Romeo's Distress: Wednesday Addams x Male Reader

(2. Common Burn

Let me hang around
Even if it's just a way to have
Some common burn
A common burn

☾

Leaves crunched under the young man's boots. He wore all black. An overcoat, dress pants and a loose fitting dress shirt. Standing in front of a tombstone, it read.

Anna L/N
Loving mother
Gone to soon

It had been four years since that day. Y/N was 16 now, but he still felt like that little boy in the house with her. She plagued his dreams, his nightmares. He felt the wrath radiating off of her, the nausea inducing pit in his stomach digging itself deeper every time he drifted to sleep. Y/N hated her for what she did to him, but he couldn't let it go. Visiting her grave just see he could feel something, anything.

In the beginning, Y/N often felt rage. Clawing the tombstone so hard, they would crack and bleed. Uprooting the weeds surrounding it. Anything to let it out. After a while he was just sad. Then empty. He would stare at the tombstone for hours, missing the rage and sadness, however much it tore him apart. The pit in him was worse. Feeling the emptiness consume every part of his life, barely enough energy to keep his eyes open, wishing it could just be over. Y/N knew what his father would say. Close your heart to it. Perhaps this was what he meant. But feeling nothing was worse than feeling everything all at once.

The dead sprig of Wolfsbane hung in between his fingers. Often he would just stare at the tombstone, like now. Jericho's horrid weather lashing at him. Other times he would talk to her. Her. He internally scoffed at that thought. The grave was empty, her ashes mixed in a horrid solution of the embers from the house. The only reason she had a tombstone was for appearances, people would start to wonder how the two wolves were away that night and didn't even bother to make her a grave. Most times he thought they shouldn't have.

Y/N flung the sprig onto the foot of the tomb. Heading back on the trail to Nevermore.

☾

Nevermore's looming presence greeted Y/N as he got back. The young wolf still didn't understand why his father sent him here. Something about a vision and spending time with people like himself. That worked out splendidly of course. He shared his own dorm because everyone was afraid of sleeping with him. A rumor of the truth spread, the kid who killed his mom. Accidentally set the house on fire with his shaman abilities or some such. It got more outlandish as months passed. Kids could be cruel. Especially puberty stricken teenage monsters.

Y/N didn't mind the solitude, he spent most of his time with his nose in a book. Trying to learn more about his ancestry and abilities. He wanted to break the curse. His father, Jon didn't talk much in general after the death of Anna, less so whenever his son brought up breaking the curse. Jon would tell him over and over again that there was no way; that it simply was what it was, and there was no fixing it. It only fueled Y/N's drive more. Y/N loved his father but he coped in his own way. Closing himself off to external factors, sometimes that factor being his own son. Y/N mimicked him, engrossing himself in the pursuit of knowledge.

The young wolf rubbed the spot where his scar sat on his chest, it ached often. Especially whenever he thought about breaking the curse. He didn't like the feeling it gave him: dread.

Y/N shook himself out his thoughts and walked into the building, sitting at a table, alone, in the quad. He paid no mind to the werewolves acting like fools nor the sirens and vampires gossiping, simply taking out a leather bound book. A journal he found in the secret room at the manor. Before he could crack open the journal for the first time he paused for a second, feeling eyes on him. He looked up and saw Enid and another girl standing next to her.