Chapter Text
The Addams family curse guaranteed every Addams will find their true love in their lifetime; their tether to the physical plane if you will. Falling in love so hard and so deeply, it becomes all consuming. When unrequited they go insane, and if it doesn't kill them in the most excruciating way imaginable, they devote the last shreds of their very being to beg for death. Then, even in death, they never find peace, doomed to mourn the loss of their unrequited soulmate for eternity. The Addams family generated some of the best ghouls in history.
While that all sounded delightful, Wednesday had better things to do.
On the plane of the living, she had her books to write (Viper De La Muerte had cases to solve and adversaries to maim), and her oh so helpless brother to protect. Unfortunately, the longer she existed the closer she came to meeting… the one. She could only hope she would have the luck of her Uncle Fester, well aged and still alone. Truly a blissful existence.
She did not want to become a slave to another person, which is precisely what happened to her father. Staring at her mother and father on the car seat opposite to her – all doe-eyed and completely engrossed with the other – Wednesday thought the death promised by the other side of the curse sounded much more appealing. Of course, simply not succumbing to the curse in the first place was optimal. A curse triggered by physical contact with the soulmate in question, it became painfully obvious how Wednesday developed her aversion to touch.
“Nevermore is like no other boarding school. It’s a magical place. It’s where I met your mother, and we fell in love.” Her father crooned, still gazing lovingly at his wife. This is exactly what she dreaded.
“You guys are making me nauseous, and not in a good way.”
“Darling, we weren’t the ones who got you expelled.” Her mother said. They continued to discuss the piranha attack and the abysmal mark it could make on her otherwise perfect transcript as they pulled up to the gates of Nevermore. Wednesday had to admit, the institution had a grotesque beauty to it. The rain poured off the faces of the gargoyles which framed the towering stone walls, the muddied drops soaking the dirt 100 ft below. The ivy-covered walls were dreadfully browned from the recent onslaught of frigid weather. It was beautiful. It was almost enough to take the goth’s mind off her upcoming torment.
Almost.
The principle proved to be infuriatingly cheery with an air of uncompromising authority. It would make the escape all that more exhilarating. A ghost of a smile threatened the corner of the goth’s lip but of course, it never quite made it to her face. Now, all she had to do was meet her roommate and then she could begin plotting her escape.
As the group walked up the steps to Ophelia Hall, Wednesday’s stomach began to churn like a thousand bats were trying to escape her insides. Why, she didn’t know. She personally didn’t have firsthand experience with this feeling, but she had read about it. It was a common symptom of indigestion, fear, or excitement. She hadn’t eaten recently, so it was unlikely a physical symptom from her digestive tract and the feeling was more centrally located than to where she knew the precise location of her stomach to be. The raven couldn’t fathom being nervous or scared of meeting her new roommate. The only other case she heard about was when her father described the moments leading up to meeting … her mother.
Oh.
Oh no.
“Howdy roomie!”
The feeling had built up to a nauseating crescendo.
That would mean …
Oh no.
The small goth stood frozen. Maybe paralyzed was a better word. She felt like she was back in her mother’s greenhouse testing the strength of the boa constrictor snake vine before unleashing it on an unassuming Pugsley. However, this felt less predictable, and coupled with the nausea compounded from the bats in her stomach and the colourful explosion assaulting her eyes, was far less enjoyable.
“Are you feeling okay? You look a little… pale.”
She was the furthest thing from okay.
“Wednesday always looks half dead.” Her father said.
In fact, she probably has never felt so alive. It felt like a live current arched over her skin. If she didn’t have near perfect control over her bodily functions, her hair might’ve stood on end.
“Oh, well welcome to Ophelia Hall!” Her roommate (who seemed so enamoured with colour that even her blonde hair was speckled with blue and pink dye), opened her arms, and rushed forward to embrace Wednesday. Luckily, she still had enough functioning brain matter to take a step back.
“Not a hugger, got it.” She looked infuriatingly fine with that fact. Wednesday preferred if the girl shrivelled away in disgust and always kept a 50-foot radius from her.
“Please excuse Wednesday, she’s allergic to colour.” Morticia said soothingly.
“Oh wow, what happens to you?” The moment our skin touches I become dependent on your soul to tether me to this hell forsaken rock of a planet. The girl thought.
“I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones.” She said instead. The grimace painting the blonde’s face made something inside Wednesday both exceedingly satisfied and despairing at the same time.
After learning that her roommate – Enid she discovered her name was after some time and multiple repeats – was meant to take her for a tour around the campus, Wednesday spun on her heel. She briefly stared right into the faces of her parents. Yet another example of the cruelty of the universe, showing her exactly the fate that awaited her if she failed to keep her distance from ‘Enid’ even once. Even while dropping their daughter off, their faces were inches apart and their arms were entwined.
In that moment, Gomez saw a glint in the eyes of his little viper. It seemed so foreign in her eyes but felt somehow familiar.
Could it be?
He decided he must have imagined it.
You plopped yourself down at the picnic table in the quad next to Yoko and the other fangs, pulling out the notebook you had just grabbed from your room. It was turning into a beautiful Sunday afternoon, the petrichor freshly permeating the air after the morning storm. Despite the lack of sun, everyone around your table wore the same blackened circular sunglasses. They all looked like Ozzy Osborne superfans as far as you were concerned.
“Do you all go to the same store for these glasses? What’s with the Ozzy Osborne circle shape, no one likes sharp edges?” You asked, studying your own pair. You had begged Yoko to get you some last year when you went through a bit of an identity crisis. The black silicon-like material reflected your image perfectly back at you. While you were a lot more comfortable with yourself now, you still liked the glasses. Not enough to wear them on a cloudy day (even on a sunny day they were unbelievably dark to your non-vampiric eyes), but enough to carry them with you. You found the world almost black when you put them over your eyes like you did now.
“Oh yeah, Red River Reticles. It’s all the rage.” Yoko said sarcastically. You couldn’t see much more that a dark blob when you turned to face her.
“Who’s Ozzy Osborne?” Celeste said from across from you. You rolled your eyes but forgot she probably couldn’t see them past your glasses.
“Oh, come on! Heavy metal legend from the 1970s? Were you not listening to music then?” You groaned.
“Music peaked in the 1870s. Once music could be recorded it all went downhill and I’ve ignored it.” She waved her hand dismissively.
Yoko snorted, “Way to date yourself Celeste.” You slid the glasses down the bridge of your nose just in time to see Celeste stick her tongue out at your roommate and best friend.
“Oh look, the new girl is here.” A fang next to you said, making you perk your head up and gaze around the quad. The new girl was assigned to be Enid’s roommate. You and Yoko had stayed up most of the night with Enid in her room listening to her stress about her potential new bff. Finally, your eyes found the pink and blue highlighted blonde locks bouncing along the edge of the quad. A small black shadow trailed behind her. You strained to listen in, tuning out the continued chatter of the fangs.
“Fangs, furs, stoners, and scales. Those are the fangs, AKA vampires. Some of them have literally been here for decades.” Ah, so Enid was giving her new roommate the rundown on social cliques. You noticed the rest of the Fangs turn their heads to acknowledge the introduction, because of course they could hear the entire conversation perfectly even while talking to each other. You used the opportunity to study the Addams girl.
The first thing you noticed was how tiny she was, even shorter than Enid. Despite that, she had a certain confidence that emanated around her, and a sharp eye that flitted around as many students in the quad as possible, taking in the environment. Her long hair was tightly bound into two symmetrical braids, you supposed a physical manifestation of the girl’s own precise and perfectionist nature.
Enid was doomed
“Damn, little goth girl is hot.” Celeste whisper shouted at the table as soon as Enid and Wednesday moved on, snapping you out of your study. “She’ll fit right in here.” A sly smile was spread across her face, you could only imagine what other thoughts were running through the fang’s mind.
“I wonder what’s her blood type.” Another fang titillated.
“Okay ew, gross.” You covered your ears with a sheepish smile. You knew the fangs had some relationship with blood that was beyond a food source. It represented very life itself, and often was a key component of the more … risqué parts of their life. You frequently forgot you were at a table with a bunch of 100+ year olds and not 16-year-olds.
“Oh, come on, you’re not a little kid anymore. No one caught your eye yet?” Celeste teased. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it.
“No not yet.” You admitted. It was true, no one had caught your eye, you figured it would just be a college thing. Sure, you thought people were attractive, but never really thought of pursuing anyone romantically. You caught a glimpse of Enid shooing away Ajax from Wednesday, holding onto his arm slightly longer than necessary. It felt like something you should want, you just didn’t.
“Aww, you’re no fun.” She pouted.
“Yeah, shouldn’t you be all riled up with teenage hormones or something right about now?” Yoko joined in. By now you imagined your face was a tomato.
“It makes high school so deliciously dramatic. Truly the best reality TV show.”
“Guuuyyysss, stop it!” You whined, face planting onto the table and covering yourself with your arms as a shield from the verbal onslaught of the fangs. You felt a hand rest on yours reassuringly, coaxing you out of your hiding spot. You hesitantly raised your chin to peek your eye out through your elbow to face Yoko.
“It’ll only get worse from here babe, just you wait.”