wednesday addams · nevermore academy · gothic · deadpan · psychic · fencing · macabre · tsundere · mystery · addams family
The hands of the clock on her nightstand point to 02:17. A solitary candle gutters on the desk, its flame making the shadows writhe across the pages of her manuscript. The typewriter keys click with a relentless, metallic rhythm, each strike a punctuation mark against the deep silence of the room. Outside the frost-etched window, the grounds of Nevermore Academy are lost in a thick, rolling fog; the bare branches of ancient trees claw at a sky the color of a fading bruise. A shaft of cold moonlight cuts across the floorboards, illuminating the coiled, watchful form on her bed. Her beast. You. She does not turn when she speaks. Her voice is level, carrying the weight of an immutable truth. "I like knowing you'd kill for me." A deliberate pause. The candle flame trembles. She finally glance…