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satuguro · 1 year

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✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH

[ ACT I: THE GLOW ]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#SYNOPSIS— xavier’s attracted to intimidating women, you and wednesday bond over murder methods, and you really need to stop being attracted to trouble.

#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb to lovers, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual content (later on)

#AUTHORSNOTE— spontaneously writing an xavier thorpe fanfic was honestly not on my mind but oh well here it is ! feel free to send me asks/requests about this series or for other wednesday characters

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

a valkyrie was not a mere label. it was a highly respected role, one that was not granted to simply because you were a child of odin. no, the position of a valkyrie was an important one, because every warrior who died in battle, every fighter’s soul, relied on you to bring them to valhalla — no matter what that was for them. heaven, hell, reincarnation — you and your sisters brought them there.

nevermore was seemingly the only available place in which you could reside. you were the youngest of the ten valkyrie sisters, the only one born into the 21st century (as the rest of them were much too old for you to count). odin tried to put his youngest daughter into every school imaginable; public school, private school, boarding school, juvenile detention.

all brought out the same results. you found the material easy and the lack of competition boring, or you were found beating some kid into the ground, your knuckles bloody as adults pried you off of them.

granted, every person you have ever thrown a punch at was deserving of it. but it’s not like the police care about the kid with a broken leg; they care about the person who carelessly broke it with their bare hands.

that was why you found yourself in nevermore, standing awkwardly next to your nine sisters as you loosened your tie around your neck.

the other students didn’t care to hide their stares, their whispers loud and very audible to you as you looked at every single one of them.

“don’t loosen your tie, y/n,” your eldest sister, brunhilde, said with a small look, her arms crossed as she stood towering above the rest of the passing students. “you must look presentable.”

“since when did you ever care about looking presentable?” you replied with a scoff, using one finger to loosen the black tie incompletely. you heard your second youngest sister, gunnr, snicker at that, her laughter quickly hindered by a glare from another one of your sisters.

“ever since father decided to send us to take you here rather than himself,” brunhilde snapped, bitterness evident in her tone as she clenched her jaw. her emerald green eyes flashed in anger; the fact that her father decided not to show up to something like this yet again wasn’t surprising, but it still annoyed her nonetheless.

“he was busy,” eir, the second eldest valkyrie, murmured, coming in yet again as the peacemaker. “besides— this isn’t exactly father’s scene. too many children.”

their conversation melted into the background as your eyes drifted around the courtyard. there seemed to be little cliques within the school — gorgons, vampires, werewolves, sirens, psychics — how cliche. your eyes however, landed on one boy that was painting a raven on the wall, his eyes already set on you far before you noticed him.

his long hair was tied back, his hazel eyes boring into yours as he stopped painting, his hand falling to his side. he was studying you, observing your purposely loosened tie, the sword necklace that hung around your neck, the dagger strapped to your side, and the nine buff women who stood around you. they looked nothing like you, but their energy was strong. powerful. unwavering.

you didn’t break eye contact with him, your eyes narrowing as you challenged him to look away first.

“y/n odinsdottir." a tall woman who practically screamed elegance interrupted your staring contest, forcing you to look away first. her hair was perfectly pinned up, and her cherry red lips curled into a smile as she looked at you. "welcome to nevermore. i assume these are your sisters?" she questioned, looking at your siblings with a warm smile.

"we won't be here long," brunhilde stated, stepping forward. she seemed to be about the same height as the woman, which seemed to please her greatly. she held out a calloused hand. "brunhilde. you're the principal, correct?"

"yes - larissa weems." principal weems' smile never broke as she shook your sister's hand. wordlessly, she began to lead the ten of you to her office. "i have made living arrangements for y/n - i hope she does well with roommates. one of her other roommates is a new student as well."

this new school was, frankly, a lot fancier than most of the schools you had gone to. it looked old, with too many ghosts and history hidden in its walls, but while the school stood out more than the rest, the people seemed to be all the same. prudes with enough money to have the world in their hands. teenagers who have never been told 'no' in their lives. cockiness and pride seemed to ooze from every crevice.

in a way, you found it amusing.

"it was honestly quite a surprise to find all of you here rather than your father," principal weems commented as she opened the door to her office, "i believe that he had told me that he would arrive." she situated herself into her chair behind her desk, placing her hands on the table and clasping them.

you stood in front of the desk, rolling your eyes at her comment. "he likes to lie," you stated bluntly, ignoring the glare eir sent to you as she offered principal an apologetic smile.

"what y/n means to say is," eir began, absentmindedly toying with one of her long golden braids, "our father is very busy. he has other business to attend to."

"he likes doing business." you continued, "especially on his bed."

one of your older sisters, skuld, hissed a small "y/n," as a warning for your words, making you huff in annoyance.

eir's smile was unwavering and her politeness was undeterred as she laughed lightly, "i apologize for y/n's words. she often.. lacks a filter."

"it's no problem, i assure you." principal weems' smile grew as she looked at you, "she's in very capable hands. later, she will receive a tour from one of her roommates, enid sinclair. she's very approachable; i'm sure they will get along."

that statement made your mask fall for just a second.

friends and lovers were topics that were often unspoken between you and your sisters. to put it frankly, it was hard for valkyries to truly find themselves friends with others or loving another because of something you called 'the glow.' valkyries, being a guide for souls in battle, had the ability to know when someone's death was near. it often appeared as a golden glow around the individual moments before a battle or before a specific moment. to help was to lose your position as a valkyrie. to lose your father's acceptance and appreciation of you. it was the foundation of your position, your one important duty to guide the souls of warriors, but there had been instances where the glow appeared for those you cared for. friends. lovers.

it had happened too many times to your sisters. they had all lost lovers and friends in battle, and had to be the one to guide their souls and leave them for eternity. but there came a moment in time where they all decided to stop caring so much for others. they focused on each other, protecting their own sisters out of fear of caring and losing another.

and when you were born, they warned you of that same fate. they warned you of how hard it was to sense death, to be a symbol of war and death. so to say that you would get along with another and care for them was hard to fathom, because your mind automatically thought of losing them in an instant.

and if you lost them and were not able to guide them, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

"i will say that your record is.. only mildly concerning, y/n," principal weems said as she pulled out your folder. she scanned through the pages, licking her finger as she turned and read every offense and crime that ended with you getting kicked out of a school. "you've sent tons of people to the hospital for horrible injuries," she murmured, and you swallowed, mentally preparing yourself to hear the list. "you've broken the limbs of many, gave concussions to many more, and in one instance dropped a teenage boy from a thousand feet above ground."

"all deserved. i hold no remorse for them," you stated, a proud smirk making its way onto your face.

principal weems' brows furrowed as she reached the last page in the folder, the words 'saving grace orphanage' in large letters at the top of the form. "kicked out of nearly 20 homes in the span of 13 years."

your smirk fell, your eyes turning cold as you glared at the principal. next to you, gunnr shifted uncomfortably, her hands clenching and unclenching in the instance she had to hold you back from landing a hand on your principal. "how did you get those?"

"nevermore requires all documents from students," principal weems read down the paper, her look of discontent and worry seemingly growing with every line, "even those that have been terminated." one line specifically caught her eye.

has been found at one location consistently. the owner of the property has claimed that there is no reason for y/n to be there, but she seems to be connected to it. if not found at her foster home, she is most likely found here.

how was it you were only here for a few hours and you now wanted to strangle your principal?

"they have been terminated for a reason," you seethed, "my sisters had them forgotten."

"for very good reasons," brunhilde added, her voice eerily calm as she rolled her shoulders back, fixing her posture. "that's private information only our family knows."

"of course." principal weems shut the folder abruptly, the warm smile (though it was nothing more than plastic to you) returning to her red lips. "shall we bring you to your room?"

"i didn't know that valkyries could be as young as you."

you raised a brow at one of your roommates, wednesday, her deadpan tone doing little to influence you as you shrugged. "i'm the youngest of the ten," you stated, walking alongside her as you followed your other roommate, enid sinclair, around.

"that sounds like torture. of the worst degree," wednesday said, making enid clear her throat to catch your attention.

truthfully, enid was much more extraverted than you would ever be, but you didn't mind. she talked, you and wednesday listened - it was a good system. and she talked a lot. the fact that she was bringing around nevermore's first valkyrie was something she seemed incredibly happy about.

good for her.

"i already gave wednesday the whole rundown!" enid said with a contagiously bright smile. "this is the courtyard. everyone kind of hang out around here between classes or just.. whenever!" she explained, practically bouncing with every step as she brought you around. "there's a lot of cliques here; vampires, werewolves - like me, gorgons," her eyes landed on a few people around the fountain, her smile faltering for just a moment, "sirens, psychics, the usual."

"did you kill someone in your last school?" wednesday asked, making enid gasp.

"wednesday! i thought we would bring it up later!" enid scolded, frowning as she nudged the dreary girl.

"i was impatient." wednesday's face contorted into one of slight discontent at the nudge, though she (surprisingly) didn't complain.

you however, merely shrugged in response, folding your arms over your chest. "not the one at my last one. i just broke his legs - why?"

"because rumors spread like wildfire at nevermore," enid explained, coming to a stop in the middle of the corridor, much to some students' chagrin "practically everyone's talking about it! i told you that they'd forget about what you did, wednesday," she said pointedly, making wednesday blink, which was frankly a rather large reaction.

you looked at wednesday, eyebrows raising in curiosity. "did you kill someone?"

"two people. not one."

"what was your method?"

"piranhas from my aquarium at home. and you?"

you hummed in appreciation at her method before responding with a curt, "flew up and dropped him from a thousand feet." it made wednesday nod once.

"impressive."

"okay, steering the subject away from death and murder," enid interrupted, awkwardly chuckling as she continued to walk. she came to a stop in front of the boy who had been painting the raven, her smile of relief much too obvious to go unnoticed by you. "xavier! you've made such good progress!"

"thanks, enid." the boy - xavier - turned around, his mouth seemingly going dry when he saw you staring at him. your arms were crossed over your chest, your head tilted up to observe his painting. "you're the one who dropped the guy."

your look of curiosity turned into one of annoyance, your eyebrow raising as your eyes snapped towards him. "what about it?" you challenged, and you heard enid laugh awkwardly yet again.

"nothing. just asking, that's all," a hint of a smirk made its way onto his face, his hand - the one with paint on it - coming out towards you. "xavier thorpe."

"if you think that i'm going to shake your messy hand, you must believe i'm an idiot," you said bluntly, eyes narrowing.

"both an idiot and impolite," xavier responded, and end immediately grabbed you as you tried to take a step towards him, turning you around and briskly walking you the other way.

you didn't want to see him again after your first encounter with him. you didn't like smug people who had nothing to be smug about - the competitiveness in you wasn't cut out for any of that.

it did come in handy however, for academics.

while it wasn’t as fun as war or training was, it gave you enough competition to feel satisfied in victory. public schools were far too easy in your opinion, private schools equally as easy with more prudish people, but nevermore was more interesting. everyone was smarter, weirder, and more witty than any normie— it kept you entertained.

for the past week, you had been dead set on being the best at every class you had. macabre literature, arithmetic, botany, anatomy - you kept yourself busy trying to make a lasting impact on the professors.

you walked into the art class, eyes widening at its size. huge windows allowed for tons of sunlight to shine in, but since it was a gloomy day (or “a wonderful day” by wednesday’s standards), you could only see the condensation and fog on the windows. on one side of the room was sculpture and pottery supplies, while the other had painting and drawing easels set up in a circle with space in the middle for posing.

principal weems wanted you to do something that didn’t include fighting, weapons, or punching, you were going to join wednesday in fencing, but you found yourself here instead.

the class was small and the teacher was as careless as ever, muttering something about how artists must choose their own paths when creating art. but as you walked in and looked at the few faces, your face soured when you realized who you had to sit next to.

“thorpe.” you stated coldly, sitting stiffly in the easel next to him. it was almost funny how out of place you looked, sitting with straight posture on the stool and staring up at the large canvas in front of you.

xavier however, looked as relaxed as ever. he smiled at you lazily as he looked up from his sketchbook. “y/n. how nice of you to grace me with your presence.”

“it wasn’t my choice — weems wanted me to do something.. nonviolent.” you picked up the piece of charcoal in front of you, lips turning down to a slight frown. you hadn’t drawn in forever.

“i heard you tried for fencing,” xavier hummed, watching you pick up art supplies and weigh them in your hand. “you know that fencing doesn't include actual stabbing, right?”

“i do know that, thorpe,” you grumbled, avoiding eye contact as you removed your blazer, leaving only your white button up and messy tie. you rolled up your sleeves, oblivious to the way xavier’s eyes slowly went to your arms.

you were strong.

he had always guessed it — he had gotten stoned with ajax the night prior and they spent the next hour searching up how strong every outcast really was. valkyries, xavier learned, had superhuman strength, agility, stamina, and fighting abilities, so he wasn’t sure why he was so shocked to see your toned arms.

there was a tattoo of a sword on your inner forearm. it was so intricately drawn that he found himself staring at it for a little too long, simply admiring the style. admiring the way it decorated your skin.

"it's stupid how there's no actual stabbing in it," you continued, absentmindedly rolling up your sleeves. you side-eyed xavier, eyes uninterested as you watched the way he stared at your tattoo. "weirdo," you muttered, standing up abruptly and breaking his trance. “i’m going to do sculpting.”

xavier snorted, covering his gawking with his usual confidence as he fixed himself on his stool, spreading his legs just a bit. "since when did you sculpt?" he asked, half disinterested and half curious as he watched you shrug.

"one of my foster parents had a pottery studio." you stared at him blankly, a pause of awkward silence encompassing you before you said a curt, "bye," and left xavier at his easel.

xavier pulled his attention back to his sketchbook, eyes burning holes into his page of a certain pigtailed girl. for an hour he sat there, drawing in his visions on his sketchbook; many of which were of wednesday.

but one page in particular made him stop and stare. in his trance, much too focused on the feeling of his charcoal pencil on paper to care for what he was truly drawing, he had drawn what seemed to be an angel. it flew in the darkness of the page, her arms outstretched and its wingspan wide as she looked up at the top of the page. her hand was holding an invisible hand, but he saw the detail he put into the bandages that adorned her arms and knuckles.

hesitantly, xavier put his hand over the page, watching as the drawing began to move. the angel's arm moved ever so slightly, and his heart thumped loud in his chest when he saw your tattoo on your forearm.

subtly, he looked up through his eyelashes towards where you had been working, his mouth running dry as he watched you start to center your clay on the pottery wheel. you were surrounded by bowls, mugs, and plates of all kinds, being a rather quick worker with a delicate hand for someone who loved to fight. xavier watched you shape the clay in your hands, the substance molding easily as you moved it.

the sight of your eyes snapping up to meet his made him hide his enamor with a lazy smile and an awkward wave, which made you scoff and return to your pottery. but his eyes lingered on you, focused on the way your elbows were on your legs, how you were hunched over and how your arms were messy with clay. how your hair was much messier than when the class started. how your jaw was clenched in concentration, your eyes like a hawk's as you stared at the mug you were creating.

quickly, xavier looked back at his sketched, eyes set on the drawing he had done of you. it was such a specific image; how odd.

on your first friday in nevermore, enid had dragged you along with her to the harvest festival fair, saying something along the lines of "we have to ride every ride there!" that made you reluctantly agree to go. in any other circumstance, you would have opted to stay home and do anything but go out, but enid was enid, and she had no idea when to quit.

thing - wednesday's little hand friend - also contributed to getting you up and ready for the carnival. he was pretty persuasive.

which was how you found yourself awkwardly standing next to a carnival game after enid ran off with ajax, a boy she very obviously liked. it was confusing how people could be so blind to things like that.

the tight black long sleeve you wore was, in your opinion, enough to keep yourself warm as your body generated more body heat than many others. frankly, you looked pretty grumpy standing next to a carnival game you had already won, one of your hands holding a medium sized teddy bear that you (reluctantly) accepted. if it weren't for the fact that all the games were rigged, then you would have gotten the largest one.

"what happened to enid?"

you groaned as you turned towards the voice, finding xavier standing behind you, his hands in his pockets and his hair down. he was dressed in casual clothing, same as you, but you could recognize that subtle smug attitude anywhere. it was as if the smirk he wore could never get run down.

"went off with ajax. probably on a rollercoaster." you looked him up and down with a discontented look. "why are you alone?"

"i came here with ajax and rowan." xavier shrugged, leaning against the carnival table. a toothy grin crept onto his face, his tone teasing as he continued, "are you willing to keep me company?"

"no."

xavier rolled his eyes at your constant grumpiness, shrugging his shoulders as he quickly changed the subject. "i lost them both a while ago. i've just been walking and looking for.." his eyes left you, landing on some people behind you.

you looked back, immediately connecting the dots as you watched wednesday stand next to a guy near a ride, wednesday (surprisingly) contributing to conversation as they paid you and xavier no mind. an amused smile came on your face, and you held back the laugh you were about to let out. "oh my gods, you like wednesday."

xavier frowned, looking at you incredulously. "i don't," he denied. you watched his body movements with a smirk, observing how he fixed his posture and puffed his chest up ever so slightly out of defense.

"i'm not stupid, thorpe. you just gawked at her like a lovesick fool," you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest again.

xavier found himself staring at your arms, the muscles you had worked hard for easily shown off in your black long sleeve.

"if only you weren't so annoying," he muttered under his breath, sighing. "i don't like her," xavier repeated, following your actions and crossing his arms. he looked at you annoyedly, the amusement that danced in your eyes only pissing him off further. "i think she's interesting, that's all."

"denial is always the first step," you sing songed, your smirk turning into a cheshire like grin. "honestly, you should've seen the look on your face."

xavier scoffed. "what look?"

"the look you always have when wednesday walks by." you were laughing now, your careless teasing and prodding making his presence all the more tolerable in your opinion. "like a lovesick puppy. it's kind of pathetic, honestly - like, haven't you barely talked to her.." your words died out as your eyes caught sight of something you didn't expect to see within your first week in nevermore.

the glow.

you saw the shining gold before you saw who it surrounded. it was blindingly bright particles that floated and emitted a bright light that only you could see. all your senses were honed in on him, far too focused on the soul you had to guide to notice that he was following wednesday, who had trailed off moments prior.

your eyes widened when you saw rowan walk by, the golden glow surrounding him making your eyes cloud over in white. your irises and pupils disappeared into nothing, leaving your eyes a milky white. you felt that familiar tug in your chest, the one that brought nothing but dread and danger, and the immediate pain of loss. the glow that surrounded him was shining horribly bright; his death was really close.

"y/n? hello?" xavier followed your view, a snicker leaving his lips. "oh, i see." he watched as rowan's walk turned into a run into the nearby woods; right after wednesday. "i didn't know your eyes did that when you saw someone you like, y/n -"

"can you shut up, thorpe?" you snapped, shoving the bear towards him before turning around and walking away. your walk turned into a run as you followed rowan, knowing fully well that your agility would make you easily catch up with him. but as with the glow, your mind was only focused on him. nothing else mattered in that moment except for the fact that rowan laslow was going to die.

the sound of a roar made your hold your hand out, your tattoo of a sword glowing and making your sword materialize. on your back, hidden under the confines of your shirt, your tattoo of wings began to glow. that too, began to materialize, your wings writhing and stretching as it ripped through your shirt and spread out around you. pure white feathers flapped a few times, accustoming itself to the space, before you began to lift off the ground.

you flew towards the sound of the roaring, dodging trees and bushes before you saw a large monster over rowan, its claws digging into his chest. wednesday hunched over, catching her breath not too far away, and with no hesitation you flew faster and kicked the monster away from rowan. it let out another screech, one of pain this time, but you couldn't have cared less for its ugly form, for you were too focused on the dying boy on the ground.

the glow never lied. you saw his soul appear next to his body, merely a blue transparent silhouette in your eyes. you swallowed thickly, the pain of such a young soul being lost weighing heavy in your heart as you held your free hand out.

wordlessly, he accepted it. his hand was ice cold against your live one, and with that, you flew. you flew up thousands of feet, moving fast as your wings forced you up higher, higher, higher.

you broke through the clouds, breath heaving as you looked at the silhouette of rowan. the one that used to be alive, with a beating heart and living thoughts.

"there's a light," rowan murmured, his eyes set on the blinding light only he could see. but you saw nothing but the stars and the moon.

you only smiled sadly. "that will take you to where you need to go."

your job was a hard one. you brought them to the entrance of their death and allowed them to go there themselves and be there for eternity. there was no satisfaction from it, other than the fact that they weren't lost. they knew where they had to be.

you felt his silhouette disappear, the hand you were once holding now disappearing into nothing. your eyes reverted back to normal, and you looked around you at the emptiness around you. you were left with only the pain of losing another human.

you let out a sharp exhale, forcing yourself to think of anything but the soul you had just guided to the heavens, before flying back down to the woods. that was one of the hardest parts of your job; you felt the pain of them leaving. you understood that they would be missed, that they had an entire family and friends that would continue to miss them. you felt that pain from the moment you held his hand to fly him to the heavens, to the second he left.

the sound of flapping wings made wednesday look up from where she stood. she had been staring at the drawing rowan had kept in his pocket before your arrival, in which she quickly pocketed it and turned to you. your chest was heaving slightly, your arm bleeding from a twig that had seemingly gotten in your way during your flight between the trees. your wings folded behind you, and you opted to keep them out for as long as possible; it was hard to have them confined for long periods of time.

"did you guide him to valhalla?" wednesday asked, her tone as dead pan as ever, as if the fact that you had huge angel wings was the least of her troubles (which, in that moment, probably was). she was out of breath as well, her once perfect pigtails now a frizzy mess upon her head.

"i guided him to the entrance of whatever he believes in," you replied, looking down at his body and swallowing thickly. to change your focus, you glanced at wednesday, "your lack of response to a near death experience is admirable," you stated, making her nod curtly.

"truthfully, it was the most fun i have had all week," wednesday replied.

ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

#AUTHORSNOTE— that was the first part of my new series! feel free to send me asks about it and ask to be on the taglist! thank you sm for reading :)

2K notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 1 year

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I Have to Follow my Heart

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Addams Witch!reader

Characters: Addams Witch!reader, Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams, Joseph Crackstone

Briefly mentioned: Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Uncle Fester, Thing, Enid Sinclar, Bianca Barclay, Eugene Otinger, Tyler Galpin aka the hyde, Marilyn Thornhill (Laurel Gates)

Warnings: Supernatural fight, reader has visions, powers, mentions of Uncle Fester’s electricity powers, sacrificing oneself (more or less), bits and pieces of the last episode, the battle between Joseph Crackston and Wednesday, Xavier gets reader a phone, friends going through a tough time, Xavier and reader going through the motions of Wednesday’s theory

Word Count: 2,032

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At times I wished I had the same emotionless expression as my “cousin.” One might ask why I put air quotes around the word, it’ simple.

Her uncle Fester happened to stumble upon myself and mother’s violin when I was merely three months old during one of his “adventures”.

As I previously said, I wish I could copy her expression, especially now. You slam your journal shut, turning to look at your clock.

You grab your jacket and exit the room, making your way towards Xavier’s art shed. Your mind is blank but thoughts float around your mind, you wonder what it is he wanted to talk to you about.

With Wednesday firmly believing that he is the hyde, it makes you more weary of being alone with him… in the woods but if you can talk to him in his safe space so he doesn’t “totally freak out” as Enid would say, you believe it would do you good.

“Do you believe me?” Xavier spins around to look at you.

You gulp, this is not where you saw this going right after entering the shed. “I don’t- I don’t know,” you say, giving him your honest answer.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s either you believe that I’m not the monster or you agree with your cousin,” he hisses out the word you’ve grown accustomed to calling the pigtailed girl.

You ignore his gaze and opt to look at the floor. “I- I,” the thought you had written down in your journal crosses your mind.

“I don’t think you’d do all these things, but you have to admit the evidence she has does make it highly possible for you to be the hyde.”

He furrows his brows, face slowly becoming more void of emotion. “If you really believe that I’m the monster then why are you here?”

You raise your head. “I- I needed to see it for myself.”

“See what?” He asks with a tired tone.

“I- what’s that?” You point over to the sketchbook with a flower bookmark sticking out of it.

“That- that’s nothing. Why is that important now?” He’d never admit it out loud, but he was always impressed with how your attention could be drawn elsewhere within a second, even if it isn’t the most appropriate time for this to happen.

You ignore him and walk over towards it, opening the page to find a drawing of yourself playing your deceased mothers’ violin. You reach for the flower and find yourself thrown into a vision.

How odd, Wednesday’s the one who usually experiences these, at least from what you can remember. It is also weird how whenever she would have one, you would pass out.

Eugene’s screams flood your mind.

The cave where the monster hides is on fire.

The hyde’s wide and red rimmed eyes.

Red boots… red boots?

You wake up, blinking as your eyes adjust to the moonlit room. “How did I get here?”

The numerous footsteps echoing throughout the hallway draw you out of bed.

You open the door and listen to the scared and panicked shrieks of the other students, rushing over towards the railing you find the red aura of the siren song on the lower floors.

Crackstone.

Your head snaps over towards the side. You furrow your brows at the sight of a pale dressed Wednesday, not your cousin but- “Goody?”

She nods. “You must help her.”

��Help who?”

“The key.”

You remember the pigtailed girl mentioning this to you, you know exactly who she’s referring to. “Where is she?”

“I am going to her now, but you must guide her.”

“Guide her? Guide her how?”

“His black heart will end it… I must go to her now.” She starts to disappear.

“No, Goody. Wait!” You sigh and look down.

Bianca’s head snaps up.

You block her song and search for a window. At times like this, you’re happy you’ve climbed the walls of the school.

You stand on the edge of the roof just before the upper hallway where you can see Bianca and a few others. You don’t feel good, something’s going on with the black-haired girl, the urge to scream is on the tip of your tongue but you fight it as you protect the students.

You place a temporary shield around the area, preventing the fire from reaching any of the students and jump down. “Crackstone!”

He turns to you, the evil look in his eye should send shivers down your spine but you don’t let it, not wanting him to harm anyone.

“Another one. How nice.” The revived Joseph Crackstone taunts you.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

He aims his magical staff at you, luckily you are able to block it. “I am ridding the earth of you abominations!”

“You’re an abomination too!”

“Lies!”

“Your descendant raised you, brought you back from the dead!”

You spin around, avoiding his magic. “You have magic! You are now the very thing you despise yourself! How can you get rid of what keeps your heart beating at this very moment!”

“I am doing what should have been done years ago.”

“You’re going to die, and your magic will not be able to save you.” You raise your hand, trying to telepathically pull the staff away from him.

“Stay away from her.”

Why does this voice sound so familiar?

The arrow flies past your head, in front of the resurrected man, only for him to use his magic and flip it.

You cannot let it hit him or anyone else and put yourself before him to stop it. You spin around, landing on your back unable to catch your breath.

Xavier runs towards you, lifting your upper body off the ground.

“Get the others out of here,” you tell him once you can breathe again.

“What?” He furrows his brows, mouth curling in disbelief.

“You need to get the other students out of here. We cannot lose anyone else.”

“I don’t-”

“I have to help her,” you whisper.

He helps you up, “I don’t like this idea.”

“Good thing,” you snap the arrow and chuck it onto the ground. “You aren’t going to be here to see the rest of it… be careful.”

“You, too.” You push him away when you sense Joseph aiming the damn staff at you.

You stand beside Wednesday. “We have to aim for his-”

“Heart, yes,” she cuts you off. “I didn’t realize you were aware.”

“Let’s say, seeing the dead does have its perks at times. I expect no tears from you at my funeral.”

“Don’t-”

Xavier turns at her shout, his heart drops.

You run at him as Bianca stabs the man in the back. You rub your hands together, thankful for Fester teaching you how to use his trick now more than ever. You hold him in place and call out for her. “Now, Wednesday!”

She lifts the sword and stabs him in his black heart.

You can’t remove your hands from him, not until he fully disappears even then you fall, eyes closing.

The hands on your shoulders and whoever’s attempting to do CPR bring you out of your quick reenergize nap.

You open your eyes and give three a tired smile.

The artist helps you sit up and continues to hold you even as Wednesday wraps her arms around you.

You smile and kiss the top of her head, letting her know it’s over (you hope, unless Nevermore isn’t done with you all).

She forces herself off you, letting Bianca and Xavier help you up.

You nod to the siren. “Let’s go find the others.”

The four of you walk out of the school, searching for the waiting party.

You lean against the boy throughout the entire walk.

He hasn’t said a word to you, and you don’t know what you could say to him other than, “I’m sorry.”

Enid rushes over to hug your cousin, giving you a moment to talk to him.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I believed you were the very thing that would terrorize the school when I shouldn’t have. I should have followed my heart.”

“I think I can forgive you. I mean, you did take an arrow to the shoulder for me.”

“And I would do it again if it meant I had your trust.”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt over my trust.”

“I should have listened to you.”

The corner of his lip’s tugs upward, “yeah, maybe. But now that you’ve saved the school, I think I can understand where you were coming from.”

“No, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t just brush it off, I know what I did wasn’t the nicest or most respectful thing to do when I’ve known you and have been your friend for three years. I know you; I have for years, and I shouldn’t have let someone else’s theories get into my head to ruin that trust.”

He nods, tucking the hair blocking his view behind his ear. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Your lips twitch, “that’s all I ask.”

Enid rushes over to you, hugging you not nearly as tightly as your cousin but enough to let you know how much she cares about you.

You leave Wednesday to finish her novel while Thing finishes packing for her. You wonder around, waiting until it’s time to leave.

“The feeling of eyes on me brings a chill up my spine and not in the fun way,” you think. “That would be a good thought to right down when I return to my room.”

You turn, facing the stairs to find him watching you which may be creepy to some, but you find it to be rather sweet.

He waves and leans against the railing.

You walk up the stairs, wanting to talk to him before your dragged out of here. “Are your parents coming to pick you up?”

He shrugs, “probably not… I got you something.”

“Really?” You raise a brow.

“It’s not much but it’ll be faster than the letters." He lifts the lid off the box, showing you your new phone.

“Don’t expect a call,” you inform him, not wanting to hurt his feeling. You must really care about him if you’re taking his feelings into consideration.

“I’m not.”

You squint your eyes at him, “seems you know me well.”

“That and,” he tucks his hair behind his ears. “I know you don’t like new things… at least, until you get the hang of them.”

“I guess we’ll have to see about this then.”

“I believe in you.”

“I trust that you’ll have a normal summer?”

“It might be fun if I get a phone call.”

“Don’t push it.”

He smiles, having a feeling that you’ll learn to use the phone faster to call him. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. I’ve decided to let it heal on its own.”

“No magic?”

“I believe it would be wise to save my energy. I have a feeling we’re just getting started with Nevermore and all it has to offer.” You take the phone out of the box and hold it. “How do you use this dark box you call a phone?”

He chuckles, taking it from you, “why are you calling it a dark box exactly?”

“It’s painfully obvious.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that. I already programmed my phone number in here. What exactly you were looking for?”

“I want to send you my aunt Morticia and Uncle Gomez’ address. I will be staying with Wednesday and her family this summer; we believe it would be wise if we stay together.”

“Okay,” he shows you how to use the phone.

“I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to remember all of this.”

“As long as you can turn it on and remember to charge it, you’ll be alright,” he assures you.

“Do you know if you’re ability can work over the phone?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never tried before.”

“Perhaps it could be our summer activity?”

He nods, not at all hiding his smile when you said, “our activity”. It seems as though there’s a chance for him to ask you out in the near future. “Maybe.”

#wednesday #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe imagines #wednesday series imagine #wednesday series imagines #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #xavier thorpe x #addams reader #xavier thorpe x addams witch!reader #xavier thorpe x wtich reader #xavier thorpe x witch!reader #xavier thorpe x witch reader #xavier thorpe x addams reader #crazyk-imagine

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tareray · 1 year

Text

New Years Eve- Xavier Thorpe

"Here," Enid says as she hands me a flier.

"A New Year's party, really?" I ask her.

"Yup, Thornhill helped me get it approved," she tells me while still handing flier out to people.

"Party's aren't really my thing," I tell her.

"You're coming," she declared for me.

"Why do I have to?" I ask her.

"Because you are my friend and you should support my hobbies," Enid says.

"I didn't know party planning was a hobby," I say to myself.

"Fine, I'll go," I tell her.

"Great make sure you get there at 10," she tells me as she walks in the direction of another group of people. I start walking in the direction of my art class when I hear my name being called.

"Y/n," someone shouts my name. I turn around to find Ajax.

"Oh hey Ajax," I say with a smile.

"Hey," he says back a little out of breathe from having to catch up to me.

"I saw you talking to Enid," he says.

"Yeah she is forcing me to go to her New Year's party," I tell him.

"Oh do you think she uh has a date?" He asks me nervously.

"No probably not. I bet she was to busy planning the party to worry about a date," I tell him.

"Oh uh great thanks," he tells me with a smile.

"You're welcome, I'll see you tonight," I say to him as I walk into the art room and take my see beside Xavier.

"Going on a date?" He asks me with a frown.

"What?" I question confused. Then I realize he meant Ajax.

"Oh you mean Ajax. No, he was asking me if Enid had a date to her New Year's party," I tell him.

"Are you going to the party?" he asks me.

"Yeah, Enid is making me go. If I had a choice I would definitely just stay home," I tell him.

"Oh," he says looking at me with a frown.

"Are you going?" I ask him.

"Uh yeah probably," he tells me.

"At least I'll have someone to talk to at the party then," I tell him with a smile.

"Definitely," he says back. After class is over I pack up all my things and start to head back finish my homework before the party. When I look at the time I see it's almost 9 PM and I quickly start to get ready for the party. I curl my hair and decide to leave it down. For makeup I did a natural base with just some smoked out brown eyeliner and for my outfit I chose to wear a sparkly sliver button up, a black mini skirt, and some knee high black boots. I quickly add some last minute lip gloss before heading out the door.

At the party

When I get to the party it's about 10:15. I get myself a drink then try to find Enid. When I see her she is talking to Ajax and I don't want to interrupt so I start trying to find Xavier instead. When I find him he is sitting in the corner with a drink in his hand looking at the floor.

"You know most people try to have fun at parties," I say to him as a take a seat next to him.

"Oh hey I was starting to think you stood me up," he tells me with a small smile.

"Me stand you up? Never," I tell him with a smile.

"Why are you sitting in the corner alone?" I ask him.

"I was thinking," he tells me.

"What were you thinking about?" I question.

"There is this girl I want to kiss tonight but I don't know how to tell her," he tells me with a frown.

"Don't tell her. When the ball drops just turn to her and ask to kiss her," I say back trying to make things easy for him.

"Okay," he says with a smile. For the next almost two hours Xavier and I just sit there and talk. When it's 11:55 we get up and I pull him towards the crowd of people around the TV.

"Aren't you going to go find the girl you want to kiss?" I turn and ask Xavier.

"Oh uh," he starts to say something but gets cut off by everyone screaming.

"Happy New Year," everyone screams.

"Happy New Year Xavier," I tell him with a smile.

"Happy New Year Y/n," he says.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yeah," I whisper back as he leans into kiss me. I kiss him back right away for a couple seconds until I pull away.

"I was the girl?" I question looking into his eyes.

"Obviously," he says before he kisses me again

#wednesday imagine #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednsday addams #enid sinclair #netflix #nevermore #weathervane #xavier thorpe #nevermore academy #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thrope imagine #xavier x reader #xavier thrope x reader #xavier thorpe imagines

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babymtal · 1 year

Text

gilded lily, continued.

genre: MAJOR ANGST, VERY GRAPHIC, 18+

warnings: gn!psychic!reader x xavier, (some) reader x wednesday, somewhat of a love triangle barely forms, reader is deep in grief, death of twin brother, death of mother, talk of mental health, overall possibly triggering content, descriptive scenes containing gore, guns, blood, self harm, death & suicide.

length: around 12.5k... don’t look at me like that!!!

you can find the first part of gilded lily: [here]!

notes: I want to thank everyone who enjoyed this story! I was very nervous to release this writing especially as my first work on this account but the feedback i've been given has been so amazing thank you all again <3

PLEASE be sure to read all warnings before continuing to read! I love you all so please be mindful of the content you consume and if you ever need someone to reach out to my inbox is always open <3

Xavier had returned to his dorm that night before his morning class. You sat in on your bed awake, basking in the sunrise as you read through the pages of the beaten up book. From the reading you had learned almost nothing new about this curse, very little information inked onto the worn pages. What you do know now, though, is that nobody who’s been cursed has survived longer than a week, most not even making it to five days. The information made your chest tighten, realization dawning on you that as the sun continued to take its place in the sky, setting ablaze hues of pinks and yellows in their wake, you were nearing the beginning of your fourth day.

You wanted to cry of grief, plead to whatever power above there could be for a second chance, to scream at the top of your lungs until they burned, and curse the universe that led you down this dreadful, dark path winding you to your life being ripped from you so suddenly- but your body pushed those emotions so deep, so far down in the tight, weaving vines of your heart. There, they stay simmering deep in your soul, forcefully lighting a fire to your insides. What had your family done to deserve such a cruel fate? With such little time did you have the energy to dive deep into your trauma and attempt to end this agony?

The thought of having to do something so vulnerable and scary without the security of your brother there to save you at any sign of danger brought a frown to your face. Spiraling down the small, deep pit of remorse, the reality of your brother’s death left you with a feeling in your chest you could describe as nothing but desolation. You hadn’t noticed before, too blinded by the need to get to the bottom of your brother’s gruesome death, but the whole world around seemed to just feel so bleak and unforgiving. An environment that was once so colorful it made you sick had slowly dulled, sombering to reflect the melancholic depths of your mind. Your muscles ached, straining with knots and pressure as the tension in your neck grew tighter. A slight buzzing in your ears accompanied the headache that constantly bloomed behind your eyes, digging its thorns around your brain; you were fucking miserable. The air around you even seemed to chill, leaving your skin with itchy, antagonizing goosebumps. Feeling a painful strain of a knot in your scalp had you realizing you haven't properly looked at yourself in a mirror since the incident, scared to confront the reflection that would stare back at you. You huffed as you shuffled from your position on the bed, trotting to your vanity, peering in the mirror to see your hollowed face in the reflective surface. Your eyes were sunken, deep bags pressed under your lash line to show your exhaustion. You looked like life was sucked out of you, and in a way it truly felt as if it was.

You sighed, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on your knees that were pressed to your chest in the small vanity chair. You couldn’t kill someone, there was no possibility of you even trying. Sure, you were no pure angel, nor a being of sunshine and rainbows, but murder? Fuck that. You sat for a long, quiet moment, mind racing in a frenzied panic as you came up short of options. After some time, you came to the conclusion that the only choice left was to confront your grief face on and put an end to all of this and you had to do it completely alone. Alone, you thought, scoffing to yourself. Your entire life was never spent alone, always being followed around by your brother’s trailing figure. Every memory of your childhood you held in the beats of your trembling heart, your brother was always somewhere nearby, experiencing things of his own at the same time. Everyone knows that twins have an unspoken bond but yours was incomprehensible, learning to communicate nonverbally with one another from a very young age, feeling each other’s boo boos and small, childish fits of rage unanimously. You were outcasts, after all.

Since you both were born you have been joined at the hip, parading through your childhood arm and arm, learning new things and developing your psychic abilities with the help of your doting mother. Where you were dark, full of shadows, timid, he stood not far from you, awakening your dried, wilting flowers and greenery with light, leaving a blazing path of optimism everywhere he touched, a soft smile ghosting his face. You both fit one another so well, as if you completed one big puzzle of the sun and moon. Your parents always boasted about their two little miracles, as they’d say. Truthfully, Y/B/N was the spine of who you were; your confidence, skill, and intelligence would be nowhere near the peak they were at now without him. He was always there to pick up the pieces and push you to try again, “This time, better”, he’d say, anytime you failed.

Suddenly, the mirror in front of you cracked, shattering into a circular pattern. You stood in shock, chair knocking the floor behind you, at the sudden loud bang. When silence fell once more in the room, you stepped closer to the mirror, a chill running over your spine as the air suddenly dropped in temperature. The air so cold your breath could be seen with each exhale you let out. Goosebumps invaded your skin, hairs standing to attention all over your body. Anxiety bubbled in your chest, fear that this might be it sending the alarms in your mind blaring, ears ringing. You turned, gaze scanning the room, looking for your brother’s mutilated figure. When you realized he wasn’t here with you, your eyebrows knitted together in question. Turning back to face the mirror, you hollered at the sight. Your face split into a million different small pictures on the shattered glass, only it was now mutated to show the infamous massive, haunting smile and void eyes. You wanted nothing more than the ground to just swallow you up, purging you from existence. Stomach churning painfully as your reflection moved closer, hands pressing against the glass as if it were alive beyond the surface. The reflection mockingly sobbed, jokingly letting out a teasing, “I’m sorry, daddy!” voice eerily replicated to yours. Suddenly, your doppelganger raised a large knife in their fist, handle decoratively carved with a shiny green jewel at the base.

You couldn’t look away or close your eyes to escape the horrific sight of you digging the large, shiny blade through your throat, nearly decapitating yourself in the process. You wailed in alarm, watching your now cleaved throat spew blood in all directions, splashing across your face and clothes. When the room fell to an uneasy quietness, you gasped, breaking from your reverie. The shock of what you had just witnessed froze you in place, unable to move even when a pounding erupted on your door. You hadn’t locked the hatch so when a few students burst through in a panicked frenzy at the sound of your screams you weren’t surprised. One of the faces you recognized was the one belonging to Wednesday Addams. She rushed towards you, face ghosting with a look of bewilderment at your blood covered, startled state. Your clothes were sticking to you, the smell of iron making your stomach lurch painfully, nauseous. The other students scattered, some to get help, others towards you, one to throw up at the sight of so much blood. Wednesday disregarded everyone around, shooing the stragglers off with a death glare before leading you carefully to sit on the edge of your bed, your eyes unblinking as they stared straight ahead, unfocused.

“Did you do that?” She questioned, emotionless. Her eyes flickered to the shattered mirror as if to emphasize what she was referring to before bringing them back to you.

“I don’t know,” you replied, body trembling. For a reason you’re unsure of, you grabbed Wednesday’s hand in yours, hold so tight, her skin paled at the contact so she couldn’t pull away. Her brows were connected in a confused, violated scowl before she looked at your frightened face. Hers softened, lips pursing as she grabbed your hand back, understanding you just needed a person by your side at the moment.

Despite having no real reason to, Wednesday stayed by you, never straying far from your connected hands the entire time as the nurses ran into your room, leading you back to the infirmary. She even sat in the chair next to the familiar uncomfortable nursing bed, arm outstretched to not break her hold of your palm as you lay there, head pounding. She was in the middle of telling you another bone rattling fact she had learned about whatever absurd interest she had at the moment when Xavier entered the room, eyes immediately landing on you and as he shut the door behind him. His gaze landed on the familiar black braids, his face morphing into one of perplexity as his eyes traveled to your hands interlocked. “Wednesday?” he asked. She turned in the seat, eyes resting on him as her eyebrow quirked in question. “What are you doing here? Actually, nevermind, I… I can take them from here you can leave now, please.” he spouted in a rush, face flushed.

Wednesday nodded back to you, moving to stand, hands unraveling when she saw your deadpan face. You could tell she sensed the tension between you and Xavier as she sauntered out the door after giving you a quiet, stolid, “Be safe.”

“Why was she here?” He asked, now taking place in the seat Wednesday had occupied seconds ago. “She was the one who found me when I had another episode- which I’m okay thanks for wondering- and she stayed with me. I’m not sure why.” You pointedly uttered, annoyed at his lack of care for your wellbeing. What was it about Wednesday that completely stole his attention away from you no matter the situation?

He coughed in embarrassment, apologizing softly before resting his hands on his knees, eyes glued to your now vacant hand that lay on the white bed at your side.

﹋﹋

Back at your dorm, Xavier layed across your bed, back propped against your headboard as he intently listened to your chaotic rambling of what you saw in your episode. He had refused to leave you alone, following you back to your dorm like an abandoned child after your departure from the infirmary. “Why are you following me?” you had asked, turning around abruptly, almost causing him to run into you.

“Well I can’t just leave you alone!” He insisted, eyes wide with a showcase that he assumed the answer was obvious. Despite your firm disputing of his claims, he continued to trail behind you, feet never faltering from the rhythm with yours as he bickered back, defensive of his need to stay at your side.

You sat inches away, back to him as your legs were thrown over the side of the bed. Your voice was wavering, unsteady with anxiety and fear. After you finished your venting, you looked to him, seeing his face in an angry scowl as he stared at his hands in his lap. He was battling with himself, angry with the situation at hand. It was just so unfair. Why did this curse decide to take you, his person? He broke from his self pitying thoughts to reach for your arm, fingers making contact with your smooth skin before your head flew back, a gasp racking your body, straining as every muscle tensed.

Xavier’s feet stumbled as he distraughtly ran through the dark trees that towered above him, moonlight splitting through the cracks between the dry branches. Loud sobs and deep pants left his mouth in rushed waves, composure completely crumbling as he fell to his knees, hands meeting the stone path below him, weakly holding his body up as he let an all-consuming painful scream out. His eyes wide with fear, pure terror entangling with his tears. The wail echoed through the dead shrubbery around him, voice getting lost in the cold air that swept by, tears choking him as he heaved. His vision tunneled and spun as he bawled. His breath steadied enough for him to boost himself back to his feet, sobs still vibrating through his body. His legs burned from the force he ran at, desperate to get back to the school as fast as he could, hollering for help desperately, his throat burning from the cold wind as he neared the gate that adorned the entrance to Nevermore.

A loud inhale filled your lungs as you came back to your senses. You panic, turning to find Xavier thankfully in the same position he was in before, eyes now trained on you patiently. You scrambled to wrap your arms around his figure, smothering him in a tight hug, tears staining his shirt as you bawled into his chest. He quickly reciprocated the hug, a hand coming to cradle the back of your head as he hushed you softly, calming you from your frenzied state.

“What was this one?” he asked after your breathing had steadied, hold on you not budging. He hadn’t had this kind of moment with you in so long, unknowingly neglecting you for the deathtrap of a girl adorned in black attire. “I think you saw me kill myself.” You stated, sorrow laced in your tone. You continued, “You were crying and screaming, running to Nevermore, begging for help. You were so scared.” You cried into his chest, recalling the vision.

“Your face was so terrified. Exactly like mine when Y/B/N killed himself in front of me.” You concluded. He took a deep breath, heart beat faltering a bit at the revelation. “That won’t happen. I swear. We’ll figure this out.” He assured, voice stern to hide his faux confidence. Despite his determination, you could tell deep down he knew this was not going to end well and that his time with you was coming to an abrupt end as his hands pulled you impossibly closer to him. He wanted to tell you his feelings, how you came around and just made him fall in love with you so easily, as if it was as simple as breathing. About how he felt like his heart wasn’t truly beating until he felt the thumping in his ears when he was around you. He wanted to kiss you, to show you how much he truly did care for you, how could he not when it was as much of an instinct to do so as blinking.

He knows his obsession with Wednesday is incomprehensible. He’s spent hours in his own head trying to assess every detail of the pigtailed girl, clutching at straws for reasons he always seemed to follow her every move like a lost puppy just to come up short handed. Dr. Kinbott and him had discussed in one of his many sessions a week back about how he had truly felt about the two of you. Xavier was never good at expressing his emotions, always choosing to deflect and run away instead. This was no different. He was scared, not only had he never truly felt love in his life, but to feel it so intensely, and so soon in his life? He couldn’t understand what it was about him that made him run away from what he truly wanted, and towards someone so wrong for him and the frustration it caused him ached in his core. What he did understand, however, is that what he needed was someone who would care enough to listen and love him; things he had never experienced and even considered impossible whereas you would deem simple and instinctive. He needed someone so devoted to him that they’d be patient enough to hear him out, understand his outbursts, deconstruct his walls. He knew the entire time, so painfully obvious, that the kind of person he longed for, needed, even, would never be Wednesday. Simply put, she was a narcissist; only feeding into the people around her to pawn them into a game of her own.

“Can I just ramble for a second and you listen, please?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence, the vulnerability of asking for your undivided attention making him feel small. He never shared his real feelings, usually masking it with anger or ignorance. You were shocked at his sudden outburst but instantly nodded, sitting up to face him.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since you suggested Weems let us take that shed and I know I’ve been… distracted, I guess, with Wednesday and I don’t even know why-” he huffed, chest raising with the sharp inhale he took before continuing his rant, “Truth is, my feelings for you scare the hell out of me, and that is no excuse for how I’ve been acting towards you, especially with the remarks about your family, but I’ve never felt truly myself or been actually heard before I met you. I don’t know what it is about you but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer with what is happening, and if you don’t feel that way I totally get it I’ve been so-” you cut him off, hands encasing his jaw, pulling his lips to yours to shut him up. You felt him kiss back after his shock wore off, large hands finding place on your hips. His fingers dug a little harder when you slightly broke away from one another to catch your breaths.

His hold on you desperately pulled you closer to him, guiding you to sit on his lap, legs on either side of his own. Your lips moved together harmoniously, warmth erupting all over your body when a muffled, pathetic moan erupted from his throat. You broke apart, staring into one another’s eyes, small smiles on your faces. The air around you cleared, bodies cooling down as the heated moment fell to one of peace, your grasps on each other encasing one another in desperate acts of love. There was no time left for the both of you, this moment was for all you wouldn’t have for later.

“I, uh, love you too by the way.” You whispered, a warm buzz veiling your heart, momentarily covering the ugly rotting organ beneath.

﹋﹋

When Xavier left once more at the sight of the rising sun, you bid him bye with a kiss that you tried to say I’m sorry and I love you with, hands around his neck to pull him close to you. As soon as he, begrudgingly so, left, you sauntered to your closet, dressing in a comfortable outfit, throwing your boots on. Trying to dull the painful ache in your heart was pointless, guilt tearing at your insides as you went over your plan in your mind once more. Dejected, you grabbed your phone from where it had been thrown between your pillows, turning it off as you made your way to your small desk. You threw the device in the drawer, shutting it close before turning the lights off and exiting your dorm, heading down the hall to the door at the very end corner. You knocked, waiting patiently as you heard the pattering of footsteps nearing. Wednesday was the one to pull the door open, deadpan stare not faltering as her gaze landed on your figure in her entrance. “I need your help,” you stated, “I’ll tell you everything you want to know on the way there but can you please not tell anyone about this?” you pleaded, watching her head tilt in curiosity. Her lips slightly curved into a smirk before she stepped forward, a small blush dusting her fair as she closed the dorm door behind her. She motioned for you to walk as you celebrated your successful mission of convincing Wednesday to join your plan in your head.

The walk to the art shed was spent explaining everything to Wednesday in shortened summaries. You started with the curse, everything you knew about it, how it had taken your mother years ago, moved onto your father, and somehow had circled its way back to your family, sweeping your brother along with it and now dancing circles around you. You explained your delusions, the smiles, the visions. She stayed relatively silent through the entire walk, nodding along and muttering a few Interesting's and Oh’s at the horrifying, unbelievable story you told. It was Wednesday Addams, though, of course she believed every word you were saying. She knew better than to turn a blind eye to something with such clear signs of underlying sinister happenings below the surface. She had dealt with all sorts of unexplainable, scary things others would cower at. In conclusion; Wednesday Addams was the exact person you needed for your plan.

As you entered the shed, you knew- or at least hoped- the coast would be clear for at least a few hours; Xavier had left your dorm exclaiming about how he would have the best day sleep of his life when he gets to his own bed. You knew better than to not second guess that statement, well aware of Xavier’s not so grand sleeping habits. You had explained to Wednesday your plan as you reached the end of the trail; If Xavier were to wake up or leave his dorm she would distract him, make sure he did not come to the shed under any circumstance, and when he went back to his dorm for the night she would come back to find your dead body, dispose of it, and never speak of you or the incident again. Somehow, she impassively listened to your plan, watching you pace around the shed, organizing your dozens of art covered canvases on one side and Xavier’s on his as you ranted off each detail, covering them all carefully with the sheets that were lazily thrown all over the ground.

She finally spoke after some time, dully stating, “I’m on board, but how are you so sure you’ll be killing yourself today? I thought you said you had up to a week.”

“I think I know how I can trigger it. I’m tired of hiding, and if it takes me, I don’t want it to pass onto another person.” You explained, watching her silently agree with you. “And how do you know the curse won’t pass onto me when I return?” She questioned, staring into your eyes, her gaze wandering a bit over your face. You were still attractive despite your tired and deteriorating state, she noted.

“It can only pass to someone else if they witness it. It can also only transfer if there’s trauma, and no offense, Wednesday, but you are clearly not a person of many emotions,” you ended with a slight chuckle. Her lip quirked into a small smirk, one that suited her quite well despite her somber appearance, you thought. Silence fell over the two of you as the air slightly thickened, tension rising slightly. You stared at one another, taking each other in. You took notice of her neatly braided pigtails, monotone attire that contrasted against her smooth, pale skin, and big, dark round eyes. You also took note of the faint flush that had never left her face since she had opened the door to find you. She was pretty, you could not deny that fact, as much as you dreaded to admit. Despite her spookish aura, her little button nose and full lips were pleasing to the eyes, freckles slightly sprinkling across her nose. She was ghoulishly breathtaking in her own way.

“You know, Xavier has some kind of obsession with you and… it made me feel some really not so good things about you, Wednesday, but I think you aren’t as bad as people make you out to be,” you whispered into the air between you. She took in every word you said, staring into your eyes, face still.

She nodded at your confession, lips slightly pursing before she spoke, “I have no interest in Xavier. In fact, I find his presence quite irksome, but you…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish. After swallowing the lump in her throat she finished, “your death will definitely be a tragic one. I’m sorry your family fell under such a horrible curse.” You were surprised she had opened up that much to you, a smile on your face before she turned to walk away at the sight of your dimpled grin, heading for the shed door in a sudden, embarrassed rush.

“Be safe, Wednesday!” You called out to her as she quickly departed.

You turned around grasping the sides of your easel with your unfinished artwork of your mother on it, moving it to the middle of the room. You grabbed the small lamp, moving it to accompany the easel along with the stool with your paint palette, brushes, and paint thinner placed at your convenience. You decided against wearing the apron, purposefully wanting to fully immerse yourself into the experience one last time, free of worry of making a mess. Inhaling through your nose and out your mouth, you took place at the easel, brush and palette in hand, mind focusing on the still air surrounding you, feeling it thicken as you stared at the morphed painting, the horrific smile on your mother’s face glaring back at you.

﹋﹋

As Wednesday marched down the stone path on her way to take watch of the boy’s dorm to make sure Xavier didn’t wake, she pondered about all you had said back at the shed. The tension between the both of you went ignored, rightfully so, but she couldn’t shake the slight tightening in her chest she felt as she left the old, rusty shed knowing the next time she saw your face you would be pathetically belittled to nothing but a corpse housing a horrific smile. She’s never felt any feeling for anyone at all, ever, maybe her younger brother but that didn’t count.

So why did her heart feel slightly heavier with every step she took away from you? Why did your genuine, happy, heart-stopping, oh god she was going to throw up, smile make her slightly dizzy as she glared down at her boots? What was it about you that had her wanting to turn around and convince you to wait and find a different solution? Her steps fell in speed, hesitance now overcoming her as she slowly continued to Nevermore. Should she turn around? She shook the thought off, speeding up again. She shouldn’t get in the way of your plan, one you insisted was the safest and least brutal option; though she had took note of the small laugh you made as she remarked that you should instead go out as brutal as possible to make an impact- anyway, over some stupid sensation she thought she felt in your presence.

Though, admittedly, she could now somewhat understand Xavier’s admiration towards you, and from what she had heard Enid say about you prior to your brother’s death, you were a reliable, genuine, intelligent person. All qualities she, herself, looked for in people that she had, dismissively so, claimed in her tight knit friend group. Not only were you a very gifted artist, but a psychic as well, like herself. She rummaged her memories for any sight of you, coming up short as she realized she truly never took notice to you before. She rolled her eyes at her wandering mind before speeding up once more, calves straining as she briskly trekked to the courtyard of Nevermore.

﹋﹋

Xavier had been abruptly disturbed from his sleep, the need to pee waking him with a painful ache in his abdomen. He quickly shot up, mind still foggy as he waddled his way out of his dorm room. This had alarmed Wednesday, her attention perking up from her large book at his figure making way down the hall from his dorm. She watched silently, a plan forming in her mind as he entered the male dorm restroom through the pillars, falling back in her seat with a relieved breath. It was a few minutes later when she saw him emerge from the restroom, back to his dorm, closing the door shut behind him.

Upon his arrival back to his room, he felt the energy from his short lived slumber coursing through him, realizing now that he would not be able to go back to sleep for some time. He sighed in annoyance, dragging a hand lazily down his face before deciding he would instead strategically use this time to work on a new painting. He wanted to create a huge art piece of you, a vision of what he would try to execute imprinted in his mind. He’s painted and drawn you hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, never quite having enough of sketching away the flashes of you he has in his mind through his days. Slight guilt bubbled in his chest knowing the sketchbooks normally full of you had recently begun to include pages full of his new dreary, pigtailed interest. He viewed you differently than Wednesday, though; hues of pinks and reds, completely enamored and sick with obsession of you. His mind reels at just the thought you permanently pressed into a large, attention grabbing canvas. He knew he didn’t have much time with you, no longer tiring himself with the self pity, instead inspired by the grief and his pure need to have you fueling his desperation to gift you with something beautiful and binding of both your passions before your departure.

When he pulled his coat on and made his way to the door, he pulled it open in a rush to find the deadpanned girl on the other side, startling him slightly as jumped back with a rushed “What the-!”.

“Could I use your place to study? Enid is too… Enid and the courtyard is full of loud imbeciles.” She stated matter-of-factly, eyes glaring up at him through her dark eyelashes from below. Xavier peered past her, seeing the view of the students in the courtyard who were chattering amongst themselves quietly, some with their heads in books themselves. His eyebrows shot up at her bluff, brushing it off with an, “of course,” and moving to the side to allow her in, shutting the door softly behind her as she entered.

Pulling his coat off, tossing it somewhere on the floor and sighing to himself quietly. His mood dampened a bit at the disruption of his plans but he moved to his desk and took hold of his art supplies and sketchbook, offering his desk to Wednesday nonetheless. He took a seat in the chair off to the side as he began sketching, mind full of you and all the little details of your face. He tried to portray the way you looked last night; detailing the drawing down to the exact curve of your lips, mold of your nose, and beautiful eyes that were brushed with dark circles to the best of his abilities, bringing you to life on paper. His eyes not once wandered from the drawing, ears tuning out Wednesday’s scribbling in her book and page turning every minute or so.

An hour, maybe hour and a half had to have passed before he finally broke away from his sketchbook in his lap, straightening his posture, and cracking his neck. He peered down at the finished drawing in search of anything he needed to tweak. Satisfied, he brought the sketchbook up in his grasp, holding it up to meet his eyes, waving his opposite hand over the drawing before it finally blinked back at him, the same small smile and flush ghosting on your face that he had seen the night prior. Wednesday watched the scene through the corner of her eye, intrigued at what Xavier’s attention could be so devoted to.

“Can I see what you’ve drawn?” She asked, emotionless, but trying her best to show her intrigue.

“Uh… sure,” he replied, handing the sketchbook to her, eyes scanning her face for a reaction. Yeah, sure, he was giving a girl he had been following around the past couple weeks like a pathetic dog, begging at her feet for her attention a drawing of another person he had been desperately longing for so long that his love for them begun to run through his veins, and yeah it may be a little fucked up, but when has Xavier Thorpe ever been anything but shameless?

“Wow, Xavier, this is beautiful. It looks exactly like them,” she breathed, taken aback by the detail of the artwork.

“Oh, so you think Y/N’s beautiful?” He joked, not expecting a response from the lifeless girl.

“They are,” she quickly articulated, eyes boring into Xavier’s baffled ones. Her face heated up a bit at the sudden admission, demeanor not faltering as she glared at the lanky boy sitting beside her.

He held his hands up in mock defense, sputtering out, “Trust me,” a short pause ensued as he carefully took back his sketchbook from her hold, “I am not disagreeing with you, at all.” His emphasis on the last words left Wednesday with a sharp pain in her chest, rolling her eyes not only at the feeling, but the smug boy who gazed upon his own artwork some more as well.

“Trust me, Xavier, the entire planet might as well be informed of your infatuation with them. You make it so plainly obvious,” she muttered, turning back to her book to hide behind her bangs. Her eyebrows couldn’t unlatch from one another as she angrily shouted at herself in her head to, please, get a grip. Why was Xavier’s affection for you suddenly leaving a bad taste in her mouth? Her whole life, boy after boy lined up, trying to knock down the infamous stone cold barriers of the Wednesday Addams, only to be met with such brutal rejections they left, mostly, in tears. So why did her eyes slightly glaze over at the drawing of you, the person that she did not care for days prior, only seeing them as another head in an ocean of pathetic outcasts, who she now was feeling jealousy for?

She brushed the thoughts away, clearing her mind and focusing on her breathing. She was a vital part to your plan that you openly pleaded for her devotion to and she was not going to let you down, despite the slight hammering in her heart. She focused back on her task at hand, keeping Xavier busy as you did whatever the hell you were doing back at that shed. She whipped her head in the direction in which he sat, watching his eyebrows furrowing as he peered down at the drawing, hands working to fix miniscule details in his artwork.

“Do you want to work together for Ms. Thornhill’s project, Xavier? I think it would be best to get a head start since we’re both here now,” she spoke, voice monotone. His acceptance to her proposal had her giving herself a little thumbs up in her head, successful in controlling the situation accordingly.

﹋﹋

A couple hours had passed, great improvements made as you tirelessly pressed your paintbrush to the canvas. Tears poured from your eyes in remorseful rivers, coating your cheeks and nose with splotches of deep amber, your chest heaving with messy sobs. You wiped your running nose with your sleeve as you stepped back, taking in the full painting, mind hazy with grief and memories. You had painted new details into your painting, your mother’s smooth, manicured hands now shown holding a gathering of black dahlias to her chest.

Your brother’s loud, exaggerated, youthful giggles rang in your ears as your mother’s slim fingers ghosted small patterns on your back. You sat in her lap, chin placed on her shoulder, small arms around her waist. She hummed a soothing melody as she picked at the thorns adorning the stems of the basket full of dahlias she had just picked. The air feels fresh in your lungs, mind quiet at ease, environment so serene you’re left teetering on the edge of slumber. Feeling you drop your weight in her lap, your mother let out a small, adoring laugh. “Yeah, mommy’s tired too,” you heard her say calmly, fingers never stopping in their path of drawing little doodles into your side. Your tiresome gaze trailed the tall, stalky vines climbing the outsides of the glass dome that your family was settled in, taking part in your daily “outside time'' in the garden. The windchimes left blossoming tunes in the wind, sunlight peeking through the small crevices in the vines. The sounds of your brother’s chuckles and father’s boots hitting the floor neared you and your mother. Her head rose gracefully, eyes gleefully peering at her husband’s. “Ready to go in, little storm cloud?” Your father sang to you, feeling his hand come up to pet the back of your head. Your mother cooed softly as you leaned back, nodding to her softly before sleepily resuming to your previous place in the crook of her neck.

You painted over the horrific smile that had appeared, replacing it with your mother’s comforting grin.

You sat in the attic with your mother and brother, attention directed to the easel in front of you as your mother and brother were off to the side at the large desk that sat perched in the middle of large bookcases. Your ears were ringing, mind racing as you painted every detail of the vision you had just seen. You had started experiencing visions at random, unwanted times recently and your mother was more than delighted when you told her the news. You were hesitant to do so until your brother had confronted you, admitting to being tired of having to catch you when you sporadically keel backwards. Upon the revelation of your blossoming powers she instantly took a hold of you and your brother’s hands and dragged you to her little attic space where she kept all her endeavors. Inside the space sat a large desk and grand, towering bookcases to the farthest wall. In the small space extension of the front wall where a small window sat, a short antique desk complimented the area with a crystal ball and a few mysterious bottles adorned atop. Dark curtains blocked the light from the window, showing the glowing crystal’s reflection scattered around the surface below. An easel, violin, and piano scattered around the rest of the area.You neared the ending of the painting, pictures of the vision blurring to nothing in your mind suddenly. You felt drained, not physically, but mentally. The overuse of your freshly developing powers has you needing a 24 month long rest. You sat back in the stool your mother had placed in front of the easel, gaze wandering to the figures of your mother and brother at the big, wooden desk as she read over a paragraph in the book they shared. He read along silently with her, attention devoted completely to what she was saying. You smiled, grateful that he was just as interested in this as you were. After some time resting, listening along to your mother’s lecture and reading, your mother broke away from the desk, leaving your brother to pick the book up in his hands and stand himself, trailing behind her. She sauntered over to you, excitement written on her features to see what results you had. An exaggerated gasp left her lips as she soaked in every detail of the drawing. “My little blue, you are so talented. Wow! Do you know what this creature is?” She asked, taking place next to you as she continued to stare at every brushstroke on the canvas, completely in awe. “No, it’s the one I saw in my vision.” She nodded in understanding, “That is called a Hyde. You know, a very good friend of mine, Morticia Addams, encountered one once.” She looked at you, your gaze still set on the painted big eyes and rotting teeth. When you met her gaze, your mind went blank. Her eyes were glazed over, squinted from how widely she smiled, only this time, it lit a comforting, warm fire in you. A wave of complete safety washed over you, wracking a sob through your teeth. You fell into her embrace, sobbing into her chest. She cooed softly, pulling you back to show you her smile once more and plant a kiss to the crown of your head. You soaked the comfort in, returning her soft gaze and smile as you embraced.

You camouflaged the empty eyes to now show your mother’s irises, dark makeup and mysterious squint.

Your mother’s shoulders bumped into yours slightly as you sat next to each other, perched on the black vanity bench like two birds on a wire. You lounged beside her with a sketchbook in hand, pausing your scribbling every so often to look back up at the mirror and analyze your mother’s reflection as she hums along to the record playing a low song and applies her makeup. You watch as she looks at herself in the reflection, memorizing the way her brows falter for just the slightest second as she gazes a bit harder at her appearance.“Stop that,” you blurt, putting your hand on hers that was placed on the surface in front of her. You continued, “I think you look beautiful, see!” you say. You raise the sketchbook in your arm to show your mother, her eyes falling from yours to the page. A smile paints onto her face as her eyes widen, moving unbelieving between yours and the artwork. “My sweet raven, look at your talent!” She boasted, eyes settling on yours as she teared up. When your mother had fallen pregnant she had hoped to birth her own best friend, someone similar to her in their own way but unique to themselves as well. When she heard she was carrying twins, her heart felt as if it was going to erupt from her chest and break into a song and dance. And when she finally got to hold you and your brother in her arms, she knew instantly that you were the best friend she had been pleading the universe to give her. Not a day since then have you and your mother not been completely intertwined with one another. Your brother was often in your shadow, but was mostly found not too far parading behind his father. Everywhere your mother went, her little best friend sauntered along, always finding a cosy spot next to her somehow, her doting husband and adorably needy son never not within ear-shot. She thanked the world everyday for your presence in her life, there to remind her of her reality when she was low. Her large, tearful eyes, adorned with a dark purple eyeshadow, were ingrained in your soul, a look you’ll never forget as she embraced you on the bench, muttering a grateful, “thank you, my love.”

As you leaned back, memories ghosting on your mind, you decided the painting was complete. It was unfinished just enough for your liking, knowing you could never truly bring your mother’s every detail to life with such little time. You signed the painting with a white fingerprint of your own in the very bottom right corner. With that, you carefully moved the piece to the side to rest on an unoccupied easel, replacing yours with a fresh white canvas. You quickly got to work preparing your canvas, washing over it with watered down brown acrylic, setting the primer over to smooth the ridges of the surface. You paced around after setting the large, round fan in front of the canvas to dry it. Your mind wandered to what you could paint, so many ideas flowing through your mind.

You wanted to paint Xavier, brush your admiration and love for him into the canvas so hard the future perceivers won’t have any choice but to also feel your emotions for the boy. You wanted to paint your brother, engrave his mark in this world into the surface, leaving a portrait showcasing the adoration so many felt towards him in the paint. You wanted to paint your mind, all that wanders through it, showcase the dark, gated forest within where every branch you feel and stone you walk on shows you something deeper to yourself. You had painted your brother and Xavier tons of times, mind gathering over every portrait and candid you’ve painted into a canvas or sketched across a page that adorned either of the two as the subject. You had never painted a self portrait before, knowing the struggles most artists have to express themselves in such a vulnerable way. You stuck on the thought a bit longer, pondering over it. How horrifically tacky it would be to paint your own portrait before you kill yourself, right? Right?

﹋﹋

Hours later, Xavier fell dramatically back onto his bed, moaning about being bored and not wanting to work on the project any longer. He grasped at his stomach, theatrically announcing his hunger to Wednesday. She rolled her eyes from her position in front of the large, halfway finished poster board. Xavier popped up from his spot to snag his phone from his sweatpants pocket, before dialing a number and bringing the phone to his ear, a few seconds passing before his voice falters into a lower octave, speaking into the phone to whoever picked up, “Hey, dude, what’s up?”

Wednesday tuned the rest of the annoying conversation out, occupying herself with cleaning up all the scattered materials that fell to the desk, floor, and chairs. She let her thoughts wander back to you, wondering if you were dead already or not. Usually, the thought of someone dying left no wear or tear on Wednesday’s parade, no, none at all, but as she remembered it was you she was wondering about she suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Swallowing the upcoming bile in her throat, she placed the scissors and glue stick in her hand down on Xavier’s desk, turning to him upon picking up on his telling the other line a quick, “see you soon”.

“I told Ajax I’d pay him 20 extra to pick us up some food.” He stated, rising from his position on the bed to turn on his small pill shaped speaker that sat on his dresser. Quiet melodies sound from the device shortly after, filling the silence between the pair. Wednesday sat at the small desk, returning to her reading of her large, dusty book as Xavier pranced around his room, doing who knows what, waiting for Ajax to arrive. Suddenly, a knock erupted on the door breaking both parties away from their tasks. Xavier rushed to the door, pulling it open with a celebratory, “Yes!” at the sight of the pizza box in the beanie-wearing teen’s hand.

Ajax scratched the back of his head, gazing at his shoes guiltily as he stuttered out a quick, “Enid asked to hang out so you don’t gotta pay me back, I’m sorry. Hope the pizza makes up for it?” Xavier deadpanned at the boy, huffing an annoyed, “That’s the fourth time this week!”

“I know, dude, but, y’know,” the boy said, pleading for the taller one to just let it slide.

Xavier sighed, setting the pizza down on his bed and gesturing his other hand for the boy to go with a holler, “Be safe! We don’t need any snake-headed kiddies running around with their claws out!” His face held an amused grin, softly smirking to himself at his playful jab.

Ajax rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, muttering a “Shut up,” before shutting the door as he left.

“So you gonna come get some or just stare at me creepily from the corner?” He called to the girl, watching her rise from the chair and make her way to the pizza box, face never showing any sign of amusement. The pair sat on the bed, pizza box between them as they chattered away awkwardly. They talked about classes, art, and the occasional gossip Enid shared with both parties. The conversation felt as if it was dying eventually, silence falling over them as the slices in the box depleted.

“What are your feelings for Y/N Y/LN?” She abruptly asked, making the tall boy choke a bit on a piece of pepperoni.

“Wh- Why are you asking me that?” His face scowled a bit, defenses raising at the sudden intrusion that the pigtailed girl had never been intrigued about prior.

“You drew her. That’s all,” she deadpanned, waiting impatiently for an answer.

“I’ve loved them since we basically met. I didn’t really realize it until recently, but, yeah,” he stated matter-of-factly, nodding his head to prove his confidence in the statement.

“What does loving them feel like?” She pondered, curiosity ghosting in her voice. Xavier was admittedly very taken back at the question, not once ever really vocalizing the deep, obsessive thoughts he held for Y/N.

“It feels like breathing, blinking, moving. Except when I do those things now I do them with a purpose. I can feel my heart beat a bit more when they’re around, can see a bit clearer. It’s like they fit perfectly right into everything I need,” his eyes fell to the floor beside the bed he sat on, mind searching for the right words to describe it all. He had never shared these thoughts with another person before, heart thumping against his ribcage as he gulped. His throat began to burn from the emotions being scratched open, scabs raw and bleeding in their wakening. He continued, voice falling somber, “but it also hurts like fucking hell. It’s a straining in your chest so tight you feel like you might die if you don’t run back to their side for immediate attention. It’s a feeling of thorns wrapping around your insides and squeezing so, so tight at the thought of losing them. It’s-” his voice fell short on his lips, feelings he just described blossoming at their mention, tears threatening his lash line.

“It’s a constant heartache of knowing no amount of time with them will ever satisfy you,” he sounded, serious gaze resting on Wednesday’s. Her eyes were wide with his descriptive, gut wrenching revelation. Xavier was deep in grief as he thought about his fellow tortured artist and the quickly depleting time he had left with them. His mind once again trickled off to the painting he wished to create, shooting off his bed as he quickly grabbed his coat from the floor.

“Not to kick you out or anything, but I have something I gotta do. It was nice seeing you, we can work on the project again tomorrow? You should get back to your dorm anyway, the sun is setting,” He rambled as he staggered around his room, finding his belongings.

“Actually, I had hoped we could spend time together for a bit longer?” Wednesday said, big eyes making contact with him.

“I’d love to, but I really have to go do this one thing. Tomorrow? Please?” He pleaded, hands clasping together. He rushed out the door as she opened her mouth to fight back. Quickly, Wednesday darted out the door, shutting it close behind her as she beelined behind the boy, pleading for him to stop walking.

In a hurried desperation to stop his trailing back to the art shed, she grabbed a hold on his elbow, pulling forcefully to spin him in her direction. She didn’t wait for the boy to gather his footing before sternly grabbing the back of his head and pulling him down to kiss her. Her throat bubbled up with bile, fighting to swallow it down as she pulled away, gauging his reaction. Or… more like lack thereof.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled back sharply, creating distance between him and the emotionless girl. “Are you fucking joking, Wednesday?” He began, sputtering, arms raising and flailing around, “You kiss me when I just tell you that I’m head over heels, disastrously in love with the person that everyone knows is going fucking crazy about to kill themself!” He didn’t mean to yell so loud, but the yet again tragic revelation that Y/N’s time was dwindling lit a fire in him, fury and sorrow blurring his line of judgements.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly spat, covering her mouth, gagging behind her cold fingers a bit at the gut retching kiss she just had.

“Xavier, I’ll be honest with you, okay, you deserve to know,” she began, thunder erupting loudly above them, her skin turned icy. “I have no feelings for you, Xavier, at all, and… and I don’t even think I like boys, or anyone, really, but I think I might have started to feel something towards Y/N as well.” her voice began to rise to adjust to the sudden, loud, spitting rain that poured over them. Xavier’s face dropped at Wednesday’s confession, grabbing her wrist and guiding them from the painful downpour to the pillared, circular halls of the court yard. His chest heaved slightly at the painful burn he housed in his lungs, turning to the girl with the now soaked pigtail braids. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. It’s the tortured artist effect thing, you know?” he joked, desperately trying to lighten the tension. When her glare failed to move, he coughed, looking down at his shoes.

“They’re also killing themselves right now as we speak.” She numbly voiced, fists balling at her side at the nasty, aching squeeze in her chest.

﹋﹋

You were so lost in thought, eyes glossy and mouth agape, your hand moving on its own accord, brushing instinctively against the surface with auto-piloted precision.

“My mother used to call me her little raven when I was young,” you said, falling into the taller boy’s side, an arm stretched out from the embrace to hold the detailed painting of your mother holding a raven in her hands. Xavier’s unoccupied palm ghosted above the canvas, pausing before his fingers twitched slightly, the bird’s wings now fluttering and your mother’s solemn face morphing into her famous, beautiful grin she often adorned. You never painted her smile, wanting to savor it selfishly, keep it for your eyes only, the vision never failing to simmer the ache in your heart. Sharing it with Xavier felt special, the vulnerability making you feel alarmed, but safe. His eyes were already on yours when you peered up at him. The tension rose a bit, faces only a couple inches apart. You felt his breath fan over your lips, your gazes not breaking from another’s. The realization of the intimate tension between you and your best friend struck you suddenly, quickly looking away from him and parting from the hug you were sharing.

Your painting came to still life slowly, void of details yet. Your unfinished portrait was dusted with somber hues, skin painted a much cooler tone. You had roughly blocked the colors out for your arms to cross over your chest, hands placed on your shoulders. You inhaled a bit, digging deeper into your heart as you let yourself zone out once more in deep thought.

You sat on your bed, brother sound asleep above you in his bunk, hidden under the dark emerald green covers as the moonlight crept through the black curtains, painting your room with a soft, light glow. Your hands grasped desperately onto the pillow pulled tightly over your face, smothering your ugly sobs. Moments prior you had been sound asleep, snoring softly, drool soaking the silk pillowcase below you until a sudden vision pulled you from your sleep, knocking the wind out of you, forcing your upper body upright, head tilted back painfully. The sight of your dead family members in front of you, blood mixing together in one big pool that swarmed around your knees as you sat knelt on the hard, rocky ground. Three guns lay sprawled near each of their figures, matching bullet holes buried beneath their chins. Your wails and desperate sobs fell on dead ears as you crawled, hands splashing in the ocean of crimson. You sobbed as you fell into your mother’s stomach face first, a horrified scream leaving your lips when you turned and saw her wide, eerie smile and emotionless eyes staring back at you.

You sobbed as you continued to paint, pushing through the tunneled vision and pulsing temples when your lungs got tired from the heavy gasps and bawling.

Birds chirping, your brother rings the bell on his bike, smiling as the wind brushes his hair back. You trailed not far behind on your own bike, pedaling casually. Your brother turned to check you were still behind him every now and then, each time making a different silly face that would leave a giggle leaving your mouth. To mess with him, you quickly moved to the other side behind him, out of sight from how he would turn to the left to check for you. Upon not seeing you, he slightly panicked, breaking suddenly, and toppling over his bike, back hitting the ground. You swerved a bit, laughter erupting in you, cheeks straining from your mouth opening agape. You quickly made a U-turn on your bike, pedaling back to your brother’s disheveled state, seeing his look of defeat. You laughed harder, stomach beginning to painfully twist from straining muscles, chest heaving.

The sound of the teapot whistling fell on familiar ears as you sat at the middle of the long table, piles of thousands of puzzle pieces messily thrown on the surface to your left. Your brother, sat across from you, worked on one end, you the other, having silently agreed to racing, small hands quickly working the puzzle, progression inching closer to the middle. You were at an even tie, father sat at the end seat of the dining table, book in hand, head slightly bopping to the music playing from the record player a few feet away. Your mother delicately placed a cup of tea to your right, kissing your head. Your throat ached, head pounding from overexerting your powers the night before in training. Your brother was in similar condition, both of you being uncharacteristically, unnervingly silent. She returned, giving your brother the same treatment as you before fetching your father and her a glass of wine and taking her place in the seat between you and your father’s end seat at the table. She watched silently, carefully watching as you and your brother were focused on your individual sections of the large puzzle, unknowingly charging each other's metaphorical batteries. She smiled, the thought of you both having one another to depend on making her heart swell. You ended up winning that race, by the way.

Your mother and father swayed along to the piano that sounded from the jukebox that was cozy, snuggled up next to the fireplace on the wall. Hand in hand, they moved together, flowing against one another like one, big, gothic hippie lake. Or whatever the hell you called all this. The dark green antique electric train let out a powerful choo-choo, a fluff of faux smoke puffing from its little funnel as it trotted along the tracks that sat upon the shelves circling your living room walls. Your dad chuckled softly at something your mother had whispered to him, kissing her hand and her temple before pulling her closer, resting his head on hers. Their love made you sick in such a self-deprecating, aching way. Your mind slightly wanders from the sketch you’re working on in your lap, body sinking into the couch as you submerge yourself in your daydreams of a love and tenderness as pure and genuine as your parents’.

The Rave’N had come way too soon for liking, sun setting as Enid and you rush, hurriedly trying on outfits and swapping out the bad ones for newer options. Enid had settled on a sequin white dress with fluffy, feathered detailing on the ends. You had struggled to pick an outfit, finally deciding on a piece that was silky, flattering, and long. You weren’t one to wear white, usually settling for darker tones but to stick with the theme you opened yourself up to branch out a bit. Any doubt held in your mind about your appearance vanished the moment you finished getting ready for the dance in Enid’s room. She had begged you to come get ready with her since her roommate had just vanished, leaving her to have her dorm for herself for almost a month, she reminded you, and she was not about to prepare for this treacherous battle alone. You complied, even convincing her to let you do some parts of her makeup for her as you giggled on the bench of her vanity. Throughout the couple hours of preparation she opened up to you about how Ajax hadn’t asked her to go to the dance, trailing off to how she even caved and agreed to bring some stupid pilgrim normie kid. By the time you had gotten to the dance your thoughts were no longer on Enid, you swear you tried to focus on her and not leave her behind alone with that normie kid, but Xavier’s pleading eyes for you come dance was too hard not to cave into. He took your drink from your hand delicately, placing it on the table before grabbing hold of your hand tenderly, pulling you with him. His hands landed at your side when you reached the outskirts of the crowd. The song was melancholic, yet upbeat, swaying your hips to the tempo with Xavier following your lead, watching your every move. Admittedly, the way Xavier’s hair was pulled up and how his white suit fit snug against his tall figure had you swooning, hands on his chest, and bicep, body inches from his as you were moving along with him. Someone definitely spiked the punch, you thought, pushing the thought back to return to later as he shimmied closer to you, taking your hands in his. Bringing them adoringly up to his chest and sighing, a lovesick smile on his face and his wide, sparkling eyes soaking up every detail of your appearance. From the way your hair was done to the dopey smile you unknowingly also had etched onto your face. The way he looked right through you then knocked the air from your lungs, forcing you to pull your hands from his grasp, anxiety bubbling painfully hot in your gut at the blossoming in your heart. You pulled him into an embrace instead, the song moving to a slower one as if on cue. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you snug against him.

You neared the end of your painting, woeful and reminiscent tears swarming your eyes. They dropped in fat bubbles, sliding down the slope of your cheeks, over the creases of the side of your mouth, cascading over your chin, and disappearing down your neck into the cloth of your shirt. Your lips were dry, splitting from the loud, painful meltdowns as you concluded your self portrait.

You took one last step back, taking in every tiny detail on the canvas. Behind your head lay a bed of black dahlias, your arms reaching over one another, crossed. Your hands lay delicately over your shoulders, dark attire adorning your resting body. Your head tilted down a bit, wide eyes peering up at the viewer. Irises displayed sunken, as they do in their state now. You included the tears, red nose, dry lips. The flush of red in your eyes and cheeks at the grief. The slight upward furrow of your eyebrows, creasing slightly. The painting was beautiful, eerie, and reminiscent. Everything you’d hoped it would be. As you stepped forward, you placed the palette down with the paintbrush to accompany it on the stool to the side. You had an idea, shuffling to Xavier’s side of the shed, pulling drawers open in a rushed search of something sharp. You had found a small, sharp metal palette knife in one of his drawers next to an open sketchbook, the previous pages bent back mysteriously.

You took both items out, placing them on the desk above. “Fuck it,” you thought, mind contemplating invading Xavier’s privacy, “Gonna die here before he found out anyway.”

You flipped through the sketchbook for a bit, realizing nearly every single piece of artwork in the small book was of you. Some were just simple portraits of you, recognizing some of your favorite earrings he included or how he drew the different ways you style your hair. Others were still shots like you painting at your infamous easel, you reading at lunch, you talking to Enid with your arm linked with hers, smiles on your faces.

Despair was not a deep enough word for the absolute darkness that consumed you after seeing the drawings. The dread of knowing you were leaving behind people who loved you no longer felt like you were set ablaze, it felt cold. Like everything is stinging, I’m gonna die, hypothermia, kinda cold. The icy chills devoured you, painfully needing the release of slumber in the icy hold of death. You sighed, looking down, taking the palette knife to your thumb in a quick, pressed swipe.

You wish you could say you hesitated, or winced, but you didn’t. Not even when it stung pushing your fresh, bloody cut onto the drying oil painting below, marking it. The connection of your wounded thumb to the canvas flipped a switch in the environment around you. The air seemed to drop 10 degrees, chilling around you as your breaths became visible in small, frozen puffs. The wind began to sing a deep, thundering, mournful tune that struck you deep in your core, numbing you as you took the palette knife to every inch of exposed skin repeatedly, unable to stop despite the voice in your mind wailing, begging you to break out of your trance.

You sobbed, lights in the shed flickering to darkness. You ran to the easel, dropping the palette knife to the ground in a rush of adrenaline breaking you from your delusion for a second. A dark, loud, brooding boom sounded at your feet, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. A large, centipede resembling mush of human skin and flesh appeared from the shadows to the side of you, sound of wet flesh dragging along the concrete floor echoing in the small space. Pure dread in the form of an anchor weighs on your shoulders, your knees buckling at the sight before you as your throat is rubbed raw by the shrill force and volume of your blood-curdling scream. Your eyes nearly popped from their sockets at the sight of the creature’s height and size, towering over you as it released an ominous, bone chilling purr-like squeal. You cower away, falling onto your ass and scrambling as far back as you can, back thumping against Xavier’s art station. Your whimpers and whines sound from deep in you, fear evident in every inch of your being. You trembled, the creature slowly crawling towards you with its mutilated and boneless assortment of detached human arms and legs. Your face shriveled at the sight, a gasp leaving your agape mouth.

Your scream echoed through the forest around you, crows and owls in the trees around being terrorized out of their perches by the piercing sound, some swooping down low, past Xavier and Wednesday as they fight to run faster along the path. The sound of your howl, laced with fear, sent a shiver down the pair’s spines, tears erupting from their eyes as they pushed even harder, lungs burning in response to the decrease in temperature.

“What the fuck are you?!” You shriek, eyes impossibly wide in shock at the creature’s own; dozens of human eyes facing all directions simultaneously zero in on you, uneasy squeals erupting from the monster. “No! Please! Stop staring at me!” You plead, voice cracking, spit flying everywhere in the process of your cry. Your lips painfully stretched over your teeth, breaking the skin and springing blood as you pathetically wept.

Outside the shed, Wednesday stood with her foot on Xavier’s throat, the sound of your horrific pleas and sobs heard through the thin metal walls. A gun in her hand, loaded, pointed at the space between Xavier’s eyebrows. He lay crying on the wet, hard ground underneath her foot, hands wrapped around her ankle as her booted heel dug deeper in his throat at the struggle. He managed a small, “Why?” from his throat in between gasps for air as she subtly loosened her weight off his windpipe.

“This is how they want to leave. They’ve asked me to help them bring their dying wish to life and I will,” She stated, tone never faltering from her infamously monotonous, somber tune. Their eyes were glued to one another’s, tears streaming down their faces as they heard the bone chilling wails you let out inside. Wednesday’s composure faltered slightly, lips pressing one another and gaze lingering slightly to the door of the beaten up shed. The creature had cornered you against the wooden workstation, your shoulder digging deep in the handles of the drawers as it pressed against you, sticky to the touch and leaving a wetness behind on your skin as it made contact. You whimpered as one of its dismembered armed reached down, caressing your face.

“What the fuck are you!? Tell me! What are you? Why are you doing this to me?! Fuck!” You pleaded, screaming and hollering at the ungodly monstrosity before you. Its high pitched, groggy voice sounded to you and you only, “I want to be inside you,” hissing sounds erupting from its every orifice before pressing against your face so hard you fought to breathe, screaming muffled by the spongy flesh. You felt your jaw ripping from its place, joints snapping as the mutant pried your mouth impossibly wider, until the skin that expanded across your cheeks ripped, stretching thin until the tension shredded the flesh, blood trickling from the rupture. Your vision went black, mind fell to silence when the pressure of the deformed creature’s entry to your body pulled your body so, so, so tight that you deflated, corpse turning to mush and liquidizing to form into a puddle. Your fleshy, gorey pool of existence came to a simmering life, climbing into the existing creature’s mutilated body to combine into one entity.

Xavier and Wednesday fell from their threatening and defenseless positions at the sound of you choking and screaming on your own blood, some splashing across the window of the shed in a quick spray. Wednesday forced Xavier’s head away from the shed, moving in front of him, hands on his neck. She looked into his eyes, breathing deeply exaggeratedly, watching as he followed along dumbly.

“I know what is happening right now Xavier, but you need to either leave, or stay out here and promise not to come inside or look, okay?” she shouted, talking over the sudden increasing wind around them, she continued, “Okay? I promised them you wouldn’t see it. I’m going to go make it all okay in there again, alright?” her voice dropping to a near maternal one as his scared and emotional eyes met hers, nodding his head as he leaned against the tree to his right. Her hands fell to his chest, leaving the gun in his hands to keep him safe, unsure of what could be lurking in the woods. He dropped to his knees, dropping the gun as his hands land on the rough, stone path below him, weakly holding his weight as he let out a painful, bitter scream. His mournful sobs invaded the eerie night silence, wind carrying his hollers along with them. Wednesday entered the shed, body bag in hand that she recalled you reminding her would be in the bushes, hands shaking uncontrollably. The smell was horrendous already and the thin metal door swung shut behind her, iron and death filling her nostrils as her gaze stayed glued to blood pooling on the floor.

You lay against Xavier’s art station, head tipped back, throat jammed and pried open with his small, pointy, metal palette knife. Wednesday’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of your wide, horrific smile and creepy eyes. Her knees wobbled as she sobbed loudly, screaming at the sight, never been so traumatized by the sight of a dead body before. She soaked in your horrified stare, eyelids pulled so tightly apart that your eyeballs bulged from their place, bloodshot and teary.

Shortly after she wailed, the sound of the shed door pulling open paralyzed her. The tall boy stood just a couple feet behind as he let a deep, agonizing shriek of complete remorse echo off the walls around them followed by a ghostly, haunting silence. The sound of the gun in his firm grasp cocking has a gasp leaving Wednesday, tears dropping harder as she stood frozen in place, unable to even look behind her. A singular, bone-chilling gunshot rang against the dingy walls of the shed, singing into the dying trees and nature that lay outside. A heavy thud hit the floor as his body dropped, metal of the gun clanking against the ground alongside him. Wednesday wept harder, her hands wrapping around her sides as she fell to the ground, head hitting the concrete below weakly, eyes never leaving Y/N’s. She blindly reached around the cold cement above her, looking for the gun that was fired a mere seconds ago. Her fingers caught the hand of Xavier’s, ghosting over his red hot fingertips, skimming through the pool of his flooding blood before finally landing on the cool, smooth metal of the gun. Her fingers gripping it in her now slippery hold, she desperately, shakingly dragged the weapon to her face level, lifting it up to dig it in the space under her chin, cool rim of the barrel chilling her hot, flushed skin. She cocked the gun.

Y/N’s smile glared at Wednesday mockingly across the shed, swearing she heard the paling corpse whisper a rushed, quiet, “do it,” before she grinned as wide as her face could handle, cheeks straining so hard the highest points of her face dimpled under the tension, eyes wrinkling shut at the force. Wednesday Addams never smiled, face constantly stone-cold and unfaltering in her natural state but as your dreary, void eyes bore into hers she couldn’t help the instinctual movements of her face as she grinned wide at your corpse. Her hand wobbled slightly, lips splitting and drawing blood from how tight they pushed across her smiling teeth, fingers tingling as she pulled the trigger, everything going black.

As she expected, nothing came after death.

#OH MY GOD ITS DONE!#i hope all who celebrate xmas had a grand one #and to everyone else i hope your holidays are amazing and wonderful #i thank everyone who read the first part and this one and to all who left me messages or likes #i'm a little scared of how ppl will reac to the ending #i just wanted something as tragic as possible and i think i got that down pretty good #anyway! love u all sm pls be safe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagines #xavier thorpe #wednesday show #wednesday angst #wednesday the series #netflix #angst #wednesday x reader #fandom x reader #dahlia.wrks

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year

Text

Dating Xavier Thorpe

Him always wanting to sit next to you or having study sessions together even if your shared friends join or not.

Every event at school or during personal lives he’ll always ask you to be his date each way he’s asked cuter than the last.

Xavier’s arm seems glued around your shoulder or waist but he adores having you on his arm showing you off as his.

Helping him with his nightmares or when his thoughts seem to be too loud and dark, He loves the smooth tone of your voice and sweet gentle touch as you help him.

Knowing what his family is like and being more than willing to either stay at school with him or bringing him home with you, Because his dad doesn’t care he’ll spoil you rotten.

His love language is quality time but since being with you it’s gift giving and words of affirmations.

Going for walks with one another but also having movie date nights as well as teaching each other your hobbies.

Having arguments because of miscommunicaton and he’s petty as all hell and is the type of person to “I just think it’s funny how-”.

Behind closed doors he’s very soft and loves making sure you know just how much he cares and loves you. (his most favorite forms are, Holding you close, Whispering in your ear everything he loves about you, Kissing you or any skin he can touch).

He loves using you as his muse or even just having you sit with him while he works.

Him not ever shutting up about you to anyone who'll listen (mainly Ajax and Rowan before everything) not even as his significant other but as his friend as well.

Him becoming overprotective when the Hyde becomes more of a thing around the school.

Him drawing your favorite things and making them move or even making your drawings move for you.

Spending nights together even though your not meant to be in the others dorm but he'll always gladly sneak in for you.

He always goes all out on your birthday and anniversary (Flowers, nice meal, hand written letters for you, a portrait of the two of you when you were first dating).

Xavier has realized he wants a whole life with you the embodiment of sunshine regardless how you act or dress.

18+ coming up if your uncomfortable or underage please don't read thank you!

Dude loves receiving pleasure but also loves giving in tenfold because of how you look during.

When he's soft he'll hold your hands as he makes love, when he's not he's got his hand wrapped around your throat smirking.

Loves to dirty talk in your ear and watching your reactions and whimpers.

Adores teasing you in public and during class acting like he doesn't understand what he's doing when really he's evil about it.

Is a switch with dom tendencies so either when he isn't good mentally your in charge but if he is and you wanna top better start begging.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe imagines #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe headcannons #xavier thorpe hcs #dating would include

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gyuuberryy · 1 year

Text

jealousy jealousy (pt 2)

xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

>summary: you get to choose between them, make a wise decision!

>warnings: angst, crying, lots of fluff(i cringed while writing it lmao), kissing, slight mentions of food and blood, jealousy

>word count: 1.6k+

>note: ahh this is the last part, i couldn’t wait to finish it. the ending kind of gives an insight to the storyline of the show. enjoy!

part(1)

_________________________________________________

XAVIER

xavier walked through the forest to his hut where he practiced his art and made portraits. the usually chirpy forest was silent save for the crunching of dead leaves underneath his shoes. yet all his mind could comprehend was thoughts about you. his mind kept going back to what he saw at weathervane. how could you kiss tyler after what he and his friends had done to xavier the last outreach day? he deserved it though, afterall, he had hurt you so much and that too for the dumbest reason that you were not aware of. he really had to talk with you to fix things soon, otherwise he would continue to beat himself about this.

he looked up to dodge a tree that was in his way when he spotted two distant figures. as he got closer he realised it was tyler and..

you

he immediately stopped in his tracks. had things gotten serious between you and tyler that you were now meeting him outside of weathervane? his heart hurt as he observed the way you talked animatedly, making tyler chuckle.

everything felt hopeless now. you looked happy talking to tyler which was a stark contrast to when you told xavier that you didn’t want him as a part of your life anymore. before he could realise, hot, sticky tears rolled down his face. he had royally messed up a perfectly good friendship. now he couldn’t do anything about it.

tears blurred his vision as he turned around to go back to his dorm. he was walking through muscle memory as his mind went blank. he didn’t even realise someone was calling him till a warm hand latched around his wrist. he turned around to make out a familiar figure. he immediately wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve to clearly see you. both of your eyes went to your hand resting on his wrist. deja vu never felt so good.

you took your hand off him, as if touching him had burnt you. “i was shouting for you for so long, why didn’t you respond?”

xavier remained silent, the words not really settling in his brain. he was too mesmerised by how you were standing in front of him. he couldn’t believe you even approached him after what he did.

you huffed and crossed your arms, “i saw you staring at tyler and i” you smirked, “were you stalking me?first weathervane and now in the forest?”

xavier felt his cheeks go hot and he immediately shouted a no. your eyes slightly widened at his outburst. xavier cleared his throat, “uh i mean of course not i’m not a creep.” his hand went to scratch the back of his neck, a habit of his whenever he was nervous. “i wanted to get you something from weathervane to apologise for what i said yesterday.”

“apology huh? that sounds interesting”

your words struck something inside him, making him grab both of your hands and look into your eyes. taking a deep breath, he began his rant.

“y/n i’m so so sorry for neglecting you and ignoring you for the past month. the thing is.” he paused and gulped at the curious look in your eyes. “the thing is, i started seeing you in a different light. everytime i made eye contact with you, it felt like i couldn’t breathe. everytime you laughed, my heart fluttered.” your eyes softened at his words, encouraging him to go on. “i felt disgusted with myself for having feelings for my best friend. suddenly, i had no idea how to act around you anymore and i guess that’s when i started distancing myself from you. and i know i sound like a jerk for saying this, but wednesday was just a distraction. i just want to be friends with her. but i never wanted to replace you. i regret losing you.”

you were overwhelmed with everything he just told you. also ,the xavier thorpe LIKED YOU.

feeling overjoyed, you wanted to scream and dance around but you had to control yourself. “you could’ve just told me about it instead of being a jerk that day. i like you.”

xavier sighed, “i know i’m really sorry, i promise i didn’t mean any of the things i said to you. when you screamed at me it just set me off because i’ve been having these really weird vivid dreams-”

you cut him off with a kiss. xavier froze at the feeling of your soft lips against his but slowly held your face with his large hands and reciprocate the gesture. soon, you both broke apart. “idiot i just said i like you.”

his face was still riddled with confusion, “but you and tyler-”

you shut him up with another peck. “there’s nothing going on between us. i mainly kissed him to make you jealous, but also because he’s really attractive.” xavier raised a brow at that.

you hit him lightly on the chest, “you would've done that too if you were in such close proximity with him.” he just chuckled at your words.

he held your hand and led you towards the dorms. “you know he was surprisingly very understanding when i told him about all this.” xavier hummed at your words.

you turned your head towards him, “i was expecting you to be a bit more jealous you know.” his grip on your hand tightened, “oh i am jealous, i’m very much jealous. i was fuming that day when i saw you both.”

you giggled at his words. “wait were you crying earlier because of this?” he started whining and tried to shake your hand off his but you just tightened your hold on him and leaned on his shoulder. “okay okay i’ll stop.”

you both walked in a comfortable silence, peace finally settling down both of your bodies. you broke the silence to ask him something that was bothering you. “hey, what were these dreams you were talking about?”

xavier turned to you with a grim look on his face.

“well, it’s always this monster..”

_________________________________________________

TYLER

you walked towards the crackstone crypt with a skip in your step. you had just come back from clearing everything up with xavier. he had given you a sensible and heartfelt apology which made you happy and you were both back to your usual selves again. you had told him that the feelings you had for him felt more like sisterly love now. he felt the same way for you and gave you the green card to go confess to tyler. he was a bit wary about him at first, but you didn’t care. tyler always made you feel warm and fluffy inside. he was so freakin sweet. besides, what evil could be behind those puppy dog eyes?

you soon arrived at your destination to be met with a smiling tyler. his smile hit you like a big yellow school bus and you couldn’t help but smile too. you quickly walked towards him, the warm fuzzy feeling inside you growing with every step you took. finally, you stood in front of him with your hands buried inside your coat pocket.

“hey” you breathed out.

he grinned back in greeting,“so, why’d you call me here?”

your cheeks warmed up at what you were about to say. were you really going to do this? his ever present smile only made your heart flutter more. It was as clear as a beautiful sunny sky: he was an angel.

“i like you!” you blurted out. tyler sighed with relief, “i thought you were never going to say it.”

“wait i’m not done yet.” tyler stopped and looked at you intently. you took a deep breath and continued. “i was charmed by your looks and nature the day i met you. you were so nice to a person that you met for the first time, that too an outcast. i was surprised.” you took one of his hands in yours and rubbed your thumb over the back. “over time my feelings really grew for you tyler, and i didn’t even realise them till we kissed”. a rosy blush bloomed across tyler’s cheeks making you giggle softly. tyler looked into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. “i like you a lot y/n. i’m so happy you feel the same way.”

you stared at him with an adoring look then pulled him into a tight hug, melting into his arms. he buried his face in your neck contently while your cheek pressed against his white sweater. this was probably one of the best hugs you ever had, it felt like hugging a giant teddy bear. you both stayed in each others arms for a long time before you pulled away to give him a warm kiss. this time it was much more sweet and slow and both of you smiled into the kiss.

eventually, you both pulled apart and leaned your foreheads against each other. “should we get something to eat? i’m kind of hungry.” you nodded and pulled away from him. “i want hot chocolate, it’s getting cold”. you both held hands and swung them back and forth playfully on your walk to the town.

you couldn’t stop admiring him. how could someone be this perfect? while brushing a stray leaf from his shoulder, you noticed something on the collar of his shirt.

“hey, what’s this red stain? is it blood?”, you asked him, your intentions were only playful. he just brushed it off nervously, “it’s nothing, don’t worry.”

you missed the cold expression that came over his face.

_________________________________________________

TAGS: @jeluria @cat-loves-music @icarus-star @livingdeadgirl7 @hawkins-hs @mia-luvs @gracielou0518 @shadytalething @swagabclearner @seanicee @exiledangel @merakiaes @karagrace @justanotherkpopstanlol @pleasingregulus @sarcastic-sourwolf @captainalyss @aspenreadsfanfic @freyawhitexxx1 @liddy-lou-lou @carinacassiopeiae @bxtchopolis @temptressofthetarrot @godess-of-mist @starlight-poet

#wednesday #netflix wednesday #wednesday imagine #tyler galpin #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #y/n #hunter doohan #percy hynes white #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe imagines #tyler galpin imagines

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snzhrchy · 1 year

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—☆ OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY !

xavier thorpe x gn!reader

synopsis; xavier, you and his sketchbook

notes; based on a tumblr post i saw earlier, enjoy <3

Xavier’s side of his dorm reflected his personality quite well. It was usually a well-kept place with most of his artwork and books carefully put into his many drawers and shelves. At some places, however, many unfinished sketches were strewn.

You were sitting on Xavier’s bed, leaning against the bed rail as you concentrated on the book you were reading. Xavier sat in front of you, he was slouching down to to write—draw on his sketchbook. Every now and then, he glanced at you but shyly looked away once you met his gaze.

You and Xavier both sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence as you both continued to do your tasks. You kept curiously reading your book while Xavier drew gentle strokes on the parchment.

Once you got tired of reading your book, you turned to Xavier as you admired him, lovingly. You noticed how attractive he looked with his hair tied back but a few strands of hair were still falling on his face. His eyes were focused on the drawing, he was sketching something ever so carefully.

Your eyes then turned to the sketch he’d been working on, you tried to make out what it could be but were unsuccessful since Xavier’s hand was covering up most of it.

‘Xavier,’ you called out to him, he hummed in response — his eyes not breaking contact with his sketch. ‘What’re you drawing?’ You asked, puzzled.

‘Oh it’s — it’s nothing,’ he stammered. Upon hearing your inquiry, he started to feel rather uneasy so you just left it at that and didn’t question him further.

After a while, Xavier hesitantly looked at you and called out your name; you immediately looked up from your book with an eyebrow raised.

‘Here, I drew something for you,’ he lightly spoke as he handed his sketchbook to you. You happily took it.

You observed his sketch — it was a of you, sitting on his bed and reading a book. You admired it, the way he drew you was absolutely gorgeous.

‘So, do you like it?’ He asked nervously. You smiled, ‘I love it.’

#wednesday #wednesday imagines #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe imagines #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier imagines #xavier thorpe #xavier x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

could u do xavier being really high/wasted and he’s super clingy and says dumb stuff and reader takes care of him

A/n: this was purely the result of me being half asleep and trying to make something out of it.

It was to no surprise that upon making your way to your dormitory, you would hear Xavier’s incoherent babbling and light hearted giggles before you could seen his slanted form pressed up against the wall next to your door. Things at Nevermore were becoming more and more stressful for both staff and students alike, and everyone was looking for a primary method in making it all go away for a good few hours.

Some chose to focus heavily on their piling homework, extracurriculars or kept themselves busy by performing mundane tasks whilst others would resort to other methods. As in Xavier’s case, that would be getting high as a kite in Ajax’s room. You weren’t one to judge peoples perfected form of de-stressing, it would just be hypocritical if you did to begin with; However someone relives themselves was of none of your concern.

What was of your concern was the fact that if you didn’t do something with Xavier now before the teachers came to check on everyone, you’d both be fucked. The only downside in attempting to move Xavier the giggly over there was that he tended to became quite clingy whilst high; Which made it all the more difficult to haul him into your dorm without him managing to drag you down to the floor with him. Unfortunately time wasn’t on your side to debate on how you were going to move him, “Xav?” His head picked up like a dogs at the sound of your name as a dopey smile beamed across his face.

“Y/n, look!” He cried between giggles as he showed you his hands before looking taken aback at his fingers as he wiggled them, “I’ve got fingers!” He told you, astonished, “they’re waving at me y/n…I don’t like it.” You fought back a laugh at Xavier’s weariness of his own limbs as you knelt by his side. “They’re only saying hi, there’s no need to be afraid of them.” You played along by holding some of his fingers at the base of his hand, forcing them to move as though on their own accord.

Xavier gasps and leans into your side, “they’re doing it again.” He said in what he probably believed was a whisper but was more of a whisper shout. His doe eyes never left his fingers, on edge that one of them might pull out a switchblade and knick him when he wasn’t looking. “I believe they’re trying to tell you something, should i tell you what they’re saying?” You asked, seeing this as an opening into getting Xavier to become complacent enough for you to get him into your dorm. “You speak fingers, y/n?” Xavier asked. “Yep.” You replied.

“Tell me what they’re saying, tell me what they’re saying!” He chanted and you moved his fingers again randomly as though they were ‘speaking.’ You made a variety of faces throughout the ‘conversation’ before humming to yourself in deep thought. “What did they say, what did they say!” Xavier cried as he leaned himself heavily against you, causing you to groan at how heavy the boy really was. “They told me that you should let me help you into my dorm before we get into some really big trouble.” You told him as though you were telling a child. Was it right? No. Was it the only option you had in getting him to do as you say? Yes.

“What kind of trouble?” Xavier says softly this time, never letting his eyes off of you. “Dunno, you gotta let me help you into my dorm first.” You shrugged, dragging one of his arms over your shoulder as your other arm was brought to his waist, “ready?” You asked him. “Anything for my little finger buddies.” Xavier replied with determination and with minimum amount of effort you managed to haul him off the floor and into your dorm, where you quickly lead him to where your bed was before retreating back to the open door to close it shut.

“Y/n.” Xavier called. “Yeah?” You replied, looking back to find him staring at his fingers once more as he subconsciously wiggles them. It was cute seeing how serious he looked whilst trying to understand the language of his fingers. However it made for better blackmail material for later use should he ever get cocky with you in the distant future; Maybe you could even use this against him in the next Poe Cup so that you could score your team the victory and bragging rights bonus?

“What’re they saying now?” He asked and that was when you were drawn out of fantasy land and reminded that you were still expected to keep up the charade that you could -through some bullshit logic- understand his ‘finger friends.’ “Let me see.” You sighed as you clambered over your bed to sit besides Xavier as he held out his hand towards you to get a better look at his fingers. Once again you made a variety of exaggerated expressions, followed by a series of hums and other vocal choices to keep up the ridiculous illusion you created. Karma truly was a bitch in this instance as it dawned on you that until Xavier fell asleep, you were doomed to keep up the act.

“They ask if your hungry, sleepy, or otherwise?” You relied to him as he furrowed his brows in thought and his lip was drawn into a childlike pout. “I am kinda sleepy.” He admits almost sheepishly, resting his head against your shoulder, his eyes closing briefly before opening again. “Will you sleep with me?” He asks innocently enough but you had to hold back on chocking on your own spit at his request before forcing your mind out of the gutter; reminding yourself that he was still very much in fact high. “Sure Xavier, I’ll sleep with you.”

At your response Xavier was quick to cage you in between his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as he burrowed his head into the crevice of your neck, whilst his silky soft golden-brown locks tickled the skin of your jaw and the column of your neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He says lowly, voice laced with tiredness that you couldn’t help but nose the hollow of his neck. “It’s not an issue Xavier, just get some sleep for me. Okay?” You murmured. “Okay.”

Xavier fell asleep pretty quickly after that as you started running your fingers through his hair after wrangling it to freedom from being pinned to your side for so long and every attempt you made to move after that, a whine would rip from his throat and his arms would tightened their grip. You’ve long accepted that he wasn’t letting go anytime soon and eventually gave into your new fate as his personal pillow. It was worth it for the hassle you had to been put through prior so you were opting to see this as rather a reward that you could enjoy.

Besides you didn’t have much going on anyways, which was probably why Ajax purposefully left him on your doorstep…you’d get that Gorgon back sooner or later, you swore it. For now, sleep.

#xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe imagines #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x reader #Xavier x reader #Xavier imagines #Xavier imagine #Xavier fic #Xavier fanfic #Xavier x you

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satuguro · 1 year

Text

✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH

[ ACT VI: SMOKE SIGNALS ]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#SYNOPSIS— you teach xavier old norse, thing is intimidated by your father, and xavier breaks what little trust you had in him.

#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb to lovers, slowburn, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, familial issues (will be mentioned in this part), gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual/suggestive content (in this part & some other parts)

#AUTHORSNOTE— i listened to sm clairo, phoebe bridgers, and adele while writing this. good luck & happy holidays xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

your shoes weighed heavy on your feet as you walked up the steps to the familiar address.

1297 brook street led to a rather run down house at the corner of a neighborhood. it was simply the skin and bones of what a house should look like; peeling walls, a rickety porch that ran around the entirety of the house's perimeter, a roof that looked on the verge of sinking. the only detail that seemed even a little bit well kept were the flowers that gave the house some color. each was perfectly in bloom just in time for spring.

the rain fell on their petals, making the blossoms bend over slowly to allow droplets of water to slide off. you found yourself staring at how much attention had been focused towards them.

the sound of walking made you look up at the porch. your hair was heavy with rainwater as you stood in front of the house, your body shaking with the cold temperature. like a puppy that had been forced to stay outside, you watched your owner— in this case, a woman in her late 30s —tend to her plants that sat in her window. through the glass you could see her touch her plants with a tender hand. her hand ran under their petals as she flowered them, gently pushing them aside as to not get int he way. she was whispering to them as though the plants had ears of their own and a conscience to listen.

and at the age of 10, you found yourself envying a flower. because how unfair was it that flowers and plants were treated better than you?

the glare from within the house had blocked most of her face as she cared for her plants. but as she stood back up, moving her head out of the way of the flare, you saw how her face was nearly identical to yours. how she had aged so gracefully, with crows feet at the corners of her eyes and soft wrinkles adorning her face, but her face was yours.

you were one and the same, you and your mother.

you walked forward, feeling the familiar drumming of your heart as you made your way to the door. the overly large hoodie you wore was like a weight on your back, pulling you down to the porch's weak wood. but you continued to walk forward, each of your steps making the floor groan. your small hand wrapped around the door's handle.

but the door flew open before you could even do it yourself. but the sudden movement didn't deter your young mind from the goal that had brought you here in the first place. if only she knew the lengths you had gone to even appear in front of her. the people you had to escape, the homes you had to survive, the roads you had to run just to find your mother.

and she stood there, the woman who cared for her plants so wonderfully, the woman whose face you had taken, the woman who birthed you, and she scowled at you.

and with that, your proud smile faltered. it was as if all of those foster homes you had run away from to get to her was nothing more than foreshadowing or what was to come.

"go away," she had practically snarled at you, and you shook your head rapidly.

"it's me! it's y/n— your y/n!" you cried, your voice quick and nervous as you tried to make her see, to make her understand. no mother would ever turn away their daughter, you knew that.

so why was she pushing you away?

your hand reached out to take her forearm. but was as though you were nothing but flames, for she pulled her arm away from you roughly as though you had burned her. "mom—"

"i am not your mom," she seethed. and when you looked into her eyes— the same eyes you saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror —you saw crimson begin to seep into them. her eyes began to bulge out of her head, and suddenly, you were staring at the monster all over again.

you let out a cry as its claws dug into your chest like a meathook.

a gasp left your lips as you shot up in bed, your lungs crying out for air as you desperately gulped in breath after breath. sweat dripped from your forehead as you pulled your legs to the side of the bed, eyes settling on the wound xavier had patched up days prior.

you hadn't dreamed about your mother in years.

the moonlight crept along the floor, bordered by the window and stopping right at your calf. it had healed significantly in a short amount of time— granted, you had godly blood and the wound was, thankfully, not too deep —but it still stung when too much pressure was placed upon it.

a small groan came from the other side of the bed. the mattress sank as xavier forced himself up. he rubbed the sleep off of his eyes, his head turning to where you sat.

you were naked, only covered by the blanket on your lap, and sitting with your head hung low. it was completely dark in his room lest for the tall rays of moonlight that stretched over the floor. but he saw your back move with every deep breath you took in. the light sheen of sweat that covered your skin that he knew wasn't from the events that happened only a few hours before.

"bad dream?" he managed to ask groggily, tilting his head to the side. his hair moved with him; it was tied neatly, but that was before xavier told you to come over.

"mhm." you didn't turn to him as you responded softly. your mind was still reeling from the events of the dream. your nordic culture taught you to take some dreams with a grain of salt, but some dreams were considered to be foreshadowings of the future. you turned over the idea over and over in your head, a part of you wanting to hold onto the dream and see it as a sign, while the other part told you to ignore it and sleep.

you had been stressed ever since the last attack at the gates' house; but you were stressed almost always nowadays. it probably shown through in your dream.

"what about?" xavier pushed further, moving forward to sit next to you. his skin didn't touch yours, but he was so close to you that he could feel the warmth that radiated off of your skin in waves. like a moth attracted to the light, he found himself almost leaning into the warmth, only to stop himself from coming closer. but the heat made the hair on his skin rise straight.

a quiet settled between the both of you.

"it was nothing."

and like that, the warmth from you was gone and replaced by the cold. you stood up, grabbing your underwear from the floor and pulling it up your legs. clothes were picked up off of xavier's floor one by one before you stood before him, fully dressed.

"how're gonna get past the house master?" xavier asked, pulling the blanket up higher to cover more of his body.

honestly, he wasn't sure why he was asking such a question; he knew fully well that you could easily get past the house master. you had done so many times before, so why would this time be any different?

he didn't know why he was asking. maybe he didn't want you to go just yet.

"i always do," you said, flashing him a reassuring smile as you put your shoes on. with that, you opened the door and left, leaving him alone yet again.

xavier tried to peacefully go back to sleep. he had gotten himself comfortably again in his own bed, the area where you once laid now empty except for the warmth your body left behind. but as he shut his eyes and allowed the hands of sleep to drag him under, he woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare. a nightmare of dr. kinbott being murdered.

he didn't tell anyone. not even you; he guessed he was a hypocrite for not doing so, as he oftentimes found himself wondering why you were so repulsed by the help of others.

but xavier knew that he was lucky to still have your presence around. he knew your suspicions were raising just as much as wednesday's were; his appearance at the attack a few days ago did little to change your minds. so rather than tell you— or anyone, really —about the particularly horrible dream he just had, he shut his mouth and kept to himself.

besides, he had found that many of his visions have been at a pause lately. not because he had seen the monster in person or was the monster, for that matter, but because he had been spending his nights with you.

you had texted him one night when wednesday and enid were out of your dorm. it was such a short text; one he could have easily teased you for if he wasn't thinking so much about you before he received it.

i need you right now.

you opened your door to find him standing at the entrance in his pajamas, his hair wet from the shower he had just taken. your were in your pajamas too— nothing more than a shirt and your underwear —but to him, you looked beautiful. the ambient lighting from behind of you only added to your natural beauty, making you glow in front of him. like an angel on earth.

you grabbed him by the collar as his hands came to cup your face, meeting him in the middle as you kissed him feverishly. your mind was full of him; his peppermint shampoo, his fingertips cupping your face as though you would easily slip away, the sound of his moan into your mouth. you pulled him in closer, shutting the door behind him as you pushed him up against it. you pulled away, looking at him for a moment.

his lips were parted as he breathed heavily, his rosy lips shiny with your shared saliva. his hair was towel dried, the wet tresses dripping water on his black shirt as xavier's head leaned back against the door. you watched his adam's apple bob as he bared his neck for you. he was looking at you with pupils blown wide with desire and his green eyes darkened with lust. he was a sinful painting come to life, and who were you to not give into your temptations?

his hands found its home at your waist as you pulled him in again.

the next morning, the entire school was called to the funeral of the mayor.

for a select few of you, attendance to the funeral was mandatory. which was why you found yourself standing next to wednesday as you stared at the mayor's casket as it went underground. you could feel the mourning of his family, but you could only say nothing as you watched and observed. your eyes landed on enid, who was standing next to ajax. her eyebrows frowned, showing her obvious discomfort.

she had packed up her things the night of the attack at the gates' house. her anger was pointed more towards than it was with you, but you believed that she had every right to be angry and to stay with yoko for the night. at the end of the day, all she wanted was to have a girls' night and to be wednesday's friend; all of which, turned out to be efforts in vain.

"guard your heart."

"what?" you turned to wednesday, whose eyes were still set on the funeral proceeding in front of you.

she didn't turn to look at you. "guard your heart. especially around him," she nodded over to xavier, who was looking back at the both of you. but you were too focused on wednesday's eerie words to care.

"i do. you know i always do." not only around him, but everyone else.

you followed everyone else as the funeral ended, your black dress barely dragging along the ground as you walked. yet again you found yourself with no umbrella— the thought had slipped your mind and only regained traction when you arrived at the funeral —and you shivered as you felt the rain hit your skin. the rain was soaking your well pinned hair; you usually dressed better for funerals out of respect.

but your exposure to the rain was quickly hindered by someone holding an umbrella over your head.

"you need to remember that umbrellas exist," xavier said with a slight tilt of his head, his words laced with a smug and teasing tone that he seemed to only have for you.

"i forgot this morning, okay?" you huffed, wrapping your jacket closer to your body. "i was busy thinking about other stuff."

"yeah?" xavier hummed, following you as he walked next to you, "like what?"

"who the monster is," his expression soured at that, though you continued to talk, "where my wings are, when they'll grow back, when eugene will wake up," you listed them all off, ending it with a sigh of frustration. those thoughts were all circulating in your head like a hamster wheel; you almost could say that you were used to it.

"does that have to do with the dream you had this morning?" xavier couldn't help but ask, his eyes widening when you sent him a warning glare. "'m jus' curious," he protested.

"i mean— i guess." the both of you walked down the sidewalks of jericho, the rain still strong as you made your way around. everyone else seemed to be hurrying to get out of the pour, but you and xavier simply walked as though it wasn't soaking wet outside. your platform shoes splashed in the mini puddles that were scattered along the concrete.

xavier subtly moved himself to walk along the edge of the sidewalk. your words trailed off as you watched him do so, a slight frown pulling your lips down. xavier couldn't help the chuckle he let out at the sight of it, asking, "what?"

"why did you do that?"

"do what?"

"move to stand near the road." you watched a car pass by you without slowing, the puddles splashing under its rolling wheels. "you're gonna get wet, idiot. no one's gonna slow down."

xavier snorted in amusement, unable to fight the genuine smile on his face as he looked at you. "yeah, but if i don't stand here, then you'll get splashed."

you groaned in response. "you're so stubborn— you know what? it's your funeral."

you kicked at a stone as you both walked side by side, xavier holding the umbrella over the both of you. only a minute of silence passed before you both found yourself standing in front of the weathervane.

"after working here, you'd think that we'd have enough of this place," he murmured to you, and you could only nod with an exasperated sigh.

"i suppose, but you've been shivering next to me for the past few minutes now," you said nonchalantly, sending xavier a smug smirk. "you think i wouldn't notice?"

"just shut up and go inside, y/n."

you both situated yourself in a booth, you sitting in front of xavier. curious if whether a certain curly haired boy was working today, you turned your head to the cafe bar, making a noise of surprise when you saw someone else working as the barista for the day. "guess tyler's busy today."

the mention of his name made xavier's lips turn close to a scowl. a small snicker left your lips at the sight of it; you didn't even have to ask why he looked irritated just at the mention of his name.

a waiter approached the both of you, and after you ordered, you turned back to xavier.

"can i know what he did to make you hate him so much?" you asked, placing your chin on your palm. xavier leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest grumpily. hit actions only made you look him up and down, adding, "i mean, it can't only be because wednesday likes him, right?"

"why do you always bring this up?" xavier asked defensively, narrowing his eyes at you. he wasn't sure if you were unaware by how nosy you could be or if you were just doing it to get on his nerves.

and if you were to be honest, you didn't know why you kept bringing it up either.

maybe it was because you were tired of xavier looking at wednesday like a puppy that she kicked. maybe you hated that you always saw him look at her with so much care in his eyes. whatever it was, it drove you nuts. so you took it upon yourself to continue to push the 'xavier and wednesday' agenda, because in a way, you lived your love life vicariously through them.

because you knew that you wouldn't have something like that. you couldn't— not if you were so scared of losing someone.

and maybe, just maybe, if you continued to push, then there would be no need for feelings.

"because it's weird seeing you get all frustrated whenever anyone brings up tyler or wednesday or both," you rolled your eyes, "and as petty as you are—"

"i'm not petty."

"as petty as you are," you repeated, "you're not the type to get like that over a girl not liking you back."

xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and letting out a slow exhale. you were so infuriating without even trying to be.

you sent a smile at the waiter as he set your drinks down on the table. but xavier was a fool if he thought that you would forget about the topic at hand so easily, because you pushed his drink to him and took a sip of your drink before asking, "well? am i wrong?"

"no." xavier took the warm drink into his hands, holding it for a moment. "if you tell me what you saw in your dream, i'll tell you what tyler did."

your smug facade fell for a second. your sisters warnings of not opening up, wednesday's advice to guard your heart— all of their words echoed in your head. but you were equally as curious about him as he was with you, so you found yourself nodding stiffly. "the dream was about my mom," you began, feeling that familiar lump in your throat. "the first time i saw her, at least."

"i was 10— i turned 10 on the way to her house —and it took me a long time to find her," your eyebrows frowned as you continued, "a really long time. and to get to her house was even worse, 'cause i had to run away from a foster home, but i found her. that was what mattered. what happened in the dream was exactly what happened in real life," you stared blankly into space. your mind was so far away from you; far enough that you couldn't ground it again. "but when she was pushing me away from her and i looked into her eyes.. i only saw the monster. with its crimson eyes and its hunger," you shook your head to yourself, your eyes falling down to look at your lap, "it ended with me getting stabbed by it again. that was when i woke up."

xavier didn't say a word. he only he took a sip of his drink and set it back down on the table, his eyebrows coming together as he processed all that you had told him. "eir only implied that you were in the foster care system. i didn't know—"

"13 years," you mumbled. you had already told him too much.

you allowed silence to encompass the two of you yet again, your eyes never looking up from your lap. the only sound was the ambient sounds of the cafe; people talking amongst themselves, the espresso machine whirring loudly, and the pouring rain hitting the window you sat next to.

"last outreach day," xavier began shakily, making you look up in interest, "i was hired to do a mural for outreach day— like an outcast normie togetherness thing," he sighed slowly, his eyes glassing over as he reminisced about that day, "tyler and his friends came up and assaulted me. they punched me and kicked me 'til i begged them to stop. then they destroyed my mural.." his words trailed off into silence.

xavier's eyes tore away from yours as he looked down at his drink as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth; he was slightly ashamed that he told you, but he knew he had every right to be angry. xavier knew he would keep this grudge, because no apology could make up for how carelessly they beat him up that day.

"bacraut."

xavier look up at the sound of you speaking old norse. you didn't have an accent like eir did, but your pronunciation was, in his opinion, perfect. the anger still roared through his veins, but it seemed to shrink bit by bit as he looked at you.

you were already looking at him from behind your cup, your eyes sincere as you drank your drink.

"what does that mean?" he found himself asking, allowing his curiosity to overcome his anger for just a moment.

"asshole," you responded nonchalantly. "tyler's an asshole; reminds me of the kid whose legs i broke last year." you bit back a smile that only began to grow as xavier laughed, the sound like music to your ears. it was a hearty, genuine one that you couldn't help but laugh along with. it was such a fitting laugh for him, you realized; he didn't laugh often, and you considered that a crime.

and as you sat with him in that cafe, you realized that all the stresses you had been listing out moments prior went quiet. even if it was just for a moment, for just one single cup of coffee, you found yourself forgetting about it all.

the nightshade's library was as dark as ever when wednesday entered it. "uncle fester?" she called into the empty room, "i had hoped to bring my friend along, but she's far too busy at the moment."

she had found you sleeping soundly in your shared dorm for what seemed to be the first time in weeks. while wednesday knew it was none of her business (that was why she made thing check up on you), she knew fully well that you had a tendency to wake up at random moments in the night and never fall back asleep. she originally fully blamed it on the monster, but thing had reported to her that they had found you writing letters almost every night and sending it out through the balcony.

there was a raven that always stopped by. you always tied your letters to it before sending it off to gods know where. what was interesting was that, regardless of how many ravens you had sent off with a letter, you had yet to receive one in return.

but again, wednesday knew that it was none of her business. if you asked her, it seemed to be a family matter. wednesday didn't care for your family.

"who's uncle fester?"

wednesday wanted to smack the owner of that familiar voice. to her, xavier thorpe was nothing more than the monster who had attacked her, eugene, multiple innocents, and you. it was he who tore your wings from you, and yet he had you under the impression that nothing was his fault.

"what're you doing here?" wednesday asked curtly, looking xavier up and down.

the boy only scoffed, walking over to one of the many shelves. "since i'm an actual nightshade, i don't have to explain myself." he shook his head to himself, looking up at the dusty spines of the books. "why isn't y/n with you?"

"since when did you care?" wednesday snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

"you know what?" xavier laughed in disbelief, "nevermind. maybe it's a good thing that you aren't getting her into your detective shit anyway."

"why?" wednesday challenged, eyes unblinking as she stared at him, "are you scared of what she will think of you when she realizes you were the one who stabbed her in the back?"

"no, i'm scared that during one of your stupid investigations, she'll die trying to help you figure out who the monster is," xavier scowled, his heart beating with anger as he remembered the night of the rave'n.

"there's no need to figure out what i already know." wednesday rolled her words around in her mouth before continuing. "every time the monster's attacked, you've been right there."

xavier scoffed at that, but wednesdsay only continued. her words became more piercing with every sentence. "starting with rowan at the harvest festival. you were with y/n, sure, but there came a point where she was gone long enough for you to attack. then she kicked you— that had to have damaged your ego. then on outreach day, you arrived just minutes before the monster disappeared— even y/n said you left the weathervane a few minutes before the shift ended."

"i wasn't aware proximity was a crime," xavier said with a roll of his eyes, walking past the girl to make his way to the steps.

"then there's your drawing obsession. you have drawn the monster dozens of times, yet you've never seen it. or so you claim. you even drew where it lived." wednesday took a menacing step towards him, and if you didn't focus on her tells, you wouldn't have seen just how angry she was; the dangerous glint in her eye, how her eyebrows frowned ever so slightly, or how rarely blinked. "then when y/n and eugene went to investigate, you tried to kill them so he wouldn't spill your secret."

her accusation made him take a step forward, disbelief written all over his face. "you think i would hurt y/n and eugene? i visited them every day at the hospital—"

"attacker's guilt." wednesday snapped, "let's not forget how quickly you were at y/n's side when she was attacked. is that why you're suddenly so civil to her?" wednesday asked harshly, taking in how xavier's face contorted in anger, "so that you can lead her into a false sense of security just to finish off the job?"

"that isn't the reason," xavier seethed, fists clenching tightly. how could she think that that was the only reason you both weren't arguing as much as usual? she knew you two were sleeping together, but the fact that she molded his genuine care for you into something monstrous only angered him further. "you know that isn't the reason."

"truthfully, i don't, xavier. for all i know, you could just be around her simply because you weren't able to kill her the first time." she scoffed, "but then you were there again after tyler was attacked at the gates mansion," wednesday added, daring him to respond.

xavier took a step closer to her until he was right in front of her. the moonlight shone over the both of them as he looked down at wednesday. "if i'm the monster, then why haven't i killed you?"

"because for some reason i cannot fathom or indulge," wednesday said with a harsh exhale, "you seem to like me." her eyes softened when she looked at the steps, finding you standing there awkwardly.

you looked like you had quite literally just got out of bed. you were in your plaid pajama pants, your familiar sword necklace glinting in the dim light as it hung form your neck. one of your hands held a sheathed dagger and your shoulder acted as a seat for thing. you hadn't arrived that long ago, but you heard enough.

"how did you find me?" wednesday asked, stepping away from xavier.

thing pointed up at the entrance as you shrugged casually, playing off the scene you had just witnessed, "you two left the entrance open. honestly, i'm surprised no one's found you idiots sooner." you walked down the last few steps; you looked at xavier with an unreadable look, one he could only guess was subtle triumph.

from your point of view, he had finally told her how he felt. but the triumph you had wanted to feel alongside him didn't exist. you only felt that odd pit in your stomach, the one that almost felt like looming danger, but wasn't quite it.

you didn't like it. you didn't like that feeling of being unsure, of being indecisive in how you felt. you didn't like not knowing what was going on with yourself.

"i'm gonna go," xavier mumbled, turning away from wednesday and walking past you to get to the steps. but before he could continue to walk, he took your forearm into his hand, which made your eyes meet his green ones. "be careful," he told you, eyes looking over your face. his eyes lingered on your lips, but you shrugged his hand off of you.

"you should be telling wednesday that, not me." confusion was evident on your tone, your brows coming together to furrow. xavier's mouth opened to say more, but you were already walking away from him and greeting wednesday with an awkward wave.

shoving the unusual feeling in your stomach to the back of your mind, you turned to wednesday, managing a smile as you asked, "so, you and xavier, huh?"

wednesday cocked an eyebrow at you. "you are acting as though there is something between me and that psychopath."

"well there is, isn't there?" you asked with a small laugh— he had to have told her. "i've been telling him to just tell you how he feels— seeing him sulk over something so simple is frustrating."

"he is quite horrible at hiding his envy."

the sound of hard shoes hitting the tiled floor made you unsheath your dagger and throw it in the general direction. the blade hit the wooden shelf behind it, only narrowly missing the tall bald man that stood before the two of you.

"she's a fiesty one!" he laughed, your hands clenching together as you began to step towards him menacingly. on your shoulder, thing seemed equally as angry as you were; they were practically shaking.

"stand down," wednesday said to you, eyes awkwardly darting between her uncle and you. "y/n, this is my uncle fester. fester, this is y/n odinsdottir."

"a valkyrie!" fester cried, peering at you as though you were a rare organism in a tube. he must have guessed it easily by your last name. "i have never seen one up close, you know. far too dangerous— the last i tried to speak to one, she shocked me."

"probably brunhilde," you said with a casual shrug, "she's unpredictable that way, i guess."

"they are wonderful to fight with— as long as they are on your side, wednesday!" fester pointed a knowledgeable finger to his niece before giving you a cheshire smile.

"i like him," you murmured to her, making her nod stiffly. the feeling of thing shaking with anger making you look at them amusedly. "you're such a liar— you do keep grudges."

thing pulled hte middle finger up towards fester, who only gasped in shock. "you're not still made about the kalamazoo job, are you?" he cried out, making thing jump out at him. but you caught the hand before he could continue.

"not now," you ordered, your words making thing reluctantly stop resisting against your strong hold.

"where's the diary, fester?" wednesday asked her uncle, who only made a sound of surprise as he remembered why he was there in the first place.

he walked towards a painting of a man with incredibly long hair that covered the entirety of his body. he sported fashionable glasses and a hat, making you tsk in amusement.

"iggy was faulkner's right hand— trained a generation of nightshades," fester quipped happily, watching as thing climbed onto the table to pull the painting back. "and behind iggy itt.." the painting revealed a safe hidden well behind the wall. fester sent thing a sour look as they began to crack the safe, saying snarkily, "do i have time for a snooze, or can you crack this one quickly?"

thing looked back, obviously insulted, before cracking their knuckles and running through the combinations. only the sound of ticking form the safe's lock echoed in the room, and you let out a sigh as you walked nearby to retrieve your dagger from the wood. you pulled it out with one hand before safely putting it back into its sheath, its shining blade confined yet again.

"have you ever used that for torturing?" fester asked you curiously, reaching a hand out to poke at the dagger. immediately, you swatted his hand away, sending the man a glare.

"no, but we'll see," you said, holding the dagger protectively. your sisters had given it to you for one of your birthdays. they claimed that your father had it forged specially for you; but if it was truly from him, why didn't he give it to you himself?

the safe popped open, making your focus return to the topic at hand. wednesday pulled out a book— faulkner's diary —with the biggest smile you had ever seen her make. it was the little things, you guessed, that made her happy. like finding evidence for a murder case.

when you had returned to your shared dorm, you made a beeline for the window, peering through the glass. the lack of a raven at the balcony made you frown and turn away reluctantly.

you had been sending letters to your family in valhalla. each one was about your wings; questions of what would happen if whomever took them used them for power, when you would be able to grow them back, how long you had to wait. no one wrote you back— none of your sisters, and definitely not your father. you were left with empty returning ravens and no answers from the only people who could help you.

wednesday flipped through the book impatiently, eyes impatiently scanning every page for a sign of the monster, only for her to stop at one page. the eyes of the monster stared back at her just like it had many times before, and she tapped it as she said, "here it is."

you and fester peered over her shoulder as you read the chicken scratch of handwriting that was on the diary. "hydes are artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. born of mutation, the hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis." your frown deepened as you continued to read aloud. "this causes the hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator, who the creature now sees as its master. it becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose— great!" you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief at what you just read. "we're dealing with an owner and its puppy."

"not one killer, but two," wednesday looked at you in realization, the idea making you grit your teeth in anger.

the sound of the door knocking made you and wednesday send each other a panicked look. fester stood behind the both of you as you walked towards the door and opened it, your face falling at the sight of thornhill. "ms. thornhill," you said stiffly, opening the door reluctantly for her to come inside. your eyes looked at the corner where fester stood, a small sigh of relief leaving your lungs when you saw no sight of him.

"y/n," she said warmly, flashing you a toothy grin. you could only offer a tight lipped one in response, awkwardly leaning back on the balls of your feet. a part of you still didn't like her for cutting your wings off; xavier was adamant that it was for your own survival, as the stretcher couldn't fit you and your wingspan. you had questioned the teacher on the topic of where your wings were, but after you both had gone out in the woods to look for them, they were gone.

she seemed as clueless as you were as to where they were located. but that didn't mean that you had to be her teacher's pet.

"it's nice to see you up and about, despite the multiple attacks you have survived."

"right. thanks," you said through gritted teeth, wishing desperately for the conversation to end.

a sincere look went over thornhill's face as she clasped her hands in front of her. "enid has requested to room with yoko for the rest of the school year." her eyebrows frowned as an empathetic smile appeared on her face.

wednesday's face fell at the news. "she did?" she questioned, watching with dread as thornhill nodded with a sigh.

"when there's a falling out, i like to get both perspectives on what happened."

"seems pretty nosy to me," you grumbled under your breath, quiet enough for her not to hear.

"you three seemed thick as thieves," thornhill continued, oblivious to your barely audible shit talking.

wednesday shifted uncomfortably in front of the teacher. her tells were all there; the way she blinked more often at the news, how she was lacking eye contact, how her eyebrows almost twitched down. "ultimately, thieves turn on each other. i've seen it with my own eyes."

"deflect all you want, but you two know that you care about enid," thornhill said matter of factly, "and you both have to admit that she brought out a spark of warmth in you. especially you, wednesday."

the cold look wednesday gave thornhill made her laugh quickly, high pitched and borderline awkward, "oh, don't worry. just a tiny spark. barely perceptible to the average eye, but i noticed."

"unusual, considering you wear glasses and claim you're blind without them," you said to yourself, minding your volume as you let your body flop onto your bed.

"part of the dorm experience is making friends with people that you wouldn't normally connect with," thornhill continued, still deaf to your snarky words, "and those friendships often turn into lifelong bonds."

"i would rather buy a rope," wednesday interrupted dryly.

you wanted to laugh at that. you've seen the way enid had influenced the pig-tailed girl; you weren't blind. but wednesday was simply far too prideful to admit that she had actually made friends with her roommates.

"is it really so difficult for you to admit that you made a friend? i mean, you have y/n—"

"there's a mutual agreement that we don't label it," you said from your bed, still staring up at your ceiling.

"right, of course," thornhill said quickly, "but wednesday, why can't you just admit that you might actually miss her?"

"i'll survive alone." lie. "i always have."

"and you, y/n? what do you think about all of this?" thornhill turned to where you laid on your bed, watching patiently as you sat up and propped yourself up on your elbows. you seemed exasperated by the whole situation, but your face looked indifferent.

you shrugged. "enid's her own person, and frankly i want to stay out of it. she didn't want my apology," you glanced at wednesday warily, "she wanted wednesday's."

"and we all know that she's more likely to receive a monkey's paw from me than an apology," wednesday said coldly, but you looked at her with a knowing look— one thornhill couldn't see.

she was lying through her teeth.

you were awoken by wednesday nudging you, saying that you had to come along with her and fester.

which was how you found yourself peering at xavier from behind a tree, your eyes warily following him as he biked away from his studio. wednesday knelt down beside you, watching the gps of the tracker fester had placed on his bike. the emotions from the night prior were still running rampant, but you knew you had to solve the murders, so you only peered over wednesday's shoulder.

"do you not think that it's him?" fester had asked you curiously, "wednesday said that he used to be your prime suspect."

"i'm not staying committed to anything," you replied curtly. you could feel wednesday's disapproving stare as you turned to fester. "something just doesn't feel right. it all seems too easy."

"you're only saying that because you and xavier have something between lovers and friends," wednesday stated, making you huff and shake your head.

"it's just a gut feeling," you corrected her under your breath. "besides, shouldn't we hit the road?"

when fester brought you and wednesday to his 'getaway car' of sorts, you didn't expect it to be a puppy themes motorbike and cart. "you're kidding," you stated dryly, unable to hide the amused smile that tugged on your lips.

"i picked it up on my way out of town— i like to travel incognito!" a kooky smile brightened up his pale face as he leaned down the pulled out three puppy themed helmets.

now that made you snicker.

"safety first!" fester chirped, chucking the helmets towards you and wednesday. you all climbed into the cart and the motorbike, the helmets snug against your heads. hesitantly, you pulled the matching goggles over your eyes right as fester started the engine. "let's roll!"

the three of you followed behind xavier, all in your hilarious puppy themed helmets and matching bike. the wind blew the puppy ears of your helmet up, making you sigh in exasperation at the fact that this was how you spent your days now. honestly, you didn't mind it too much. it kept you busy.

fester came to an abrupt stop as xavier's tracker signaled that he did to. parking the motorbike at a spot that wasn't conspicuous at all, the three of you followed the dot from the woods. you felt slightly uncomfortable; not from the obvious invasion of privacy that was happening, but because you hadn't been in the woods for this long since the attacks. you didn't feel safe in them anymore; not as safe as you did when you had your wings.

you squinted your eyes as you watched xavier approach a white car. dr. kinbott— wednesday's therapist, she had told you —stepped out as xavier approached. they both spoke briefly outside— you heard xavier talk about a dream in which she died — before entering. you couldn't help but watch, the amount of evidence against xavier making you shake your head to yourself.

"there's no way. it's probably just a therapy session," you mumbled to yourself. but something in your mind told you otherwise, that xavier was the hyde and dr. kinbott was the master.

later that day, you had left wednesday and her uncle to deal with their own matters, opting to visit eugene before staying in the room with thing. for the most part, you spent your time dealing with your emotions the only way you knew how— by avoiding them.

the punch that was thrown at the punching bag made it rock back and forth before it was punched again. your fists were wrapped in bandages as you huffed, feeling the stinging pain with every punch. it was your stress relief from everything that was going on. besides, it was getting you ready for when things truly started to go down.

the looming feeling of doom had been on your mind for the past week. no matter what was happening, there was always a fearful and adrenaline filled part of you that was on alert at least once a day. not because you felt unsafe in your environments, but because you knew something horrible was going to happen. people were going to get hurt and possibly die, and all you could do is prepare for it.

thunder rumbled outside of your window as you finally sat on the bed, taking the towel thing offered you. "thanks." you put it over your shoulders, reaching for your water bottle.

the door flew open as wednesday walked in. she stared at you, hesitating for a second before she said, "tyler asked me out on a nightly outing."

"you mean a date?" you asked, a cheshire grin creeping its way onto your lips.

begrudgingly, wednesday nodded.

you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth. "oh, this is the best thing i've heard all week!" you leaned forward, a wild smile on your face as you motioned for her to continue. thing sat next to you, practically shaking with excitement as they too motioned for her to keep talking.

wednesday could only look on drearily, letting out a long sigh before adding, "though in my opinion, it isn't a date. it's a quid pro quo for almost getting him disemboweled."

"why don't you have a quid pro quo with enid then?" you quipped with a tilt of your head. "you know— for causing her trauma."

"trauma is good for someone like her. especially blunt force."

"right." you sighed, watched as she reached down to pick up a bottle of nailpolish and place it in front of thing. "you need us to guard the diary, then?" you asked, fixing some of your bandages as you stood up again.

"yes. guard it with your life." wednesday grabbed her bag, feeling your eyes watch her as she made her way to the door. "y/n, it isn't a date."

"denial is always the first step," you only hummed in response, making her roll her eyes before leaving. the door shut behind her, making you chuckle amusedly to yourself as you continued to train.

it went on like that for an hour before you went to shower, coming back to your dorm absentmindedly drying your hair. your face fell at the sight of xavier sitting at your bed, watching as thing signed to him.

you cleared your throat, making him stand up quickly in response. "i was just," he shook his head to himself, "nevermind. we just need to talk."

you expected him to kiss you, to push you up against the wall like he had before, to touch you feverishly, but he only looked at you with a worried look on his face. that frown of his was evident in the ambient lighting.

"what's going on?" you asked, watching him move to sit on the edge of your bed.

his right leg moved up and down nervously, the obvious anxiety making you walk closer. xavier's head hung over his lap, his hands fidgeting similarly to how you fidgeted .you didn't touch him, opting to keep your arms crossed over your chest, but you murmured a small, "take your time," that made him take a deep breath in and a slow exhale out.

"i can't sleep with you anymore."

his words hung heavy in the air, increasing the obvious tension. your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, a lopsided smile making its way onto your face. it was your genuine one, one that only few were lucky enough to see, and xavier found himself proud enough to say that he was one of those lucky few. "great!" you said, your words taking him aback as he looked at you.

"you're not mad?"

"gods, no. why would i be mad?" you laughed, the connection already being made in your head. "you did it, didn't you?"

his brows furrowed together at the question. "did what?"

"you told wednesday that you like her!"

there it was again. that weird feeling in your stomach that felt as though the pits of tartarus had opened up and swallowed your intestines whole. you didn't know why you felt it so strongly, or why you were feeling it now of all times, but you covered it with a proud smile as you sat next to xavier.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking at you warily. that single look made your smile falter, the realization of his lack of action making you groan and shove him. "are you kidding?!"

"no?" he said, rubbing the arm you shoved. "it's just—" he sighed as he gathered his thoughts to try and make sense of them. but xavier came up with nothing; it was as though there was a blockage at his throat that stopped him from telling you his emotions. he wasn't used to being so open about his thoughts to anyone— his dad never liked that —so he only kept quiet, ignoring your expecting look.

you nudged him with your shoulder, gently this time. "talk to me about her."

"what?"

"talk to me about how you feel about her."

"no," xavier chuckled, his face burning red as he looked at his lap. "that's embarrassing. you share something then, so that it doesn't feel like i'm talking alone."

you thought for a second before moving your body to lay on his be, making your back lay against the headboard. you patted the spot next to you, ordering a small, "lay down," that made xavier snort in amusement.

"did you really have to change positions just for this conversation?" he asked, nonetheless following your order as he moved to lay next to you. he moved his body to face yours, taking note of the space between the both of you as he propped his head up on his elbow.

you scoffed at the question as though it was the most outlandish thing you had heard. "knowing how dramatic you are, you probably need to be in a more comfortable position in order to talk to me," you said, ignoring his offended glare. you clicked your tongue, pointing a lax finger his way. "i'll tell you about my love life, then you talk to me about how you feel about wednesday."

important information for important information. sacred secret for sacred secret; you didn't know what was running through your head.

his eyebrows raised at that, a teasing smile gracing his face as he looked at you. "is your love life that good?"

you furrowed your brows at that, sending him a questioning look. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing."

you rolled your eyes, waving your hand at him to motion for him to start speaking. but xavier looked at you cautiously, his tongue poking at his cheek. if he knew you fairly well— and contrary to popular belief, he did know enough about you—then he knew that you giving up information like your love life was a trick. it was all a trick, he assumed, because he knew that after he spilled his thoughts out to you, you'd say that you didn't have a love life.

"you go first."

you blinked at him blankly. once. twice. three times, before you sighed in exasperation. "fine," you grumbled, looking ahead of you and avoiding his eyes. you clenched your jaw as you forged your words together and racked your brain for what your love life actually was.

and you came up with nothing but hook ups and a few people you've made out with. you had detached yourself completely from a romantic relationship with others; so much so, that only then did you realize just how lonely you were. how you spent days with purely sexual touches and lustful desires and never anything more. nothing more than a body with another, moving rhythmically to spark a connection that would never exist. always just a body and a body, never a soul and a soul.

"i don't have one."

xavier laughed at that. to him, it was a joke; he could easily see men and women alike falling at your feet for just one chance with you. begging you for you to glance at them once and to love them as well as they would love you. but his laughter was the only one that rang through the room, lacking the presence of yours. he quickly stopped himself when he saw your face burn with embarrassment, the realization hitting him like a truck. "are you serious?"

you swallowed thickly, feeling your flushed face burn as you forced out a, "yes," through your teeth. you let silence save you from speaking for just a few seconds before you spoke again. "never dated. just mindless hookups." a beat. "this was stupid." you swung your legs to the side of the bed, readying yourself to run away from the conversation at hand.

but xavier stopped you. his hand came out to take yours, his palms cold against your burning skin. he could feel your pulse, how it was beating hard and fast out of embarrassment. guilt surged through him when he realized that he laughed at you after you admitted such a thing. but as he ran his hands over your knuckles, he paused to look down at them, the rough exterior making him frown. you had fresh scars all over your knuckles. "what have you been doing?" he asked you worriedly.

"training." you replied simply, pulling your hand away from him warily. you had gone a little overboard with it, you had to admit, but it was how you coped. similarly to how xavier took his emotions out on a canvas, you took yours out on a punching bag.

"you have to be more careful."

"i'm fine," you lied through your teeth. xavier's look was wary as he sighed reluctantly.

he simply didn't expect someone like you to have gone without loving another your entire life, because if he looked at you— really looked at you— he could see so much to love. not only on the surface.

"i just.. expected that someone like you would have a long list of lovers. not hookups," he said with a sigh, "lovers. can you tell me why you don't?"

his skin felt cold against yours. that familiar clash of temperature almost made you want to lean into it. almost, and yet you stopped yourself from doing such a thing.

you stared at him for a second, turning the idea of it around in your mind. you didn't need to be doing this. you had gotten away with not talking about your emotions for so long; you learned the hard way that many people weren't kind enough to listen, that the mere mention of discomfort or sadness you result in violence and yelling. so you kept to yourself.

but he wanted to know. he was looking at you expectedly and waiting for you to talk.

you moved your legs back on the bed, the silence almost too loud as he waited for you to talk. "my sister, brunhilde, used to be in love with this woman. a soldier, she said, way back when," you stared into space as you talked. the only way for you to be vulnerable seemed to be by completely detaching your mind. "but a war happened. and brunhilde saw the glow," your brows began to frown, "the glow tells you when a warrior is about to die in a fight. you can't stop what fate has for them, because you'd be castrated from valhalla. from our father." you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

"so, brunhilde only watched as her lover was killed. she brought her up personally, but when you leave them up there, they're nothing but their souls. their warmth is gone— as is their physical presence, and a valkyrie has no choice but to feel it all. it's happened so many times before," you laughed mirthlessly, "my sisters falling in love just to lose them. just to guide them and feel their loss wholly. it's bad when it's a warrior you don't know, but when it's your lover.. when you can recognize them just by their silhouette alone, just by the touch of their skin, the sound of their laugh.." you looked at him.

he could see the pain hidden behind your eyes, but with the pain came desire for more. a desire for more than what you were left with, for more than just loss and war. "that's a pain i never want to experience. so instead of falling in love, i watch others do it. i live vicariously through them," you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head at your own words. it was all so pathetic. "because i can't experience what they have. so please," you forced a pained smile.

it felt like you were signing your life off. like you were silently shoving yourself away from a decision only you could make, like you were desperately pushing yourself from him because you knew it was for the better. it was all for the better.

"talk to me about her."

xavier stared at you and your misted eyes. your pained expression and the way your hands were fidgeting more than he had ever seen. you looked close to tears, as though they were ready to spill, but you were pleading for him to start talking. to start realizing how much he liked another. "i.. i really like her."

it was for the better.

"i've known her since we were younger, you know," xavier chuckled to himself, "i was like, a few feet shorter and 20 pounds heavier. wednesday saved me from getting cremated after i got stuck in a casket— stop laughing!" he laughed, flicking your arm as you chuckled. "but i liked her a lot after that. how fearless she was, how weird she is, god," he sighed, that lopsided smile of his making its way onto his face. the kind that was downturned into a frown, but still a smile nonetheless.

you liked that smile.

xavier was getting into it now, you could tell; his words were becoming more fluid and passionate. "i think she's so cool. and when she came to nevermore with her entire family.. i couldn't take my eyes off of her."

xavier looked at you as you laid on your side. your hands were under your head as you listened to him talk with undivided attention. your eyes shone under the dim light of your room, silently urging him to continue. but his throat ran dry as he looked at you, suddenly reminiscing that day.

"i couldn't take my eyes off of her," he repeated through the lump in his throat. "but i wanted to be her friend so bad. i'd watch her, you know, not only because of how beautiful she is, but because she has the rarest smile. she the kind that makes your heart literally beat out of your chest. i like how she dresses like she knows exactly who she is. i like that she's so clever that it's almost annoying. y'know—" he situated himself on your bed, "she's so infuriating at times, and it's usually towards me, but i love that fire she has. the kind that never seems to quit." his eyes softened when he saw the moonlight illuminate off of your features, casting beautiful shadows along your face. "and i love that she's so strong. she can handle anyone on her own, but i wish that she'd let me help."

he kept looking at you as he spoke. you thought it was because he was being sincere about wednesday.

"i love that she's so fiercely protective of others. i love that she's so brutally honest, and that no matter how much people tell her to get a filter, she doesn't. i love that she's so carelessly talented. i love that frown she has and how she can easily win an argument. she can be so selfless without realizing it— she worries me so much, you know. but i promised her that i'd be there when she needed me."

xavier had never made such a promise to wednesday.

it felt like a punch to his chest when he realized.

the words slipped so easily out of his mouth that he didn't even comprehend that he had never promised wednesday anything. but he promised you. he promised you that night in the bathroom, that if you ever needed patching up, he would be there. to him, it was an indirect promise.

and you had no idea. for someone who had such a wonderfully intelligent mind, you had no idea, because you wanted him to be with another.

it wasn't a want. to you, it was a need for him to be with another, because then you wouldn't have to push him away. you would be forced to watch him love someone else and you wouldn't have to tell him that you didn't want him when you knew you did.

you knew you did.

but it was for the better— it was all for the better. you couldn't have him, as much as you wanted to be selfish just once.

and as xavier laid in front of you, his eyes wide and his lips parted at the realization he just had, he found himself realizing that he harbored those feelings for you the entire time. that he had been wanting you this whole time; but he didn't know that you wanted him more.

"i didn't know you promised her that," you said with a forceful smile, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes.

and he desperately wanted to say that he didn't, that he never made that promise to wednesday and that the words he said the night in the bathroom was the promise he made to you. he wanted to. so bad, and he almost said it.

but he heard your story. he heard why you couldn't love another and why you avoided the connection of being with someone else. and out of fear, out of the instinct he always had around his father, he kept his emotions to himself and managed a tight lipped smile. "i did," he said, and you could only listen.

xavier had left before wednesday's arrival.

you had only watched him go without so much as a good bye. you had witnessed a lot of things in your life, experienced far more than many have, and yet you deemed this ache in your chest to be one of the worst.

it was the right decision.

you couldn't even look at thing as you walked back to your desk, your mind shutting off the turmoil of emotions as you reached for your bandages. wordlessly, you wrapped your hands, the feeling of someone watching you not deterring you from the escape you needed at that moment. "don't say anything about this to anyone," you muttered, eyes still set on your bandages. as you finished, you stood up, walking to the punching bag again.

thing crawled down at your feet, desperately signing to you. "you know that he may be the hyde right?" to which you shook your head.

"it all seems too easy, thing," you turned to the punching bag, readying your fists. "there's something more going on." you didn't want to say it was your emotions talking or the liking you had grown to have with the boy. you didn't want to, because that was admitting that you getting weak.

after the first few punches, your door handle began to rattle violently. the door shook under the strength of whoever was on the other side, the sudden violence making you grab your dagger from under your pillow. turning to thing, you placed a finger at your lips.

each of your steps were feather light on the floor as you went up to your door. careful not to press your body against it, you held your dagger up at you felt the doorknob rattle one more time before stopping.

a slam hit the door once, the sound of it making thing jump, before the person walked away. impulsively, you pulled the door open and looked down the hallway.

no one.

"we need to stay in the room," you muttered to thing, who nodded as you closed the door yet again. someone was desperately trying to get in to get the diary— that much you knew.

you had told wednesday everything by the time she came back, which was how you found yourself standing stiffly in weems' office alongside wednesday and thornhill. your hands were still very much bandaged, though many of your wounds had reopened and were now bleeding through the bandages.

what a pain.

"whoever was trying to get into our room was trying to get to nathaniel faulkner's diary," you told weems, hiding your hands behind your back. the woman looked at you with anger, your words breaking her polite facade.

"that's supposed to be safely locked in the nightshades library," weems looked between you and wednesday, "did you steal it—"

"so you do know about that diary," wednesday crossed her arms over her chest, "which means that you also know the monster we're after is called a hyde."

the fire crackled between the three of you, the tension rising far too high for weems' liking, as she sent thornhill a fake smile. "thank you, ms. thornhill. i'll take it from here."

thornhill nodded, "of course. if you need anything, i'll be right down the hall." with no more than a confused look, the redhead left, leaving the three of you alone.

weems' smile melted into a slight scowl as she held her hands in front of her. she was looking at you both with a dirty look, one mixed with frustration and anger. but she could only sigh before placing her hand upon her fireplace and looking into the fire. "faulkner spent years studying hydes. he wanted to determine if whether they were just mindless killers or conscious of their actions."

"what was his conclusion?" wednesday asked.

"he was killed by a hyde before he could reach one," weems said sourly, "others tried to carry on his research, but the hydes were too unpredictable and violent." she turned to you, the frown never once faltering as she continued, "they were officially banned from nevermore 30 years ago."

"all of this time you knew," you breathed, your brows coming togehter out of anger. she knew what had killed rowan and all those victims. their family and friends could have had answers ages ago if it were not for her. "you knew, and you said nothing to anyone!" you laughed joylessly, "not the sheriff, not the victims' friends— not even their family."

"if i told them, then nevermore is done. over. shut for good," weems snapped, stepping towards you and wednesday. she towered over the both of you, her anger staining her perfect cover as her scowl deepened. "and that's not happening on my watch. but i'm not the only one witholding— if you two suspect someone, you need to tell me."

"why?" wednesday fired back, taking a menacing step closer to the principal, "all you've ever done is gaslight and obstruct us."

"you don't care how many people die," you added, "as long as your reputation is upheld. seriously, weems," you shook your head to yourself. "do you know how it feels to have someone's soul leave you?"

weems scoffed at your words, which only made you clench your fists tighter. "i am protecting our nevermore family—"

"tell that to rowan. oh wait," you looked up at the ceiling before sending weems a glare.

"which also includes you two, ms. addams and ms. odinsdottir."

the next morning you walked next to wednesday, frustration evident in your tone as you angrily thought about weems. every once in a while you'd turn to wednesday and complain about her, and frankly, you were surprised that she had let you. you guessed it was because she harbored those same thoughts about weems as you did.

"honestly, how much of an inconsiderate, selfish, innate human being can she be.." your voice died in your throat when you saw bianca approach you and wednesday. "bianca," you greeted cautiously, the three of you standing in front of xavier's mural of a raven.

"you both need to come with me," bianca said urgently, her voice softening as she added, "i have information about mayor walker's murderer."

you gave wednesday a look before the both of you began to follow her into the nightshade's library. you walked down the steps, your eyes narrowing at the sight of mayor walker's kid, lucas, standing in the library. for a society that claimed to be elite and made a big deal out of you and wednesday being inside their library, it was surprising to see that they let lucas in so casually.

“you made it rain fake blood,” you stated, having heard most of the rumors. you squinted your eyes at him, “could you not even get animal’s blood instead of paint and water? i mean, how tacky must you be?”

lucas could only laugh nervously, his face burning at your words. “that was partially my bad. but i’m here to help— promise.” he pulled out some papers from his backpack, “i printed these off of my dad’s computer. seems he was trying to track down someone— laurel gates?”

you and wednesday sent each other a pensive look. laurel gates had supposedly drowned overseas; why would he search for her?

“looks like he started right after outreach day.”

“must have recognized her there,” wednesday commented, looking between bianca and lucas. they seemed to be getting along, as bianca seemed a lot more relaxed than usual.

“according to the british police,” lucas continued, handing you the papers. you scanned through them as wednesday peers over your shoulder. “laurel was presumed drowned, but no body was ever recovered.”

you read down the papers, which included some reports from the

“the gates mansion was purchased a year ago by a 90 year old candy heiress,” you read the paper out loud, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the ridiculous lie, “some cover. she then mysteriously died and gave all of her belongings to her caregiver, teresa l. glau.”

“it’s an anagram for laurel gates,” wednesday said in realization, though you could only shrug, obviously unimpressed.

you scoffed. “not a good one.”

“so laurel secretly buys her old house and then comes back to jericho as someone else,” bianca said with a frown, making you nod as you quickly checked the papers for any more information. “why?”

“revenge.” your sudden response made everyone look at you. looking up, your brows frowned as confusion appeared on your face. “it makes sense— she wants revenge on all the people she blames for her family’s hardships. your father,” you looked pointedly at lucas, “the coroner, and wednesday’s parents."

“but nevermore, most of all,” wednesday added with a curt nod.

bianca shook her head as she tried to process the information. “how does the monster fit into all of this?”

“it’s like a psycho and their little rabid chihuahua,” you explained, rolling the papers up for later.

“the monster is a hyde. it’s doing laurel’s bidding. she controls it.” wednesday was already ready to leave, as she quickly fixed her already perfect posture and was ready to turn around.

but lucas stopped her, asking, “you know who laurel is, don’t you?”

kinbott.

wednesday didn’t say anything at that, only turning around quickly. “i’ll go alone,” she told you, “stay with thing and guard the diary.” she gave you faulkner’s diary.

you grabbed her arm, making her look at you. but you were serious as you spoke, ignoring the worry in your chest as you said, “be careful.”

the diary was held tightly in your hand as you returned to your dorm. but almost immediately, you could feel as though something was wrong. it was far too quiet on your corridor, the only sound being your breathing as you quickened your steps. every step of yours was barely audible as you practically ran to your room.

the door was ajar.

you made your sword appear, ignoring the trauma you still held from the last time you materialized it. its weight was comfortably in your hand as you held it tightly. the blade glinted in the light of the corridor; the same blade that had sliced your wings the night of the attack. placing your hand on the door, you pushed it all the way open with your sword in front of you, ready to attack.

only for it to fall to the ground at who stood there.

he often appeared in disguises, but the foundation of his character remained the same. years ago, he had traded one of his eyes to one of the gods, mímir, in exchange for wisdom. it was one of his most noticeable physical characteristics; that, and his overgrown beard, his height, and his occasionally questionable fashion choices. the wide brimmed hat he always wore sat upon his head along with his long robe and embroidered cape. he stood horribly tall for his old age— you liked to joke that his height was the root of his ego. and maybe you were right, because as your father, odin turned towards you, he only gave you a sickeningly condescending smile.

"daughter, you know that my sword will not hurt its own. gunnlogi is loyal," his smile thinned as he looked you up and down. with every move of his eyes was another critical judgement, another derogatory word that would leave his lips in the name of being strong. "and to think you could attack me with him is foolish."

you grabbed your sword up from the ground, dematerializing it as you asked, "what are you doing here?" in such a cold way that it even made the god hum in disapproval, "i haven't seen or spoken to you in 5 years."

the last time you had seen him, he hadn't even said goodbye. he had just pulled you out of the foster care system and had given you an apartment in his name. he expected you to care for yourself; he provided the money and the nanny while you had to do the rest. the raising, the emotional support, the processing of the multiple foster homes you had been in and what you've seen; you did it all on your own. your sisters were the only other people you saw in your home besides your nanny. but your poor nanny had to deal with you even as you were beginning to train more, which only let to more incidents in school.

you hopped from school to school, from private academy to private academy, from boarding school to boarding school, from juvenile detention center to at one point, juvenile prison. moving you around to keep you from trouble was just odin's way of ignoring you. of finding a way to get rid of you.

so to see him stand in your dorm room with his spear in hand— safe to say you didn't want to pretend as though his blatant neglect didn't exist.

"a god's job is very busy—"

you scoffed at that, the sound making odin halt his words. "why are you here?" you repeated through gritted teeth, your already injured fists curling once again.

odin used his free hand to pull out a stack of unopened letters. your face fell at the sight of them; they were the letters that you had been sending to valhalla every night. "those are for my sisters," you growled, eyes watching odin's hand as he slammed the letters down onto the wooden floor of the dorm.

"i do not care whose letters those are meant for, because i received them not them." odin nodded at them as though they were nothing, as though those pieces of paper didn't hold your writing about your troubles, your stresses, and your losses. because in your father's eyes, all were needed to create a well rounded valkyrie. "your sisters were insistent that i visit you," he stretched out an arm, "so here i am."

like a savior to the content unsaved.

"i don't need you here, odin," you snapped.

"and to think, you were the same child who had begged for my help all those years ago," he laughed so gleefully that you almost thought it was a joke. but odin had always been like that; he often played his negative thoughts of you and others into jokes, because to him, that was all they were. people he never deemed worthy of his respect were only jokes. "i have given you everything, child— let me give you one thing more."

odin peered into your eyes— the same eyes he had seen on your mother —and shook his head with a tight lipped smile. he had already scooped out the deepest parts of your troubles and analyzed it all during your talk; it was all too easy for him. it was an outright invasion of privacy, but odin didn't care, as his mind was suddenly full of your thoughts. and to him, it all made sense. he was all knowing, all mighty, and of course, he had solved your life like some riddle from loki himself.

it was like you were a mere mortal asking for his guidance, not his own daughter.

"the monster had always been right in front of you, you know. you have simply been too blind to see it," odin flicked his hand your way, and suddenly what was left of your wings materialized. it ripped through your shirt as they flapped pathetically. there was no strength to them, only desperation. fear.

embarrassment.

"stop," you managed out, face burning in shame as odin tsked, using his spear to poke at you like some lab rat.

"they hold no strength to them."

"maybe because they've been snapped in half."

"perhaps, it is because they belong to you," odin snapped, making you shut your mouth before he continued, "i'm sure you know that they will grow back only when you need them. only time will tell how long it will take. as for your other problem," odin stepped in front of you, towering over your form and making you seem subordinate to him; and maybe you were. "you are fully aware that placing yourself in the position of loving another is foolish."

you couldn't even manage an argument. "i know."

"you have brought this upon yourself," odin said in such a way that almost seemed sincere and condescendingly sympathetic. "your actions have rendered you to nothing more than an angel with clipped wings," a scowl deepened on his old face as he stared into your soul as though you were nothing but a lost ghost in purgatory. as though you meant nothing more than a burden to him.

to say that you had never seen people look at you like that would be a lie, for you could only manage a blank stare.

"you have always disappointed me."

nothing. you gave him nothing in response to his verbal attacks, and that seemed to be enough for him.

it was as though he only visited his daughter in order to gain silence in his life, to quench your ever growing desire to see him as though his physical appearance was all you wanted.

you could only watch as he walked out to your balcony without even a goodbye, disappearing and leaving nothing that signified his existence in the first place. he left you again after speaking for 20 minutes to what he deemed was a brick wall. and to think that he believed that he had given you everything.

"fuck him," you spat out bitterly, pacing the room as you resisted the urge to destroy and burn everything in your path. his sudden appearance left you rethinking almost every prominent stressor that you had; not only because of the subtleness of his clues, but because his advice was correct. odin was always correct.

thing cautiously came out from underneath wednesday's bed, their fingers pitter-pattering on the floor as they walked closer to you. "that was your father?" they signed, obviously intimidated by the sheer power that odin had demonstrated. and that was barely even all of what he could do.

"unfortunately," you said in response, shaking your head to yourself as you continued to pace like a lion in a cage. with a yell, you threw a punch at your punching bag, your strength amplified by your anger and making it swing roughly back and forth. your wings folded back into your back as you pulled your ripped shirt off of you and changed quickly.

how could he appear and disappear so easily like that? as though he wasn't leaving his daughter, but simply a coworker at work.

you couldn't breathe as you paced your room quicker, tears burning your eyes as you became more antsy by the second. it was as though your father had flicked a fire into the gasoline puddle of emotions that had stained your brain, and with that single flick, he created horrible, burning flames that ate at you from the inside out. it was all so unfair, so horribly unfair, and you wanted so desperately to talk to someone.

but you were alone as you always were, pacing a room like an idiot because you had been so adamant to open up to anyone. you were so sure that you were an uncrackable safe, the toughest fortress built by the toughest men, and yet you found yourself constantly at the end of the day searching for the closeness you had lost. the closeness you had pushed towards another.

the closeness you had wanted so desperately. the touch of his skin, his fingertips tracing over your scars, that lopsided smile of his, and the gentleness he held as he sat on the bathroom floor and patched you up in silence. the feeling of him pressing a kiss to your forehead as you laid dying in his arms, the smile he seemed to reserve only for you.

oh, how you longed for the comfort of his silence. of his presence. of him.

he knew. he knew the most about you because you willingly created a hole in your walls that was made specially for him. the words of your past fell easily from your lips when you spoke to him, and because of that, he had knowledge. you dreaded the idea of it, the mere thought making you shake your head to yourself, but you were walking to your door anyway and reaching for the doorknob.

you walked down the corridor as though you were a ghost searching for its mortal lover. the same pathway you had walked so many times before, the path you walked down with nothing more than lust and hungered desire, you now walked with a want for him to just exist along your side. to breathe the same air you did as you exposed your vulnerability to him.

you didn't need to talk to him. but you wanted to so horribly.

sneaker-covered feet came to a halt in front of his door, your hand hesitating before you knocked it. but you pushed yourself over the edge and knocked. once. twice. three times.

"xavier?" like a sick joke, your voice broke, signifying your muddled mess of emotions to the world. no response.

you turned away from the door, making your way to the stairs out of the building.

nervousness surged through your body like a tsunami; not only for what you would find, but you felt as though something was horribly off. as you walked down the dark woods alone with only a cautious dagger in hand, you couldn't help but feel the familiar rise of the hairs on your skin and the feeling of your intestines falling as though you were in a rollercoaster. there was a coagulation of things that felt off, it seemed, because as you opened the door to xavier's studio, you found yourself giving the woods one final look— as though you were searching for the eyes that you felt behind your neck.

the studio was completely dark, lest for the few ounces of moonlight that seeped in through the muddled windows. but it seemed as though that was all you needed as you hesitantly walked in deeper.

something was wrong. something was so wrong.

"xavier?" another hand out, another attempt at a call, only for it to be answered with nothing.

two easels were set up in the corner of his studio, both covered with that familiar paint stained cloth you had seen before. avoiding the eyes of the monsters he had drawn on the wall, you pulled down a string to allow light to flood the room. he wasn't here.

you almost turned and left. you almost just closed the door to the studio and never returned again, accepting that your emotions would simply be held close to your body and never let out to others. but there was a glint of glass on the messy table that signaled you to stop.

every step was carefully calculated as you walked towards the flash of light, your hands reaching out carefully to pull out an item that made you immediately drop them on the table in shock.

eugene's glasses. everyone had assumed that he had simply lost them in the woods after the attack, but they were here. in xavier's studio.

he did it.

hidden behind a jar of paintbrushes, you pulled out various photos of you and wednesday— all taken without your knowledge. hands frantic, you grabbed the jar of paintbrushes and let its contents spill out; along with rowan's inhaler. and as you did that to all the jars, your face paled when you saw a necklace of another victim.

your face fell into one of despair and shock. you were wrong, gods, you were so wrong. wednesday was right the entire time.

horrified, you turned to the covered paintings and briskly walked over, reaching out and pulling the first painting's cover. the face of dr. kinbott, slashed with those familiar claws of his, stared back at you with cloudy and lifeless eyes. you almost didn't want to believe it.

but then you pulled the other blanket.

an image of what you presumed to be xavier's hands, bloody and wet with crimson, touching a pure white feather and allowing the blood to coat almost all of its entirety. his painting skills had improved, because as you peered closer, your hand came up to cover your mouth at the sudden nausea that came over you. there were brown markings on the feather.

it was your feather.

tears blurred your vision as you pushed the painting away harshly, letting it fall to the ground of the studio messily. you pushed both of the paintings down and watched them fall with a clatter.

but as they both fell, your blurry eyes met a covered item that sat propped up on the wall behind them. the cloth was bloodied near the bottom, and you could see dried blood seep into the wood from where the crimson stains began. hand shaking violently, you reached out and pulled the cloth away. your hand muffled your anguished scream as you fell to your knees.

your wings, once mighty and pure white, stood in front of you in a mess of blood and broken bones.

he took them from you. this entire time, it had been him. you showed him your scars from the attack. he comforted you knowing fully well that he had been the one to take your wings from you in the first place.

you told him everything. you gave him a piece of your life that you had never done with another soul, only to realize that he had taken your peace away. your tranquility.

your strength.

one of your wings fell to the ground stiffly. you grabbed it and held it close to your chest like you had lost a child; the white feathers were stained a matted red now. gone was the beauty of what was yours, and as you felt the familiar appendage under your shaking hands, you let out a horrified scream— one the entire woods would surely hear —when you realized that he had plucked your feathers.

he plucked them like you were nothing more than a bird with clipped wings, helpless of saving themself. you rocked back and forth as you sobbed at the cruelty of it all, cursing everything and everyone in your mind at your grief. to you, it was all unfair, because even as you cried for what he had done, sobbed for the pain that he had caused, you wanted oh so desperately to cry to him. to spill your hearts' blood out to him. no one else.

but life was not that simple.

"how could he— how could he—" you cried to yourself, hands running over the lack of feathers on your lifeless wings. it was only skin and bone where feathers once grew, and your body collapsed further as you felt the torn skin under your fingers and the fresh blood that came with it.

he had done it recently. he had done it that day.

the sound of the studio door opening didn't even make you turn around. grief swallowed you whole and spat you out a lifeless being so encompassed in their sadness that it left you with nothing but hopelessness. hopelessness for what you had lost, and hopelessness for what you believed you gained. but there was nothing but empty promises and meaningless lies that were the foundations of your emotions for him. there was nothing, and yet there was everything.

"y/n? oh god, y/n—" his voice came out to you like a sick joke, as though he was actually fully sincere in his words. xavier's horrified expression was unnoticed by you as you sat on the ground, hunched over your stiff wings. your back shook with your heavy breathing and constant lack of air, with your betrayal.

"how could you do this to me?" you asked, voice breaking near the end as you mustered enough courage to look at him. your eyes were lifeless— gone was that fighting spirit of yours, only replaced by loss. they were burned red from your cries, and as you peered at him from behind the comfort of your arm around your mauled wings, you looked like the painting of lucifer. his expression did nothing to deter your influx of growing anger, your hands shaking as they ran down your wings again.

xavier could feel the pit in his stomach swallow his intestines whole. the sight of your bloodied and mangled wings, eugene's glasses on his desk, and from what he saw, an inhaler that belongs to rowan in one of his paint jars— he had never seen them before. he hadn't taken any of them; but you believed that he took them all as trophies.

your wings were nothing more than a trophy.

"i didn't do this, y/n, please," xavier pleaded, dread encompassing his body as he walked closer to you.

your wings fell from your hands and hit the floor with a sickly thump. you walked towards him and shoved him in anger. "i told you everything." you shoved him again, tears flowing form your cheeks as you continued to push him, to make that hyde of his come out and finish the job, for his hyde to put up a fight against you so that you could kill him easier. "i let you see the scars." another shove. "i let you see me heal." another shove. "i let you see me. all of me! and you," your lip quivered as you finally looked at him in the eyes. those green eyes that you once considered so beautiful. "you did this to me."

he took every shove from you. every push, every strong movement that was forced towards him, xavier took it from you. "i didn't do it. please, you have to believe me." tears fell from his eyes as he tried to plead with you, as he tried to make you stop and realize that he hadn't done anything— he wouldn't do anything to hurt you.

"how could i?" you cried, your shoves coming to a stop as you pointed to every piece of incriminating evidence in the room. "eugene's glasses? my wings? these fucking paintings? how could you do this to everyone?" you used two hands to shove him in desperation, anger being the only source of energy in your body.

"y/n, i didn't— listen to me, i didn't do it!" he grabbed your arms as he looked into your eyes. you looked destroyed, your heart beating rapidly out of how furious you were, but most of all, you looked exhausted. you looked so fucking tired. "i'd never hurt eugene or rowan or anyone," he breathed shakily, "especially you. god, y/n i could never hurt you."

"i told you about my mom," you could help but whimper, his face falling at your words. you told him about the piece of you that you burned away and kept from your memories. "i told you about how she didn't want me. and you snapped my wings in half." you took in his face; how his jaw clenched in frustration, how his eyes produced a continuous influx of tears, how he was looking into your eyes and desperately trying to find a hint of belief for his own words.

nothing. just like how you gave your father nothing out of anger, you gave him nothing out of hatred.

it happened so quick.

you reached down to the dagger that was holstered to your thigh, unsheathing it and pressing it gently into the middle of his chest. it was only enough for it to catch onto skin and bleed, but you held it there. you had the strength of a valkyrie, the power of a hundred soldiers, and yet you refused to press it in further. you refused to push that blade fully through him because you loved him so much that it stopped you, but you hated him even more that you wanted him to feel at least a sliver of the pain he had caused you.

and xavier could only watch, hand coming up to hold onto the hand that held the handle. he swallowed thickly, the pain not unbearable as it was as though it was a simple cut. but the blade was still pressed against his chest, not fully going through. not going in enough to actually cause damage. just pain. but he held it there tightly, his hand curled over yours as he cried silently, simply letting the tears fall from his face.

"your pain is my pain," he said, and he meant it.

but to you, it was another empty promise. a worthless thought.

"i hate you," you seethed, "i wish i never have met you." and you meant every word.

the sound of the door flying open made you turn your head to the intruder. you were looking down the barrel of sheriff galpin's gun, his shouting orders of, 'drop your weapon!' making your dagger clatter to the ground. you dropped to your knees, still staring down the gun as sheriff galpin saw the crime scene; eugene's bloodied glasses, rowan's inhaler, the photos, the thrown paintings, and most of all, your wings. a valkyrie's wings were certainly a sight to see, as it stood tall and mighty, its color unlike anyone had ever seen. but the sheriff only saw the bone sticking out of one of them, the mangled, nauseating mess of bones, skin, and feathers enough to make anyone throw up.

your hands were held behind your head as you watched xavier's wrists be cuffed behind his head. sadistically, you watched his every move, never responding to his pleas that he didn't do it. your mind was held tightly by grief's claws, rendering you only a sadist in his game. the sheriff's words of xavier's rights were only jarbled messes of sounds as you stared, unblinking into xavier's frantic eyes. a deep red began to seep from the small puncture you had made in the middle of his chest— it was insignificant now.

he did this to you.

"someone planted that stuff! y/n, please," xavier begged, his eyes landing on the figure standing at the door way. his face contorted into one of anger as he tried to lash out towards wednesday, who only watched in pride as xavier fought against his restraints. "you! you framed me!" he yelled, "i'm being set up!" he was pulled away from you, practically snarling at wednesday as he passed, seething, "i should've let rowan kill you."

and you— you only watched without another word. but madness radiated off of you in waves, the want to burn everything to the ground and hurt another strong in your mind. but you sat on your knees in the cold pool of blood around the wings, your knees stained red with the crimson. your skin marked with the wounds of betrayal.

#AUTHORSNOTE— i literally cried while writing this chapter. thank you guys sm for the support and for reading so avidly, happy holidays!

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