never getting over the lil nose kiss Louis gives Armand (also, WHY have someone walk in front of the camera right then?? diabolical. is it for thematic significance? probably. but also, evil. don't disrupt their fluff.)
| prologue | part one | part two (you’re here!) | part three (coming soon) |
Series Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had dreams of a constant ticking sound and a raven-haired boy, who seemed to be lost in the constant madness of his mind. You always thought they were nothing more than dreams. That is until your brother digs up a zombie and you first learn about Isaac Night.
Pairing: Isaac Night x Addams!Reader
Word count: 3029 words
Series warnings: Reader is an Addams, you have psychic abilities (prophetic dreams), obsession, zombie things, brain eating, blood, violence, past animal death, mystery, dark humor, slow burn (?), falling in love, romance, eventual smut, canon divergence, no mention of Y/N, more will be added later
Notes: Slowly more information gets revealed… 🤭. I’m cross-posting this story on Ao3 now! English isn’t my first language.
Chapter Two: Folie à deux
Your hands glided over the strings of the harp standing beside you, following the melody that Miss Capri— the new music teacher— was playing on her piano.
Just like your sister Wednesday, you had grown up with music, but where she preferred the gothic, somber sound of the cello, you loved the gentler tones you could coax from the harp. But today you were unfocused. Notes were off-key, fingers slipped, and notes were wrong. Where there was usually perfection, you now found yourself in a never-ending state of distraction.
But how could it be otherwise? How could you concentrate on the music when all you could hear in your head was the boy's voice, responding to your sentence? It couldn't have been a coincidence. Isaac had understood what you said, and he had replied to your words in a way that shouldn't have been possible.
You had never been in that lab, not at that time at least, and yet he had understood. It was a miracle.
Another mistake, a note too high, and Isadora Capri's piano suddenly fell silent: "Miss Addams. What's wrong today? I don't recognize you like this."
Her voice sounded disappointed, and when you looked up at her, you could see that her expression reflected it too. Your classmates stared at you, and you felt shame rising within you. Your cheeks flushed with heat, and you instinctively looked down at your lap again. You hadn't made such fleeting mistakes since you started your music lessons at the age of six.
"I'm sorry, Miss Capri. I don't seem to be myself today," you apologized to the older woman, but without looking her in the eyes. Her disappointed gaze reminded you of your mother's whenever you had excitedly told her about your dreams as a child. Her sigh had made you look down at the floor in shame and keep your mouth shut until today.
"Could we perhaps talk after class?" she asked you, and your cheeks automatically burned even more.
"Of course, Miss Capri," you replied, nodding your head, whereupon the woman wearing a tiger-striped dress turned back to her musical instrument.
Her manicured fingers glided over the keys again, striking up the melody of a classical piece again. The rest of the class quickly followed, and a symphony of string and wind instruments filled the classroom, but the harp remained silent.
Your gaze wandered to the window, from which you could see the Iago Tower. You imagined seeing a shadow pass by the window and pictured Isaac muttering physics formulas to himself like a madman, while one of his machines sparked and he theatrically levitated objects through the air. A smile played on your lips, and you could feel the disappointment of your failure slowly fading away like the waves of the sea during low tide.
He always managed to make you feel calm, even when he wasn't physically there.
The bell rang, and the first students stood up to put on their jackets, put away their instruments— if they belonged to them and not the Nevermore itself— and leave the classroom. You did the same. However, you did it more slowly, since you had to stay a little longer anyway. You didn't want to have this conversation, as your grades were otherwise good and you had never really stood out negatively, but now you had to.
You walked over to the teacher's desk, where Capri was now sitting after leaving her piano. "You wanted to speak to me?"
The woman opposite you looked up and gave you a gentle smile before gesturing to the chair opposite the desk. “Yes, exactly. Please, sit down.”
You did as you were told and sat down on the chair she had indicated. You sat as your mother had taught you, your back straight, your hands resting on your knees, and your gaze unwavering from Capri's. Pugsley didn't care about etiquette, Wednesday did whatever she wanted, but you were very much like your mother. Probably the curse of the firstborn.
“Would you like to tell me what happened today?” Isadora Capri asked you in a gentle voice. “So far, I’ve always heard you play flawlessly, and your record also testifies to your perfection.”
In response, you gave her a smile, but yours was practiced and a little too perfect. How could you ever explain to her what had happened in your dream last night? Besides, you didn't know her well enough to even want to confide in her, even though she seemed quite friendly.
“I just don’t feel well today, I guess. I didn’t sleep very well last night,” you lied.
“You’re a psychic, aren’t you? Did you have a vision?” the teacher asked you, at which your smile faded slightly. She didn't know you, and you didn't know her. Her concern didn't feel right to you. Why was she being so friendly? Most people were only that friendly when they had ulterior motives.
“No, I just couldn't sleep,” you repeated with a little emphasis in your voice. “Besides, I don't have visions.”
“Yes, right. Now I remember. I read something about prophetic dreams in your file. I've never heard of that before. That's rare, isn't it?”
You found it interesting how cleverly she was trying to pry information out of you. She was smart. But why should you hide your abilities from her? It was all detailed in your school file anyway, and lying to her would only spoil the atmosphere between you. The music class meant a lot to you, and if you were good enough, you might even be allowed to accompany her to Willow Hill, where she occasionally played for the mentally disabled.
A small sigh escaped you, and you decided to tell the truth, even if it wasn't the whole truth: “Yes, such dreams are rare. My grandmother told me that only swans could do that. However, she couldn't really help me either.”
“And what do you dream about, if you'll allow me to ask?”
“A boy,” you replied without hesitation.
“A boy?” she questioned, her long eyelashes fluttering in confusion.
“You heard me.” Your voice lost some of its gentleness. She was probably just curious to learn about a rather unknown subtype of Outcast, but you still found her interest conspicuous.
“I don't mean you any harm, Miss Addams. I just want to help,” Capri clarified, leaning forward slightly, as if that would somehow enlighten you.
“I’ve already told you the truth. Every night I dream of a boy, and every morning I wake up wishing I could be with him. But that never happens.”
You left out the part of the truth that involved your brother digging up a zombie who was the same boy— Isaac. Now that you knew his name, you could call him that. You wanted to visit him again today, and you absolutely had to talk to Professor Orloff. You should probably do the latter first.
You stood up from your chair and smoothed the skirt of your black and purple striped Nevermore uniform. “Excuse me, but I have biology class with Professor Orloff now.”
Capri nodded and stood up as well out of politeness. “Of course. But if you continue to have trouble sleeping, you should perhaps contact the headmaster, yes?”
“I will,” you replied curtly, grabbed your bag, turned around, and left the music classroom. You left your harp there, as it was too big and heavy to carry it back and forth from your room to the classroom every time. Besides, everyone knew it was yours, since the wood was so black it looked like it had been burned in the past, and your initials were engraved on the front.
The door closed behind you, and you hurried to the biology classroom, hoping you wouldn’t be late. Anticipation bubbled inside you at the thought that the floating head in the jar might be able to give you more information about Isaac. You just had to ask him about it.
The hour and a half of biology class flew by, as you spent the whole time formulating sentences in your head that you would say to Orloff. You had to ask him about Isaac, but without it sounding strange. The boy of your dreams had been a science genius, and it was possible you had found some kind of award? You were very sure that he had received some. Probably quite a few. All the inventions you had seen him build had been simply brilliant.
If he hadn't died and then become a zombie, he probably would have won a Nobel Prize someday. But how had he died in the first place? And when?
The wheels of the machine, in which the professor's head was contained in a water tank, squeaked across the classroom floor as he rolled towards the desk. He couldn't use it anymore, since he had neither arms nor hands, but he could still stand in front of it.
"By next week, I expect a one-page essay from each of you on the human heart. You may go," the professor said, which you quickly jotted down in your notebook.
And while everyone else got up to leave, you went to the front of the room for the second time that day to ask your questions. But this time it was actually important, and you were interested in the outcome.
"Professor? Do you perhaps have a minute for me?" you asked him in a gentle tone, smiling kindly at him. You had to look down to meet the man's eyes, as the machine didn't give him much height. It's probably also a philosophical question whether he could still be considered a 'man' or even a 'human being' in this state, or merely a human body part. But you didn't want to have that discussion today.
Orloff looked up at you and returned your smile in the way only an old man could: "Of course, Miss Addams. What's on your mind?"
You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and opened Pandora's Box with your question: "I'm interested in a former student of yours. His name is Isaac. He was a DaVinci and a very talented young man. Do you remember him?"
The professor's expression darkened, and his smile vanished. Instead, his mouth was now drawn into a thin line. You would probably have to choose your next words carefully so that he wouldn't chase you out of the biology classroom.
"How do you know about him?" Orloff asked in return. You would have to proceed with tact now.
"I saw an award he received. I wondered who he was," you lied, hoping that there was actually an award dedicated to him somewhere in the school. You didn't even notice that you kept switching between the present and past tense when talking about him. If you didn't know him better, you wouldn't know his fate.
The old man skeptically raised a gray eyebrow: "That can't be, Miss Addams. After Isaac's disappearance, the headmaster had his awards removed. So you could not have seen them."
"Disappearance?" You immediately questioned him. "When did he disappear?"
"Why does that interest you?" Professor Orloff countered, and you realized your mistake. You shouldn't have sounded so desperate.
"Because— Um, because I—"
"Why are you lying to me, Miss Addams? I haven't heard that name in thirty years, and now you come and demand information from me. What is the reason?" Orloff asked you, but he didn't sound angry, just disappointed and patient. Somehow, that made it even worse.
You sighed and knelt down on the floor to be at eye level with the head in the jar. "I apologize, Professor. It's just that this is really important to me. I dream about him— about Isaac. I see him every night, over and over again, and I just want to finally know who he really is."
For a few seconds, Orloff simply looked into your eyes, as if weighing whether you were actually telling the truth this time, and then he nodded gently.
"Isaac Night was the most brilliant Da Vinci this school has ever seen. At a young age, he already crossed the boundaries of science and cheated death by building himself a new heart when his own was failing. Initially, he built useful things that advanced the lessons or the school, but then our former Professor Stonehearst had a laboratory built for him in Iago Tower. After that, Isaac played God, and one day, he simply vanished without a trace. I cannot tell you what happened to him, but there was an explosion," he told you, and you absorbed every single word. Nothing the old man said frightened you. No, on the contrary. It fascinated you.
"But wasn't he searched for? Didn't he have any friends at Nevermore?" you asked the biology professor in return.
Orloff opened his mouth, closed it again, and then continued with his interpretation of the story: “Isaac was alone most of the time, you know. He always tried to be the best in his class. When I did see him, though, he was always with his sister— Francoise. A sweet, kind girl. She was completely different from him. She mourned him for a very long time. A very long time, yes.”
You already knew from your dreams that he had a sister. Who else could the brown-haired girl have been, the one who always sat by his bedside in the hospital during his childhood? But now you also had a name for her, a name you could use. Isaac and Francoise Night.
“But didn’t he have a roommate?” you continued, hoping to glean even more information that could give you a clearer picture of him during the time he was still at this school. Before his disappearance. Before his death.
Orloff shook his head in his tank filled with water, which he called his home. The conversation had reached its end for him.
“Miss Addams, some things belong in the past and should stay there. He—”
“But why do I dream of him? Why are my powers tied to him? I long for answers, Professor! The more time passes, the more I wish I were with him. I fear I'll go mad someday if I don't find out the reason,” you interrupted him, a desperation lacing your voice that you rarely heard from yourself. It was true, though. Every word that had just left your lips was the cold, naked truth.
The machine moved a step closer to you, and you could see in the old man's expression that his initial anger and defensiveness had vanished. Instead, his eyes were gentle.
“We all long for something, Miss Addams. Be it money, family, love, or a person we only know from our dreams. That's perfectly natural. But it's important that you don't lose yourself in an illusion, do you understand? You're idealizing a ghost.”
Your dark eyelashes fluttered, and you stood up, taking a deep breath to prevent yourself from crying. It would only show your weakness and smudge your makeup, and an Addams wasn't weak. Maybe Wednesday was right about that. Maybe it really was better sometimes to keep people at a distance so their words couldn't hurt you.
“Thank you very much, Professor Orloff, but this ghost is all I have. Have a nice day,” you said before quickly grabbing your bag and hurrying out of the biology classroom. His voice called out to you once, but the door had already closed behind you, and you were on your way to the only person who could offer you comfort right now.
"You're driving me to madness, you know that?"
The wooden door of the bee shed slammed shut behind you, and you were greeted by the animalistic grunting of Slurp, who immediately took a few steps towards you, but was again held back by the metal chain, just like the day before. He didn't seem to learn. That was evidence of the lack of brain he currently possessed. It was sad to see him like this. Not human, monstrous, and stupid. So different from the boy you had known your whole life. And yet, you weren't afraid of him.
"I know your name now. Isaac Night," you said softly, as you sat down on the ground opposite him. He stretched out his gloved hand towards you, while more noises escaped him. He seemed hungry, or he was angry at you, but you couldn't imagine why.
"Do you know mine? Do you know who I am?"
Your question was answered with more rattling of the chain and grunting. It wasn't exactly an answer, but you liked to think that he actually wanted to give you one, but simply couldn't. You had already noticed the hole on the right side of his head yesterday. A laceration perhaps? Was that where the blood you discovered in his lab came from? Had his death been an accident that was then covered up as a disappearance? There were still so many unanswered questions, but the only person who could answer them was the zombie in front of you. You would have to wait until he was healed. If he would ever heal...
"I hope my presence doesn't bother you, Isaac. I'm going to write my biology essay now, okay? It's about the human heart," you explained to him, as you opened your backpack and took out your notebook and a pen to work on it.
Your pen flew across the paper, accompanied by the ticking of a clockwork mechanism, while an expression of concentration settled on your face. In the first few minutes, he desperately tried to break free from his chains, probably so he could lunge at you. After five minutes, the struggling lessened, after ten minutes the chains fell silent, and after twenty minutes— when you glanced up from the edge of your notebook— you saw him silently watching you from the other side of the shed.
And after an hour, you read aloud to him what you had written so far, and you could swear that he was trying to correct you.
Perhaps the Isaac you knew from your dreams was still in there somewhere after all.
I like the lost boys because they all jingle when they walk. I watched it again last night and in every "silent" scene without background music they jingle you can tell they're all wearing their weight in jewelry it's so funny. Jumping off the bridge? Jingling. Walking the boardwalk? Jingling. Killing people? Jingling. They're like magpies
hey guys have you ever heard of THE CHARACTER. i’m thinking about THE CHARACTER. honestly can’t even get shit done because i’m thinking about THE CHARACTER. i’m listening to a song and imagining THE CHARACTER. all i know and love is THE CHARACTER
i love that dream caught onto loki's scheme and was like that's actually hilarious but i can't let you condemn a storm god to pits of eternal torture while he's my guest so i'm going to have to stop you right there sorry.
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