“Cara Mia.” “Mon Cher.” || Xavier Thrope

The Addams family drawing room smelled of damp earth and decaying roses. Outside, the perpetual thunderstorm rattled the lead-lined windows. Inside, two identical black-haired girls sat cross-legged on a Persian rug woven with unsettling patterns.

Morticia Addams

her voice like velvet wrapped around a dagger Listen closely, my little scorpions. One day, someone will look at you the way your father looks at me.

Wednesday stared impassively at the mounted piranha on the wall. Y/n fidgeted with the lace trim of her dress.

Morticia Addams

They will see the darkness in your souls and call it beautiful. They will bring you bouquets of nightshade and whisper secrets in forgotten languages.

Gomez Addams

bursting through the double doors, fencing foil in hand Tish! That's French for 'fire'! He swoops Morticia into a dip, kissing her passionately as she laughs, a sound like shattering crystal

Wednesday and Y/n exchanged a look of profound sibling disgust.

Wednesday Addams

without looking at Y/n The color. It's assaulting my retinas. I may need to blind myself.

A boy with paint-stained fingers paused on the stone steps, his eyes lingering on Y/n before quickly looking away. Across the courtyard, a brooding barista wiping down tables watched Wednesday with unusual intensity.