Too Sharp To Touch Pt.2

Too Sharp to Touch pt.2

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Summary: After your fight last week you've been sentenced to community service in Jericho, and you take a break at the Weathervane for some peace and quiet

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“This stinks,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled a discarded paper cup from the sidewalk and placed it into your bag. 

After your so called ‘dogfight’ a week before, you’d been sentenced by Weems to go out and do some community service in Jericho. On a Saturday. So unfair. So while you could’ve been drawing with Xavier and Eugene in the shed, instead you were stuck outside in the unusually hot September sun, picking up bits of trash, surrounded by normies, a few of those who’d give you dirty looks as they passed.

It wasn’t the act of simply cleaning up discarded trash and whatnot that bothered you; it was the fact that it was boring, hot, and unfair. Since when did a little fight deserve this cruel of a punishment? And on a Saturday? That was just cruel. 

Grunting slightly, you moved your trash bag over to your right shoulder, kneeling slightly to grab a broken plastic spoon from a crack in the sidewalk. This punishment was stupid; there was barely any trash anyway. You’d been out here for nearly an hour and a half and yet your bag was barely half-full; was Weems just trying to make you suffer? Deep down you knew of course she wasn’t, but still. It felt good to complain about something while you were forced to endure this.

Your muscles still felt uncomfortably tight from your fight. Sure, you had given the other guy a pretty good whooping but even you couldn’t deny that he had beat the shit out of you; your bruise lingered on your cheekbone and jaw, and every time you moved too sharply your side ached. You could definitely go for a nice cool shower right now, but no. Today was not a good day. 

Maybe Wednesday was right though. You weren’t the best at fighting, especially for a werewolf, which was pretty odd even to you. Sure, you could throw a decent punch, but couldn’t anyone? You wouldn’t admit it to her but you wished you were as good at fighting as Wednesday was.

Every time you thought of that fight you remembered the feeling of her eyes on you, examining you, thoughts and focus only on you.

It made that little bit of fur on the back of your neck rise and tingle, embarrassingly enough. 

You were walking by Uriah’s Heap when you heard the bell at the door signaling someone exiting the shop, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder to see a young-aged man in a plaid button up with a gun slung over his shoulder exit the store. Eyebrows furling in slight disgust, you started to move on, trying to hustle away from him, but you weren’t fast enough and felt a hand clamp on your shoulder, followed by his voice

“Hey, you’re that Lyall kid, right?”

Eyes rolling with a little bit of disgust, without even looking behind you, you muttered, “you’ve got the wrong person,” stepping forward and away, but the man hurried to catch up beside you.

“No, no, I’ve seen you before, I swear.” The man’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Aren’t you some kinda wolf freak?”

You started walking faster, getting irritated; you needed to control yourself or you were going to get into another fight and get punished even worse.

“I’m not supposed to be talking to people right now, okay?”

Completely ignoring what you had just said, the man walked alongside you, tone prodding you for information.

“You know, I’ve heard some pretty wild shit about you,” he grinned, showing a single gold tooth replacing one of his canines. “Aren’t you rolled up in that weird-ass school, Nevermore?”

Not wanting to seem rude, you just stared straight ahead as you walked, muttering, “yes.”

The man smiled, seeming pleased to get some sort of information out of you. “So what are you doing all the way in Vermont instead of in New Hampshire? With your daddy?”

“This school fits me better,” you responded stiffly, rolling your eyes again.

“What, because you’re a freak?”

Clearly this man was just trying to provoke you. And, annoyingly, it was working. You could feel that familiar bubble in your chest that made you want to get mad. Punch someone. Especially him. Yet, you knew that if Weems heard about you beating up a normie in town, your punishment would surely be so much worse.The man continued to pester you as you passed the antique shop, your eyes flickering to the gun strapped over his neck as you muttered, ready to be out of this conversation, “look, I gotta go.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned sharply and crossed the street, garbage bag thumping repeatedly against your back. Skirting around a parked car, you paused on the sidewalk, looking over at the man on the other side of the road, wondering if he was planning on following you. Relief flooded you and your stiff posture disappeared as you watched the man turn the corner and disappear.

Still a little on edge, you noticed that now you were right in front of the Weathervane. Hesitating, you debated your options. It was hot, you’d already been out there for a while, and you had to admit that what little trash there had been around town was now safely tucked in your bag. Surely you deserved a break at least? 

You let out a long exhale of relief as you entered the shop, the air conditioning soothing your sore muscles from bending over all morning. The smell of coffee grounds was particularly strong and you felt yourself untense further as your fear started to melt. You headed for the counter, and then stopped short, immediately recognizing a familiar goth seated in one of the booths in the corner, eyes focused on a book in her hand as her mug sat beside her, seemingly untouched.

It took you a moment to pull your eyes away from Wednesday before you walked over to the counter, ordering yourself a hot chocolate as you let your bag drop to the floor. Pulling off your tight latex gloves, those of which you shoved in your pocket, you paid for your hot chocolate, thanking the kid working there, and headed straight for the table in the back.

When you approached her, you watched as Wednesday’s eyes didn’t move from what she was working on as she spoke. “Done already?”

“I should be,” you huffed, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “It’s too damn hot.”

The raven raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes. “So you’re not done.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “I’ve been working for like three hours; it’s a cruel punishment.”

“Lucky you,” she muttered, turning back to her work as she spoke, writing a little bit more. Without asking, you slid into the booth opposite her, not noticing her turn on the page faltering slightly as you did so, adjusting yourself comfortably as you placed your hot chocolate down.

Not feeling much of a need to say anything, you just stayed silent, laying against the cool cushioned padding of the booth and taking a well deserved break, the sound of customers murmuring, coffee cups clinking, and the turning of pages doing well to add to the comfortable atmosphere.

You two both sat there in silence; Wednesday never once speaking as she worked, you relaxing with your eyes half closed, not noticing the raven’s eyes flicking up to observe you every now and then. 

It was the most peace you had gotten the whole week and it felt good.

And you couldn’t deny that you were maybe watching Wednesday too. You weren’t being creepy at all, but you were just always drawn to those dark brown eyes, always filled with focus and concentration, and the sea of freckles dotting her cheeks. The way she read every single line as if she truly wanted to understand it; how she took notes every now and then, muttering under her breath as she did so. Hadn’t you ever called her pretty before? Because she definitely was.

The silence lulled on until it was broken by the ringing of the bell to the entrance of the shop, you turning your head to see Enid followed by Yoko enter; as the blonde spotted you and Wednesday, immediately that stupid grin came over her face; the one that you knew too well; she was up to something.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, returning to drinking peacefully and reluctantly realizing that this peace wasn’t going to last as long as you hoped.

You heard the sound of Enid skipping over to where you and Wednesday were sitting as Yoko approached the counter, with a cheerful “hiya, Willa! Didn’t know that when you left this morning you were going out for coffee with Y/N?” The blonde waggled her eyebrows suggestively, a smirk on her face as she looked between you two. Oh, she was so dead.

You had to bite down a smirk of your own as you saw Wednesday stiffen even more than she usually was, slowly looking up from her book to glare at Enid. Oh, if looks could kill the blonde would be six feet under right now, although both you and Enid knew that she’d never follow through on any threats she might make. 

“I’m merely reading. I had no intention on Y/N being here, nor is this any form of…” - the raven paused, her eyes scrunching up slightly in disdain as she refused to say the word - “affectionate interaction. Y/N was fulfilling her assigned punishment and happened to interrupt me.”

This time you actually smirked when you saw Enid’s smug smile disappear and you stuck your tongue out at her, though that promptly resulted in you catching an elbow thrown into your side, you letting out an ‘oof’, and doubling over as Wednesday smirked slightly.

“You’re skimping out on your service?” Enid asked, tilting her head slightly in exasperation. “If Weems catches you…”

You cut her off, “even if she does find out, she’s got a soft spot for me. At the least I’ll get a detention. Simple.”

You heard Wednesday scoff softly, though she stayed silent otherwise.

Yoko shortly returned, with two drinks in hand, giving one to Enid. You watched as through her shades the vampire’s eyes studied both you and Wednesday, a tiny smirk appearing on her face, eyebrow raising slightly as she glanced between you two. Nodding once at the raven, who didn’t respond, as well as you, she gave Enid a little nudge on the shoulder. “Come on, E, let’s give ‘em some space.”

You watched as Enid gave you and Wednesday a wave goodbye, the latter of which met both Yoko and Enid with a glare that could’ve easily frightened any grown man. Both Enid and Yoko exited, leaving you and Wednesday alone.

“Idiots”, she muttered under her breath, eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance. You chuckled softly and leaned back in the booth, resuming your own little trance of being comfortably aware of everything around you, your sensitive hearing picking up every single noise. The clinking of coffee cups. The sound of the machine whirring and hissing every now and then. The turning of pages. Soft murmurs of conversation. 

It almost made you forget about the conversation you’d had earlier with that man.

It was after another good thirty minutes that you glanced down at your phone as it pinged, receiving a text from Weems notifying you that she would be picking you up in estimately thirty minutes.

Which meant that you had to leave. 

Damnit.

Sliding out of the booth, you glanced at your phone and then at the door, sighing with disappointment as you grabbed your hot chocolate and downed the rest of it easily. You noticed how Wednesday’s eyes briefly flicked up to you as you started pulling your gloves on. “Going to complete your procrastinated duties?”

You nodded grimly with a small sigh, “I’m sure as hell not getting another detention this week.”

She hummed ever so softly, eyes falling back to her paper as she deadpanned, “if your behavior isn’t corrected than you surely will be.”

You didn’t even hesitate to give her a small kick to the shin, which was met with a harder one to yours in response, you groaning “don’t be a dick.”

Finishing with pulling your gloves on, you rubbed your sore shin with a grimace, shooting her a dirty look, though you had to look away to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes at her smirk. You walked backwards with your bag, sticking your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her own eyes in response and return to her book as you exited the cafe, a grin on your face and the heat of the sun on your back not as prominent in your mind as it was before.

In your mind, you could still hear her turning the pages

—————

pt.3 here!

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

My lovely main series of Werewolf Reader x Wednesday - involves the connection between the two whilst trying to not only uncover but overcome. <3

Division One

pt.1

pt.2

pt.3

pt.4

pt.5

pt.6

pt.7

pt.8

pt.9

pt.10

pt.11

pt.12

Too Sharp to Touch pt.3

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: slight language, descriptions of blood and blood usage

Summary: you decide to ask Wednesday to teach you to fight, only to discover she has a different plan in mind

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“Teach me to fight.”

That’s what you were going to say. Simple. How hard could it be? Surely, Wednesday wouldn’t say no, right?

You had got out of your werewolf anatomy class early, dismissed with a homework assignment that you could work on later, but now your main focus was on working up the courage to ask Wednesday to teach you how to fight.

She had a soft spot for you. You were almost positive you weren’t making that up. Surely the fact that she threatened your bodily harm slightly less than others at Nevermore, or in general, was a good thing, right? And besides, she had helped you out after your fight. That has to mean something. And no, of course you weren’t looking for a reason to get into a fight just because you knew she’d be there, but… hey, it was a perk. 

It still made that little patch of fur on the back of your neck prickle just thinking about those eyes of hers.

Enid had deliberately said to you that all you had to do was ask. No tiptoeing about it, just ask her.

"Come on, Y/N, it's not that hard. She's not going to bite." "Hopefully," you responded dryly, swinging your heels as you sat on her bed. "I just don't want to have to go back to fighting instructors, they suck ass."

"Well, you'll probably have to you don't ask," Enid said with a small smile. "She likes you, Y/N. Just go for it."

Those words had been banging through your head for the past three goddamn days.

Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Worst case scenario you’d just have to get a werewolf fighting instructor instead… oh god, that would be embarrassing. Most werewolves were naturally good at fighting. Why couldn’t you be the same? It was definitely frustrating, to say the least.

You continued to pace the halls, brainstorming. Wednesday was at her Hummers meeting, but it wouldn’t be long before it was over. You had a little bit of time. Why were you even stressing it out this much? You were a werewolf! It’d be a piece of cake! Besides, Wednesday was only human, after all. Or maybe not; you weren’t entirely sure what the Addams’ were.

Perhaps you could get her something. Maybe some flowers and chocolate? To convince her to help you out? Well, you didn’t have enough time to run into town and get some chocolates, but the flowers you could definitely do.

You got up, scrambling down the hallway and hurrying down the stairs, ignoring the calls from an occasional teacher to slow down, headed for the greenhouse.

You arrived just as class emptied out, luckily, and you fought your way - literally fought; you caught more than a few elbows in your side - through the crowd of purple uniforms. Stopping by the door, you quickly checked to make sure everyone had exited before slipping inside.

You were welcomed by the cool temperature of the greenhouse, accompanied by the soft humming of the electricity, but you didn’t stop long, examining the different plants arranged around. Surely nobody would mind if you took a couple flowers? You peered at the different arrangement of flowers before your eyes caught on a lovely black dahlia, recognizing its spiky petals and dark hues to be the flower you wanted. Carefully pulling two or three from the planter, you held them carefully, exiting the greenhouse and closing the door carefully behind you as you hid the plant in the pocket of your blazer.

You hesitated briefly at the door to Wednesday and Enid’s dorm room, still catching your breath from your sprint. You could hear movement inside and you knew it wasn’t Enid; the blonde was busy working on an art project with Divina and Yoko today. You held your breath briefly before knocking your typical three knocks on the door before entering.

Quiet music came from the gramophone in the corner, signaling to you that your assumptions were correct. You turned your head to see Wednesday exiting her closet, dressed in her black and white checkered jumper with a jacket thrown over it. 

“Y/N.” She paused, the slightest hint of suspicion in her eyes when she spotted you. “What do you want?” The raven didn’t comment on the fact that you had entered the dorm without permission and you noticed. 

Now on the spot under Wednesday’s stare, you took a deep breath, forcing your hesitation down as you pulled out the black dahlia’s from behind your back, noticing too late that they were slightly crumpled; you had to bite back a frustrated huff at the sight of them. You knew you shouldn’t have put them in your blazer pocket.

“I was wondering if you’d teach me how to fight?” Silence.

More silence.

Too much damn silence.

You looked at her, feeling embarrassed about asking her like this. Her eyes slowly gazed from the flowers up to you as you stammered, “y’know, because I’m not the best at fighting, and well, you are, and I thought it could work out.” You forced yourself to stop talking before you could make yourself sound any more stupid than you already did. You were probably messing this up.

Wednesday seemed to examine you for a moment, eyes slowly moving to the flowers before back to you, staying silent for a moment longer before taking the flowers from you, depositing them on her desk. Before you could ask what she was doing, the raven turned and knelt by her bed, pulling out a semi-transparent jug filled with what appeared to be…blood? Confused, you didn’t have time to respond as Wednesday approached you, dumping the jug into your hands as she spoke.

“If you wish for me to instruct you, then you may first assist me, wolf.”

You looked down at the jug in your hands and then back at her, cocking your head slightly.

 “Is this real blood?” She ignored your question, placing a notebook inside of her bag as well as what appeared to be a sponge and some other materials.

 “I wish to begin implementing more realistic depictions into my novel. All you will need to do is act the part of a corpse for a bloodstain pattern analysis.”

“A corpse?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise and skepticism. The raven nodded, slinging her bag neatly over her shoulders.

“Correct” - she fixed you with that familiar glare you knew so well, already heading for the door. “And then I shall uphold my end of the deal.”

You hurried after her with the jug; despite it’s heaviness you carried it without a problem. “Where are you planning on doing this?”

“The woods,” came the reply. Once again you had to quicken your pace to catch up with her. How could a person so short move so damn fast? 

“So, is this real blood?” You repeated your question again; you didn’t have an issue with blood - after all you were a werewolf - but even you had to admit that if Wednesday so casually had a large jug full of real blood in her dorm it was a little concerning. The scent of it was a little different than human blood; your sensitive nose picked up a slight taint to it.

“Does it really matter?” She responded with a slight roll of her eyes. “It’s pig’s blood.”

You fell into a quiet silence as the two of you walked over the uneven terrain, the hushed silence of the woods engulfing the two of you as you entered. It was calming.

“So I’m going to be a corpse?” You said to fill the silence.

Wednesday nodded, adjusting the bag around her shoulder as she walked. “Indeed. I’ve played the role numerous times for my own amusement in the Addams Mansion. Consider yourself fortunate I’m even letting you in on the act.” With a sigh, you followed her as she led the way, the jug making swishing noises as the thick blood sloshed around inside. 

“And how long will this take?” 

“If your performance suffices, then not long.”  - Wednesday slowed her pace slightly, her gaze fixed on the woods - “we’ll find a suitable clearing where I can conduct the analysis. You’ll lie down, I’ll do my work, and then afterward you’re free to do as you please.” The raven eyed your clothing for a moment. “I assume you won’t mind dirtying your clothes.”

“Of course not,” you muttered sarcastically. “We werewolves love bloodied clothing.”

“Yes, because impeccably clean clothing is such a priority in the middle of the woods,” Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes in response. 

Eventually she seemed to reach the spot she wanted, a gloomy clearing shrouded in shadows. It fit the vibe - or Wednesday’s vibe at least - the shadows encompassed most of the main clearing and the sounds of the Academy were too faint for even your heightened hearing to pick up on.You looked at Wednesday for instruction and she merely gestured for you to lay down on the forest floor. You set the jug down and awkwardly arranged yourself over the ground, wincing and plucking out a few uncomfortable rocks under your spine.

Once you had gotten comfortable enough to be in the position for a good amount of time, you watched as Wednesday set down her bag on a log, retrieving her materials and standing there for a moment as she examined you, dark eyes roaming over your body. Was she scanning you for imperfections? Observing you to give you some tips on how to act more corpse-like? Or was it something else entirely?

You started to speak before you were cut off by the raven kneeling down at your side, bringing the sponge, an already slightly bloodied handkerchief, and the jug of blood over to begin. You didn’t flinch once as she began to carefully and precisely dab the blood onto specific spots of your clothing or skin.

You held as still as you can manage, save your baited breath as Wednesday delicately smeared a nice glob of thick blood over your neck, pausing only when she saw your muscles tense slightly. Her brows furrowed just barely as her hand hovered right above your neck, not moving.

Now, Wednesday Addams was certainly not a person who blushed; in fact you seriously doubted that she even had the capability to blush; you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. Instead you watched as her nose scrunched just the slightest bit, the freckled skin over her nose darkening faintly, eyes flickering to yours once as she muttered, “don’t move.”

You forced your muscles to relax, watching as she smeared another good portion of blood on the side of your neck, feeling the cold thick liquid slowly running down your collarbone as she hesitated yet again, seeming to get stuck watching the blood on your neck before continuing, acting as if it never happened, arranging the blood in a pattern that appeared to be extremely specific to what she required.

Once done she prepared her notebook and began writing, pencil moving at impressive speeds with expert precision as she occasionally glanced back at you for reference, muttering once in a while under her breath, eyebrows furling in concentration as she recorded her observations before she repeated the process all over again.

When you were receiving a nice bloodstain on your lower calf you felt a raindrop on your nose as the sky darkened further, a low rumble of thunder making itself heard throughout the woods. You glanced at the sky and felt your body tighten a little at another soft echo of thunder throughout the woods; you never liked storms but you definitely weren’t going to seem like a coward in front of Wednesday. Especially not now. So you bit your tongue, laid your head back against the moss and let her work, trying to ignore the precise, somewhat gentle touches accompanied by the sound of pencil on paper.

You found the whole situation odd yet fitting.

After a bit longer, Wednesday sighed and stood, taking down a last few notes before starting to pack up her bag, replacing her materials neatly.

“You may get up now.”

With relief you sat up, looking down at the new bloodstains on your leg and neck. You reached down to try and wipe it but it stained. You huffed slightly, realizing you were going to need a good shower when you returned. Your clothes could use a good wash too if you managed to wash the scent of pig blood out of them.

You sat up, brushing the loose dirt and forest debris off your shirt and pants, stretching your aching joints; somehow some tiny rocks had managed to find you spine nonetheless.

“Meet me in the fencing hall tomorrow night,” Wednesday stared at you for a moment, not bothering to thank you as she abruptly turned and started walking again.

You hurried after her, catching up easily as you were used to the forest terrain; when you caught up you huffed, “no thank you for my service?”

“I will display my regard for your work by improving your fighting skills instead of supplying you with empty compliments,” the raven looked up at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

You couldn’t resist a little roll of your eyes but you nodded. You never acknowledged the fact that you both knew she wouldn’t actually refuse to teach you how to fight. 

Or so you hoped.

As the two of you walked, a faint rumble echoed through the sky as a soft downpour began to rinse the forest. You felt the sprinkle wash away some of the lesser dried blood and you instinctively shook out your neck and hair a little bit, not a fan of wet hair or fur.

You continued walking, suddenly aware of Wednesday’s eyes on you once more. Observing you. Not with that same interest that she did when she was working. To you it appeared more inquisitive… slightly curious. Like you were a puzzle she was determined to solve. You pretended not to notice.

But you did. 

—————

pt.4 here!

You're right, Wednesday would never accept it right away, but perhaps she doesn't know. She could only see R as Enid or Eugene's friend who occasionally interacts with her. The reader could be a fellow hummer or fencer

So… I don’t know a ton about how werewolf stuff works… do they have a predetermined mate or do their instincts hone one out? Basically my #1 worry w this fic is that it ends up similar to one of those cringy alpha x omega werewolf fics on Wattpad 🤢

I’m cackling at this gif I just made

Too Sharp to Touch pt.7

Word Count: 4.2k (I gotcha covered besties)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of guns, vomit, violence

Summary: After a long week of back and forth between you and Wednesday you have to go into the woods in search of your hidden textbooks.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

When you sat down at the dining hall for breakfast the first thing that happened before you even got to take a bite of your cereal was that what appeared to be a freshly-sharpened dagger was thrown with deadly accuracy straight at your shoulder. 

Of course, you were able to dodge it; you were a werewolf - you basically had spidey senses thanks to your heightened hearing and sense of awareness but you still practically jumped out of your seat as you did so, your eyes landing on the hunk of metal now embedded in the wooden support behind you. When you glanced at the exit to the dining hall for the culprit you saw nobody there. Though you knew exactly who it was.

Your week had been a living hell. Wednesday knew. Of course she had found out. You knew your acting had been shit. And you had been an idiot to think you weren’t going to pay.

You had started out your lovely morning the day before, awaking to a hissing sound in your dorm room. It was subtle, and definitely not something you noticed at first. You had sat up in your tangle of blankets and looked around with groggy eyes, checking your watch and looking out your window to try and estimate the time, trying to figure out what had woken you in the first place. You’d slid out of your bed, and that’s when you heard a sickening rattling sound from right under the bedframe, knowing enough from your time in the woods exactly what it was. 

You had performed what you personally thought to be a ninja skill level dodge, twisting on your heel in that new move Wednesday had shown you during lessons the other day, jumping out of the way and over onto the other side of the creature, grabbing the rattlesnake firmly behind the head while it thrashed about, hissing furiously and snapping at air. You had planned on disposing of it outside in the woods where it belonged but when it almost bit one of your fingers off you simply cracked it in half with a huff. 

Rumor was the teachers were horrified to discover a dead snake in the trash cans.

You knew who it was the second you had seen the snake anyways. It wasn’t like you had left your window open and a rattlesnake so happened to somehow slither up a two story building to slip inside, half a mile away from where most snakes inhabited the woods. 

No, you knew better than to think that.

And sure, you knew that you deserved this but you were never one to pass by some competition. 

You had gone to YouTube on a search for some things, and after a painfully long day of watching multiple tutorials, with the help of a newly vengeful Thing (still mad over being falsely accused), you managed to not only replace Wednesday’s cello strings with guitar strings but you also managed to un-tune it, screwing the knobs not to the point of breaking, just enough to annoy the Addams. Thing had reported detail by detail that night his dramatic recollection of Wednesday’s annoyance and slight confusion when she picked up her bow to play the cello and was met with the realization that not only was her instrument untuned but somehow replaced with the wrong kind of strings.

You knew it was suicidal but you loved it. 

After classes that same day you had headed back to your dorm to finish up a paper for tomorrow but when you sat down at your desk to start working, upon pulling open your drawer for your school supplies, not a single piece of paper or notebook was to be found. And instead, all that you saw were dog toys. The drawer was packed top to bottom with squeaky toys, tennis balls, and rawhide bones. You had been in surprise for a moment and honestly you thought it was a little funny, not really that offended. You’d been able to get rid of most of the toys, (you gave them to a thrifter in Jericho later on), but you did end up keeping one of them for yourself, though you didn’t tell anyone about it.

Your retaliation in response to the dog toy stunt was to put creamer in her coffee when you were sitting beside Wednesday at the study group, waiting giddily for the raven’s return from the shelves of the library. The goth had returned a few minutes later and sat down beside you at the desk, returning to her work. You had to wait a couple minutes before you saw her glance at her coffee to take a sip, and the look of disgust from the now sweet taste of what once was such a bitter coffee was quite enjoyable to you. Maybe you were a bit of a sadist, but you still had to pinch your inner thigh to keep yourself from giggling at the sight of the raven’s glare slowly shifting over to you. The rest of the group, if they’d noticed, would surely be confused but both you and the Addams knew exactly what was going on.

It honestly wasn’t too bad of a week now that you thought about it. Sure, you had to be on alert constantly but that was what your relationship with Wednesday typically consisted of. Just with a slight bit more murderous intent. Which, honestly, you didn’t mind. It felt good to be enjoying yourself, even if what you did consider ‘revenge’ was a little watered down compared to what Wednesday did. The only real time you had been in serious danger was yesterday.

You had been in botany class, doodling on your notes as you half-listened to the teacher, when you’d spotted a granola bar left discarded in the section under your desk, much to your relief. You hadn’t eaten much that day so it was a pretty damn lucky coincidence. You were completely unaware when Wednesday watched you eat the granola bar, eyes trained on your every move.

You’d been awake all night that night throwing up. Although the goth didn’t actually make an appearance that night you knew that Wednesday had tampered with the sealed granola bar you’d eaten, although when Thing arrived in your dorm with a bottle of water for you and some lame excuse that ‘it was his idea’, you had felt a little bit better. You had sent the hand back with a couple spare inks you had laying around as a thank you. That night overall had been somewhat of a trainwreck though. Only Wednesday Addams of all people could somehow tamper with a sealed granola bar. It was still puzzling to you how in the hell she’d managed to do that.

Not many students knew about the ongoing ‘war’, so you called it. It was a loose term and you didn’t take it very seriously. Enid and Thing knew, of course, and they just stepped back and let you two do whatever it was you were doing. As for the others…well…it was also funny to see their reactions. For example, when you were playing the game Mousetrap with Ajax, Bianca, and Divina in the quad the other weekend. It was your turn, and you’d accidentally set off the trap. Much to the others surprise the traps that’d been set up throughout the game were rigged, and when you turned the crank a small blade shot out from one of the plastic pieces, taking out a small chunk of flesh from your finger. It wasn’t deep but it still stung like a bitch and you had to go bandage your hand before you even considered playing the game again. A small compensation, though, was the look of horror and shock on the others’ face when the whole ordeal had occurred. Oddly enough that night you’d found a small tube of some sort of mystery cream on your bed, which, when smeared on your wound instantly took the pain away. You had no clue what was in it or where it’d come from.

So, today, you had to go and find where in the hell the vengeful Addams had put your school stuff. Although you had gotten all of those dog toys out of you way after a quick search of your dorm your textbooks were nowhere to be found, which, admittedly was a problem. Sure, you didn’t like to do schoolwork but it wasn’t like you didn’t need to do it. You were already late on a couple assignments so if you didn’t get your ass in gear you were going to be in trouble. You’d already looked in all the places you’d thought of but had come up dry, and you had no clues or context as to where they could be so you gave up and decided to just go to Wednesday and ask.

You knew that since it was early morning the Addams was awake. You had time before class to talk. Especially since you had just had a dagger practically thrown at your face. Well…your shoulder. Odd, considering you knew that a dagger in the shoulder definitely wouldn’t be a fatal wound. 

After yanking said dagger from the plank of wood it was embedded in, you carefully held it so you wouldn’t accidentally stab yourself as you walked quickly out of the dining hall, cereal left behind and uneaten. The hallways weren’t as crowded as usual due to the early morning so it wasn’t hard for you to manuever through them, headed for where you knew Wednesday was. The Addams always sat every morning in the quad with a cup of bitter coffee, either writing in one of her notebooks or reading. And when you entered the almost gray area when you eyes fell upon the familiar spot, there she was. 

The raven was seated stiffly on one of the benches by the wall, a book in hand and a cup of coffee at her side, still steaming and clearly fresh. She hadn’t been here long. And the second you stepped into the quad you didn’t miss her glance over in your direction. You had to stop yourself from starting to long as you shook your head and approached the goth, your eyes narrowed, huffing with frustration as you halted directly in front of her. Frustratingly enough, she didn’t make eye contact with you, purposefully ignoring you as she slowly and delicately turned a page in her book.

“Tell me where they are.”

“What a warm welcome,” Wednesday quipped with a raise of her eyebrow as her dark eyes never strayed from the pages. “It’s quite early for you to be awake. I expected worse of you.”

“Cut the shit and tell me where my books are, Addams.” You tapped your foot impatiently, silently debating whether or not to push her book away. “I don’t have all day.”

“Oh really?” Wednesday turned another page, perfectly manicured black nails lingering for a painfully long amount of time. “I assumed that you had an interest in playing games, Y/N. And though you might be somewhat adequate at playing your trivial…amusements on others, I, on the contrary, can assure you that you are inferior when it comes to being the subject of my dissatisfaction.” A hint of a smirk passed over her deadpan expression as she tilted her head slightly to finally look up at you. “Besides, I assumed you would appreciate my…tokens of appreciation towards your stunt.”

A small huff of annoyance passed your lips as you frowned slightly at the raven. “Look, we’ve been going back and forth all week and I just need my stuff back. Would it make you feel better if I said that I forfeit?” 

Another page turned slowly, making your fists clench as Wednesday responded, “it was inevitable that you would accept defeat. Your blows were remarkably inferior.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee before her eyes once more met yours. “Seeing of your abilities I assume that you should be able to track out your possessions; I might recommend searching the north-western quadrant of the woods.”

Your eyes widened in frustration and annoyance. “That’ll take me half the day to search, how much ground to you expect me to even cover in the period of time that I have to work with?”

“Your senses are more than satisfactory for uncovering your works. If you use what you have of a brain then you should be fine.” The raven gave a slight roll of her eyes, returning back to her book, muttering. “Just don’t do anything foolish.”

“Yeah, yeah, glad to know you care so much.” You were poking at her now but you weren’t really paying attention when the Addams shot you the deadliest of glares, jaw tightening with frustration before returning to her book. You exited the quad, swerving down the hall. How in the hell were you going to do this alone? You had a lot of area to cover and only so much time before class started. Huffing, you picked up the pace as you powered through the halls. Your ears picked up a familiar scuttling sound from somewhere behind you, followed by a small tugging of your pants leg, making you turn and see none other than Thing.

“What do you want, Thing? I don’t have much time.” You paused your walking so the appendage could tap rapidly without having to move at the same time. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll deliver your lotions tonight, okay? I can’t right now but I promise I will.” An idea sparked in your mind before you started to walk again and you slowly glanced down at Thing. “You want another nail filer, right?” A couple of taps easily affirmed your question as you brightened. “Perfect. Then help me find where the hell Wednesday hid my books in the woods, and you’ve got a deal.” Thing paused for a moment before rapidly tapping again. “You weren’t with her when she hid them…” you slightly deflated before shaking your head and continuing. “Doesn’t matter. Two heads are better than…” you trailed off before trying again, “two hands? Two hands are better? Wait…” you counted your own hands for a moment, feeling extremely dumb for a second. “Three- three hands are better than one.” You were met with a couple smug taps and you bristled. “Shut up and help me look.”

The hand grabbed hold of one of the straps of your backpack to pull himself atop it, and you took that as a sign to continue, weaving through the halls until you hopped off the back steps and onto the lawn. The early morning sun was just starting to tip over the trees that still somehow bore leaves, though the grass was scattered with said foliage, crunching underfoot as you made your way across the lawn, shivering slightly as you silently wished the sun would just hurry the hell up.

The protection of the woods dimmed the light further, despite the lack of protection from the trees, what little light there was quickly darkening as the cover of the forest encapsulated you. It wasn’t as peaceful as usual. The woods had an almost eerie vibe, one that you couldn’t place but one that you could sense. That little patch of fur on the back of your neck? Standing on end, like your spidey senses. You caught yourself looking around on multiple occasions, having to shake off the wariness as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Wednesday had said it was in the north western part of the woods. Perfect. You were already there. But how would you be able to track down textbooks? What kind of scent trail would that even be? Sure, you’d maybe spilled a tad of soda on a page or two but surely that wasn’t anything strong enough to track down. You let your bag down so that Thing could emerge and the hand was instantly scuttling off into the woods, searching one section so you could continue yours. 

No, you were not going to get on all fours like an animal and sniff. The mere idea sent a shudder of repulsion and disdain down your spine, as you simply crouched down on the balls of your feet, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on what you were honing out. All that you could scent at the moment was pine, fir, durt, and the regular must odor of the forest, overlayed with old scent trails of animals that’d passed by long before. Underneath it was a scent you couldn’t quite place. It was almost a sulfuric scent; it was definitely faint and you had to really focus to even get a good whiff, but it was there. 

You started half walking half jogging around to try and get some sort of scent trail, rolling your eyes as you silently regretted your action of stealing the Addams’ typewriter. How in the world did she even expect you to-

A faint hint of vanilla.

You caught the scent abruptly when you passed a particularly large clump of undergrowth, stopping in your tracks as you slowly backed up to confirm what you’d just detected. Sure enough there was the scent of vanilla - a good strong whiff of it. Easily scentable. You crouched down again, not caring for once about dirtying your pants as you tore aside a couple clumps of pine needles and dirt, revealing a cardboard box, slightly bigger than a shoebox. Upon opening said box your books were revealed, and you let out a sigh of relief. As you pulled the box from the undergrowth you realized that the box had been lightly doused in vanilla extract, explaining the source of the trail.

Tucking your box safely under your arm, you started to pull your backpack back over your shoulder, dusting dirt and forest debris from your uniform when you suddenly heard the sound of multiple birds taking flight. Your head snapping upward you saw briefly through the thick trees a good number of said birds startled into the air, flying away with what to you sounded like a loud flapping of wings and an alarm call.

A faint scuttling broke through your thoughts as out shot Thing from the undergrowth, clearly scuttling as fast as he could as the hand dashed over to you, trying to sign through his scampers toward you. 

“Thing, what’s wrong?” You glanced at the appendage, worry thick in your tone, trying to understand what he was trying to say, but before you could try and make sense of anything a sudden sound broke through the woods, causing you to jump.

A gunshot.

The sound cracking through the still early morning forest air was enough to make your stomach curl as the fur on the back of your neck instantly stood up, your fingers gripping your backpack strap so tight that your knuckles began to whiten as your eyes widened. Thing leapt atop your bag, signing rapidly, but you were in too much of a daze to even process anything he was saying, practically frozen on the spot like a deer in the headlights as you tried to work through the current fog that was your mind at the moment.

You couldn’t hear anymore gunshots, thank god, but now dread hung thick in the forest air, tension strung tightly from branch to branch as if it was something palpable you could touch. A thick stench of sulfur returned to your nose and you recoiled, taking a step backward that broke you from your daze, instantly reminded of the sulfuric scent you’d smelled earlier. You were backing up now, Thing clutching tightly to your bag as you turned and ran.

You knew there was nothing, nobody behind you but you were beginning to hear things, imagining the rapid footsteps and the crunch of dry leaves underfoot other than your own as you strained for every ounce of speed your body possessed. You were in flight mode. 

Lungs aching and mind focused only on getting out of the forest, you burst from the cover of the forest, racing across the lawn as Thing held on for dear life just so that he wouldn’t fall off. You weren’t paying much attention as your feet got tangled up, and you took a tumble to the ground, skidding a couple feet in the grass as you felt the dry autumn terrain tear at your clothes, most definitely skinning a knee in the process. Thing went flying, landing a couple feet away from you as you stilled on the ground, taking in short breaths.

Your breathing was hurting. God, it hurt to breathe but every second you didn’t it felt like your lungs were going to shrivel and die. Struggling, you huffed in short, cut off breaths as you tried to register everything at once and calm yourself down.

Your body stilled when you heard the dreaded crunch of dry leaves underfoot growing closer. Weren’t you just imagining things? You were supposed to be safe here, Nevermore was supposed to be safe.

“Y/N.”

You slowly dragged yourself to a sitting position, trying to force an expression of calm on your face despite the icy panic you were still experiencing as you slowly looked up to see Wednesday, dressed in uniform with her bag over her shoulder standing beside you, eyes examining you as if you were a scientific experiment. Were you? Was that was this whole… treasure hunt in the woods had been? 

“What happened?” The Addams tone was neutral but oh so barely softer. Her glare wasn’t as piercing as usual. She could tell. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, she could somehow tell how panicked you were? Was it the fact that that damn patch of fur you had was still sticking straight up and bristling like a hostile dog? Was it your struggling to take in breaths as you groaned at the new pain in your muscles from the fall you’d taken? It definitely wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been but it still stung.

You struggled to answer as your voice came out much softer than you intended, “I- it- there was-” you had to drag in a couple more breaths as the raven slowly knelt down beside you, cold knuckle coming under your chin to lift your face to meet yours, her eyebrows furrowing as she met your eyes. “I would suggest attempting to control your breathing and refraining from talking until you do so.”

Instead of responding with a witty remark you simply took her advice, trying to do a breathing exercise as you silently counted in your head, closing your eyes to help your focus as your chest began to rise and fall in a less erratic pattern. Slowly, you regained your focus and the panic seeped away, and you were able to speak regularly, though your voice had a slight shake to it. Damnit, you were supposed to be better than this. You didn’t want Wednesday’s pity.

“I found the books but when we were about to leave we heard a gunshot in the woods.” Wednesday’s hand was gone almost as soon as it had come; you hadn’t even noticed. The Addams raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Thing and I. We were together,” you stood up painfully, rubbing your skinned knee as you retrieved your fallen items, gesturing to Thing who was on the ground still, dazed. You silently promised yourself to bring him an extra nail buffer for the appendage as an apology later that night, watching him slowly crawl over to the two of you. Wednesday straightened as her eyes flicked from Thing to the woods, clearly in deep focus as she remained silent for a moment. “Approximate the distance between where the gunshot originated and the academy.”

You thought for a second, math racing through your brain as you tried to make a connection. Damnit, you were sucky as hell at your math. After a moment you responded uncertainly. “I’d say two miles. The sound wasn’t as sharp as it could’ve been.” You were pacing now, mind racing as you recalled the sound itself. “I think it was a shotgun.”

“I see.” Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly and you noticed her jaw tighten slightly as she glanced at Thing again. “And what did you witness?” The appendage began tapping slowly at first, shaking off the daze of his own fall before his signs became more rapid in pace. The Addams sighed slightly as she folded her arms before muttering, “at least you made a wise decision in splitting up to cover ground.” She paused before turning to you, eyes glancing up to meet yours. “If I may offer a suggestion, I’d recommend that we bring this to Weems.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you felt a small flutter in your chest as you spoke, trying not to sound too hopeful. “You mean we’ll work together?” Wednesday gave a roll of her eyes, muttering something under her breath with gritted teeth before finally glaring at you again. “Yes, but only for the fact that half of this school are incompetent adolescents who would perform quite poorly compared to… you.” The Addams reluctantly admitted, her voice becoming strained at the end of her sentence. “Strictly a professional relationship shall be required. Understood?” She offered her perfectly manicured hand to yours, waiting for you to shake with a raise of an eyebrow. 

You didn’t hesitate one moment, grasping her cold, stiff hand in hers and shaking it.

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pt.8 here!