luka is going to strangle him. Holy shit. Chat Noir? More like Chat NO-ir!

The Batfam, of course, suits up and starts chasing after them. In full daylight. (These are the perfect opportunity for “Only in Gotham tweets” tbh) They catch up to Marinette berating all of them in incredibly loud and frantic French. As Multimouse. Going on about how irresponsible it was to leave Paris unprotected! Yes she knows Hawkmoth was defeated but it is the principle of the matter!! And they left BEFORE she told them about what happened with her bio!family and Batman! ALSO THEY KIDNAPPED HER IN BROAD ASS FUCKING DAYLIGHT IT DOESN’T MATTER IF THIS IS GOTHAM YOU SHUT YOUR TRAP CHAT!

The whole squad looks so defeated but then Mari starts crying and throws herself into Chat’s arms going on about how good it is to see them and she’s so happy they’re here and they’re so so stupid! And then its a hug pile. Big hug pile. The Batfam looks on in utter confusion bc, again, only like. Two of them know French. Then Batman coughs and they all look up and just. Don’t move. Maybe if they don’t move he won’t see them.

“... I need to be taking Miss Dupain-Cheng back to her family, now.”

“But-!” WHACK (why yes that’s the sound of Marinette kicking at them all)

“You kidnapped a girl in front of her family with no warning, in a very dangerous city. I’m sure her family would like the reassurance that she’s safe.”

So Batman and the Robins take Marinette back to Wayne Manor and Alfred clings to her (like he totally didn’t put everything together already they’re all so obvious). And then the Batfam, minus costume, comes barreling down the stairs and they all tackle Marinette and its another hug pile. Bc holy shit Mari why did you get kidnapped by your so called friends? Oh, they’re stupid? Can relate.

And then. Of course. Guess who shows up at the door. Just peeks their heads in, detransformed of course. “Uh, hi? We’re friends of Marinette? We’re here to visit her?”

Bruce is shrieking like WHY. WHY IS THIS SHIT GENETIC?! Internally. Can’t spill the beans QUITE yet.

Anyway, INTRODUCTIONS GALOR, YADA YADA, Dick and Adrien get along so well. Too well. Kagami and Damien also get along well too (they’re both ready to stab a bitch, don’t test them). Luka is too chill NOT to get along with anyone, unless they insult his friends and partners. Chloe is ready to throw down but also holy shit that’s Bruce fucking Wayne? Damn, Mari. DAMN. Already on social media about this.

(Also listen, I am shipping trash so I’m going to be vague as hell with things but in my brain this will be a poly!partners au so the Super Squad is just dating each other. But for the sake of everyone they could also just be really good/close friends, as they’ll be sharing rooms and be very touchy feeling and such. Its up to you. But just know, I’m just. Like this.)

So it basically just devolves into story sharing and puppy piles and the Wayne’s all looking at the Super Squad with side eyes bc HM. HOW FAMILY. ALSO STOP TOUCHING THE BABY! NO CORRUPTING THE BABY!! THAT’S OURS!!!

WE SAW HER FIRST SO FUCK YOU!

I’M LITERALLY? HER FATHER? FUCK? YOU? YOU CATWOMAN KNOCK OFF???

This is all happening with their eyes btw

And of course. The whole squad follows Marinette out as Multimouse to go meet batman, who Bruce told her had something to talk with her about. And she kinda cries bc SHE’S GOING TO GET KICKED OUT OF THE CITY BC OF HER IDIOTS!

Its not, its the Batfam taking the Super Squad to the Justice League tower. They weren’t expecting so many people but its fine. They’ll make it work.

Because Bruce had called the Justice League for an emergency meeting that night with the tone of voice that clearly said anybody who didn’t show up would have a bat hunting them down and shoving his foot up their ass so far they’ll taste patented leather for the rest of their life. They’ve almost never seen him so angry? And he’s bringing guests? What? The fuck??

Multimouse Marinette gets briefed that, as the current Guardian of the Miraculous, and a hero of Paris, she’ll be there to get a formal apology and an explanation about why a bunch of teenagers had to fight an emotionally manipulative super villain by themselves. Chat Noir is maybe hiding behind the rest of the Miraculous Crew and they’re only kinda notice but don’t think much of it tbh. Adrien does NOT want to be the one to explain that his FATHER was said super villain. save him.

Btw the whole group is having mixed reactions to the idea of meeting the Justice League. Adrien wants to run away but he also doesn’t care? Like. They’re all superhero’s, he gets that they can’t always help, but also. Fuck. He loves being a superhero but having someone with actual experience might have saved them all a lot of heartache. Chloe, meanwhile, doesn’t give a sINGLE SHIT about the JL. Fuck them. Fuck them so hard, so assholes ignored them and they’re going to be high and mighty. She may be a better person now but she will not put up with their nonsense. Not now. Not ever. Fight her. Luka is that sort of calm angry? He’s pissed that they brushed them off but since everything’s over there’s no point in holding onto his anger. There may or may not be a lot of meditating in the Bat Plane on the way there so he doesn’t use his lyre like a fucking BOOMERANG AGAIN and smack them all upside the head with it. Kagami doesn’t care? She’ll threaten them to the ends of the earth should they ever blow off such messages again, but she also just. Has very little emotional investment in them otherwise.

Marinette, of course, is freaking out and pacing and trying to channel her inner ladybug and screaming internally bc why. WHY. She’s angry but she also understands, but she’s still so stressed. just. please. Tiny squeaks.

And okay, they get there, and Batman comes in with ALL the Robins AND all these new kids?

Flash: I’m sorry, you called an emergency meeting because of your extended family?

Diana: HUSH

Because Diana, of course, recognizes them what and who they are. And is screaming bc holy shit? The Miraculous Holders are active again? Do they need their help? Where is Ladybug? Who is the Guardian? She just has. so. many. questions.

And Captain Marvel/Shazam (seriously wtf IS HIS NAME) is fangirling HARD. Because that’s the Miraculous Holders! The ORIGINAL magic users! SEVERAL of his people (Hercules/etc) were Miraculous holders on top of Shazam and HOOOLLLY SHIT THEY’RE HERE! IN FRONT OF HIM! HOLY SHIT!!!

Superman, Green Arrow, and several others are sweating bc uh. UH. OH SHIT THOSE MESSAGES WERE REAL?

Yes. They were real. And now they have Batman in full dad mode demanding an explanation. Several people (Superman, other mutation/alien esc powers) claim they went to Paris to check on the damage but they couldn’t find any, OR the supposed supers of villain.

Multimouse steps forward and starts explains how the Ladybug powers work and if they had bothered to contact them beyond telling them this wasn’t a line of communication to be used for PRANKS, they would know better. Diana chimes in with how she was helped created BY the Ladybug miraculous, etc, why did nobody ask her about this? Hell, why did nobody ask their resident magic user, Captain Marvel/Shazam???

Green Lantern: No offense, but doesn’t this all seem a little far fetched?

Chloe: ... Bitch, you have an alien ring that gives you powers. Shut the fuck up.

So there’s some arguing, back and forth, and Bruce looses his temper a little bit. Smacks his hand HARD on the table. “Enough. It is your job to investigate. It is not your job to leave the saving of an entire city to my fucking daughter, who was barely thirteen at the time this all started. As far as I’m concerned, this can never, ever, happen again. Wonder Woman, Captain, I assume you’d be willing to go through our notifications for any discrepancies?”

And there’s a huge moment of silence. Everyone’s staring at him. Multimouse squeaks. Red Hood just. “Good going, Bats. Real smooth.”

Chat: OH MY GOD YOUR DAD IS BATMAN? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING, WHY- HOOOOO OH MY GOD YOUR DAD! BATMAN! IS DAD! YOUR DAD WHO IS ALSO-!

Viperion is making wheezing noises and covers Chat’s mouth and then there’s even more yelling and arguing and finger pointing, and Bruce wants a drink. And a nap. In whatever order he can get them.

Basically he gets Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel/Shazam to agree to looking through messages but also gets the hell out of dodge.

Next in, the reactions to all this tomfoolery. Also apparently superhero-ism is now genetic.

Tag List! (Please remember to send me an ask if you want to be added!)

@mystery-5-5 @mariae2900 @vgirl-10123 @iglowinggemma28 @deredereart @synnesstra @dahjokester @destinationdesignation @lordsmeldingtonthethird @emjrabbitwolf @unabashedbookworm @saphiraazure2708 @rhub4rb @romanoff-queen @octoberscorn@littleblue5mcdork @foxyrelina @severelyenchantedwonderland @dast218 @ace-aro-agender @rogueptoridactyl @kitkatcatfangirl @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @poshplumcot @iggy-of-fans @schrodingers25 @two-faced-biatch @moonlitarchangels @vixen-uchiha @rikku052 @elspethshadow

People who should be tagged but may not? So sorry, I’m still going to add you until tumblr stops being a dick about this.

@tbehartoo @wuvpancakes

#miraculous ladybug #maribat #batman #biological father bruce wayne #miraculous ladybug au #batman au #aaaannnd that's its i'm not tagging anymore i'm sorry i'm just TOO TIRED

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contemplatingoutlander · 5 years

Text

I’m so done with this nonsense

Yesterday I defended myself from attacks once again stemming from Purv and Paul and their supporters and I understand I was attacked scathingly by them in response.

I can’t defend myself again without being attacked even more. So there’s no point.

I have had this blog for over 4 years. I have a right to be on Tumblr without a group of people making my life a living hell here by frequently ridiculing me and talking trash about me in public.

And Purv, I’m just as stubborn as you are. The more you talk trash about me, the longer I will stay here. I am not going to let you run me off of Tumblr. You have no right to do so.

I’m sorry but outside of NST village, those of you attacking me look like a group of bullies. Someone from another fandom said they had never seen anything like it. It’s not a good look.

At this point you are making ES look good. At least they don’t publicly eat their own to the extent that you have done with me.

Purv you can keep your little NST crown. You can continue to espouse bullying the ES because they bully others.You win.

And you don’t have to be afraid of me. Even though I never would, I could release every screencap I have about you and your followers wouldn’t care. As a matter of fact a number of them know you were Mary Sass and alittlebitmasss (everyone and their sister knew that except the people closest to you) and they knew you attacked me using those sock accounts and they simply didn’t care because you hadn’t attacked them.

I can’t even begin to wrap my head around that kind of thinking but it is what it is.

So in this group you can do anything Purv. Any truth can emerge about you and it won’t matter. You are the Donald Trump of NSTs.

So I won’t bother to tell any more of the truth about you. The rest of the fandom already knows and it makes no difference to the NSTs and only causes them to beat me up more.

So you don’t have to destroy me. I’m not a threat to you in any way.

But what you have been subjecting me to Purv is exactly what you were put through by shippers and their mean girl allies in the early times of the fandom. I remember them jumping on you in groups and thinking that was bad. But the thing that I thought was worse was when they would then go back to their public twitter accounts and talk about you and make fun of you and laugh at your reactions to their attacks. I remember thinking this was just awful behavior that was like the worst of middle school writ large.

And that’s what you and your group have been doing to me for years. That’s why after a year-and-a-half of overt and covert harassment by Paul, you and some of your group, I finally snapped and spilled what I knew about you. I was just so angry for having been treated so badly for so long. I’m sorry if that hurt you but oh my goodness you have hurt me in so many ways for way too many years.

The kind of slights I did to your little group that you have magnified out of proportion is nothing compared to what they have done to me by publicly ridiculing me as a group for years. The worst offense of mine that started all of this for many of the NSTs was I spoke up against what I believed was an NST’s doxxing a shipper (I’m talking about posting the full real resume of someone, complete with job titles, places of employment and addresses with a link to the person’s full name--yes I think that is doxxing)! OMG! You’d have thought I’d murdered someone! They were furious. I had no right “to tell them what to do!” And yes, I know that particular ES had made a veiled “threat” against WS but we all knew she had no real association with football players so it was an empty threat. IMO that didn’t justify posting her real resume with real identifying information. And again, if you believed she was a “threat” just report her to the police. (BTW, a friend of mine from another fandom told me that anytime anyone doxxed someone in that fandom everyone came together and shut that behavior down. In that fandom at least, no one thought it was wrong to tell someone not to doxx.)

I’m sorry, if who I am as a human being and what I say offends you. But none of this had to have been made public. YOU all took it public--I didn’t. It was only after you all publicly attacked me did I go public with my side. Maybe I shouldn’t have done so but there is only so much public vilifying most of us can take.

My values are not the same as most of yours. That’s very clear. But just because I speak up about my values from time to time and you don’t agree with them doesn’t justify how you have treated me publicly.

But since some of you insist that I’m a “narcissist” (I suppose because I am opinionated and a tad arrogant and I will grant you that) I want to point out to you that being a narcissist in a clinical sense involves not having much if any empathy. I spend every working day helping people in emotional pain. You don’t devote yourself to caring for people in pain if you don’t have empathy.

And the reason I advocate for being civil to ES in our call outs is that I have empathy for them as human beings even if I don’t agree with what they say and do. It is this empathy I have for them that seems to not make sense to some of you. Sorry, but that’s just who I am and what I value. (And I’m not saying some of you don’t have empathy for others, just that some of you don’t understand why I have it for ES).

I also can’t publicly defend myself from all your individual little charges without it being a nasty back and forth and there’s no point to that.

So I give up.

You do your things and I’ll do mine.

I’ll continue with the debunks if I feel like it because that’s the one thing I’m really good at. But I’ll leave the call outs to you folks. You don’t like my style of call out because it is too “soft” on those “horrible” ES who don’t deserve to be treated civilly in your book. So what’s the point of adding my voice anyway.

But please stop publicly harassing me! If you want to talk about me in DM go ahead. (Although please stop indoctrinating newbies against me in DM. I know it has happened before because newbies have told me. That was a while back. I sincerely hope it is not continuing to happen. That is also a form of harassment.)

But the public ridicule of me is cruel. It is really cruel.

And you should understand how cruel it is Purv because you are doing to me what ES did to you.

But if nothing else it is also making the NST community look awful in the eyes of the rest of the fandom. It makes NSTs look like they eat their own. Like they aren’t nice people at all. If for no other reason please stop this because it is destroying the perception of the NST community in the larger Outlander fandom.

And now I am done with this.

PS: I heard that Paul thought that @prodigiousreblogger is me! 😂 Sorry, I’m not the one with the sock accounts. Prodigious has been a friend of mine for years. I don’t know what it was that made Paul think she was me but that is just ridiculous.

[edited]

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