Lunch Salad

Bark bark bark woof.. I like a lot of games and shows... and movies.... I have to many interests Loser Lesbian :] And dont worry ladies im single wink wink bark bark

[lunchsaladiscool]

Bark bark baaark..

hi yall!! If you were active in the down detector chat while tumblr was down, you might know that person who spammed barking in the chat (who was me!)

anyways, I just wanna say thank you to everyone who chatted in there. It was the most fun I’ve had in a while! :)

anyways, until the next tumblr shutdown. Thank you all!!

-tumblr dog

[heartilywrites]

mmmm i was thinking abt a kuvira x reader where they were like besties but then r distances herself during the whole great uniter shabang and falls for kuvira after. sort of like second chance i suppose?? ty for considering <333

⠀⠀⠀ ،، 𝓛ast piece ; Kuvira

summary: where Kuvira and you had been best friends since kids, but, as many friendships, you start to fall apart.

content warning: fluff ; kinda angst if you squint enough ; kuvira x fem–metalbender!reader ; description of eye color ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.4k

a/n: HI, I FINALLY AM WORKING ON MY REQUESTS :D I'm sorry if I took too long, but I hope I meet your expectations!! I did a different ending here from my other Kuvira's fics, I loved how it turned out at the end

“ Please stay by my side no matter what happens, I’m not complete without you.

Focus, focus, focus.

Two, three, four, and bend. Two, three, four, hands. Two, three, four, stay still.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “UGH! Gorgeous as always!” Suyin exclaimed with a smile looking at the group of dancers, she clapped for a couple of seconds. “That's all for today, people! You can go rest.”

After those words, you were quick to touch ground again thanks to the one lifting you up and smiled big once your best friend was at your sight. “How was it?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You could work on your posture, you look hunched.” the captain said in a fun tone, you knew it was a joke when a tiny smile started to form in her lips. Your hand hit her softly in the shoulder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, sure.” you started to walk over to your stuff.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It was great as always, miss perfect.” she followed you, helping with the bag of clothes you always brought to practice and hers was on the other arm.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You owe me dinner, Kuvira.” you changed topics to look at her with a big smile and a bottle of water on your hand. “How about you pay your debt?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “How about you pay your debt and do the dinner? You are the one owing me a dinner, not the other way around!” and both of you began your way to either home.

Kuvira and you had been best friends since you can remember, maybe it was around the time Su took her under her wing when you met Kuvira. You remember how a little earthbender walked over to you asking if you wanted to share moon peaches with her after she caught you looking at her and ever since that day you both have been inseparable.

She helped you to improve in your metalbending making you one of the best engineers in the city alongside Suyin's oldest son, when someone was bothering you she was the first to jump to defend you, when you had a bad day she always found a way to comfort you and make you feel better. She was your rock, the same way you were hers.

Everyone in Zaofu knew how close you two were and the appreciation one had for the other, but not a single soul knew how there was something more than friendship between you two. It was so secret that not even you both knew.

Both have had relationships before, even if they didn't last enough, you were certain to recognize the feelings between friends and lovers' affection. Or so you thought.

Your own feelings were questioned one of the days the avatar and her team arrived to the city, you were helping them with anything asked for as one of their hostess.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, you and your girlfriend look cute together. Are you in the guard too or is just her?” you heard the waterbender ask, your shoulders tensed at the noun used for Kuvira.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, uhm, it's just her.” you answered, surprising yourself when you didn’t deny the claim. “I'm actually an engineer. I like to work with metal.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm an engineer too!” the other girl exclaimed excited to meet a fellow engineer, thankfully that changed the subject to machinery and inventions with her and made you forget the moment before.

Even though you were a junior engineer, that didn't stopped you to talk for almost an hour with the girl about the struggles as an engineer and shared advices one with the other.

When you talked to Kuvira about your nerdy rant with Asami, her face had an indescribable grimace painted in it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “So you like her.” she said abruptly, cutting your train of thought and making you blink in confusion.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I mean, yeah?” you said more in a question than in an answer. “It's nice to have a chat with someone about this stuff other than Baatar Jr who loves to cut me off or not pay any attention.” you shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And she's pretty too.” Kuvira voice felt as she was thinking of something else, her focus somewhere else.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “She is.” you backed up the statement. “But what does that has to do wi–.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I have to go, I need to take care of some business. See you at dinner.” she spoke as if being rushed and started to walk away from you, leaving you even more confused.

In Kuvira's mind, there were alerts and sirens left and right, warning her about something, something she had repressed too deep to understand it now.

The events following your talk gave no one time to think, it was one thing after the other and that kept Kuvira away from you since she was the captain for the military guard so it made you grew closer to the young inventor and she was aware of it.

After the avatar left, Kuvira seemed distance with you. Only talking when you looked for her, she still walked you home, but the talks were ephemeral, she answered with monosyllables or head movements and you only could hope to find a way to get your relationship back to how it was.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm leaving,” she said one day, interrupting your commentary about how the practice was boring. You stopped in your steps, Kuvira stopped a couple after. “The Earth Kingdom is in need of a leader and I offered myself to Republic City's president to help get the Kingdom united until the new monarch takes their place.”

Your eyes were trying to look for hers, she was evading your gaze by keeping hers pinned behind you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I leave tomorrow.” every single word felt like a bucket of freezing water pouring over you. “Bataar is going with me, I need an engineer.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You tell me now?” the question left your mouth as a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Didn't you think I would like to know your plan? Or I would like to go as your engineer? You don't trust me anymore?” for the first time, she looked at you while calling your name, you shook your head. “Kuvira, I'm your best friend... I would go with you anywhere.”

A couple of seconds you both stood in silence looking at each other. “I'm sorry.” was the only thing she could think of saying to you.

Your hand rearranged the gym bag's strap over your shoulder. “I'll walk myself home, hope you have a great journey.”

You walked pass her and Kuvira fought against herself not to run after you, to tell you that she was sorry, she wanted you there with her... But her pride was stronger, she stood there.

That was the last time you two had a proper conversation, you didn’t attend to her farewell event nor talked to her before that. However, after two days of her being on the road, a letter with your handwriting arrived to her wishing her luck and health in her journey. But that was all, no more letters neither from you or her, you two took separate ways after that. Regardless of the years passing by, you couldn’t help but find yourself thinking about Kuvira every once in a while.

With Bataar gone from Zaofu, you moved from engineer junior to senior and with that more responsibility came along, enough to keep your mind occupied.

Suyin grew closer to you as you usually tagged along with her husband to talk work related things and city matters. She knew about how close you and Kuvira were, so every information she had she told you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I heard they just went to Qinchao.” the matriarch said while serving tea on your cup, you smiled a little bit her way.

Deep down, you were grateful with her for that, those comments were enough for you to make sure that at least Kuvira was still around. But one day she stopped talking about the metalbender and you didn’t want to appear desperate to know about her, so you didn’t ask anything.

You thought she was on her way to pass the now united Earth Kingdom to Wu, but were met with the news that she planned to invade Zaofu.

You helped with what you could to stop her, however when the Beifongs were captured, you got captured too. Instead of going to the same air-suspended prison, someone took you to Kuvira's train and made you sit in –what you thought was– the reunion wagon. A map of the kingdom displayed infront of you and a table with a bunch of blueprints on its right, sitting impatiently you were waiting for something... or someone.

The sound of the metal doors opening behind you made you sit straight again, one pair of shoes were making noises so you thought it was the last guard. Your mouth opened to talk and ask what you were doing there instead of being with the Beifongs, but your words caught up in your throat at the sight of the ex–captain.

Her eyes shined with distress, unsure of what to say or how to proceed, almost like waiting for a signal from you to tell her what to do. You only looked at her with a gaze she could not interpret, silence reigned for what felt hours while the two green-eyed were looking at each other.

At the same time, the two of you decided to break the silence colliding your voices. Kuvira blinked a bit and shook her head. “Sorry, you talk first.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Can you uncuff me?” you asked quickly at her making sounds with the platinum around your wrists.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, yes, one second.” Kuvira was fast to take out the key while walking behind you to take the cuffs out so you could be more comfortable. “There, uhm, you're free.”

Your left hand was quick to touch your right wrist once you were able to get your arms to the front, you looked for Kuvira. “Why am I here?”

The leader stood up again and walked to be face to face with you again, she still couldn't read your expression. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and Kuvira was able to see how your eyes softened a little bit, she was able to see that one girl a couple years younger that could make her world shake with her mere existence.

It took Kuvira three years away from you to know that she did love you like she had said a lot of times, but she loved you on another level which she never thought could've happen.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “To say... What? To boast about how you were capable to unify the kingdom on your own with... tyranny?” you words were harsh on her, she knew she deserved them either way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I did what I had to for my people.” she said back, almost in a sharp serious tone. “And I know you won't understand this now, but I did it for them... I did it for us.”

You stayed quiet, just looking at her, admiring her face like you used to do back in the day. “You never wrote to me.” your mouth talked in a low voice. “I was surviving with what Su told me about you and it wasn’t nearly enough.”

Kuvira's shoulders fell, her whole serious leader facade disappeared. You were the only person with the ability of making the ex–captain soft at your very liking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I didn't know what to say.” she said, raising her brow with tenderness. “I tried so many times to write you, tell you that I missed you, ask you if you wanted to join, but I never found the right words to do so.” Her gaze looked to the floor. “I needed you by my side.”

You felt dizzy, but in a good way. It was almost as if those feelings repressed by you all those years ago were creeping back in a plodding way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “If you had asked me two weeks ago if I wanted to join you on unifying the kingdom I would've joined.” you said after another round of silence, the lighter green eyes shot back to you in surprised. “Hell! If you had asked me yesterday if I wanted to join I would've say yes, Kuvira... Because I need you too.”

For the first time in so long, the military leader had no answer to give, her mind was cloudy with a bunch of thoughts unclear to her right now.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “All those years made me realize that I can't live without you by my side,” you continued when you realized she wasn’t going to speak. “You are the air that I breathe, even when we fell apart I still woke up everyday with the motivation to see you again and tell you that I love you.” your voice lower at the end, maybe you went a little bit too far by confessing to your best friend that.

A smile began to make an appearance on the pale girl's face, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leave your chest to fall at her feet. “It's so good to know that you would be by my side.” she started, squatting infront of you. “I'm so sorry it took me this long to realize that I love you too and I can't continue this without you... If I want the Earth Empire to together I need you with me.”

Your eyes sparkled with emotion at her, getting closer to her face you whispered. “I would walk through hell if that means I get to be with you.”

Kuvira took the step to kiss you, at the beginning a shy kiss took place, later on it escalated a little bit. Your hands cupped her face while one of her got in its way to pull you closer by the neck. After running out of air, both of you pulled away a little bit. “We should get ready to rule our empire together, my love.”

[fossadeiserpenti]

me, if anyone cares

[mond4yss]

i fucking despise those edited images where toph has a massive rack like SHE HAS AVERAGE BREASTS YOU WEIRDOS

[tbhsully]

Good morning to my wife, the sexiest earthbender in the world

[velvetarmor]

Toph “ms. steal your girl” Beifong my god

[hugsohugs]

ok i did it. image for people who like defending caine but also want to make it clear that they Understand that He Did Bad Things. feel free to use, no credit required. enjoy

[hugsohugs]

@forestlich LOL ok sure, evil version just for you

[batzzzzz]

Rool

[citrusmillie]

all tumbrlinas come from a common ancestor

[satan-offical]

I can't wait to see all of you in super hell

[lunchsaladiscool]

tumblr is super hell

[eatcopperwire]

[staff]

for april fools we’re deleting this entire site sayonara you weeaboo shits

[icantstopdrinkingoil1]

also made this into a stamp

[lunchsaladiscool]

10K IN DOWN DETECTOR!

this was truly an honor to contribute too.

[lunchsaladiscool]

Real question, did you reconnect with that other dog person????? I saw them searching for you

No… I have not. :(

though, if you have any contact of them, I’d love to connect with them!

[s-zys-world]

THE SCARLET ANGEL

SUMMARY: In which Wednesday Addams returns to Nevermore-not to resume her studies, but to bend the school itself to her will. Yet she finds herself ensnared in another mystery, one that bends her resolve and forces her to confront the very nature of her humanity. A mystery which, if left unsolved, will herald not only her undoing, but the ruin of the world she so longs to command.

WARNING: This is my first time writing, so I hope you’ll bear with me. English isn’t my first language (literally), so I ask for your patience as well. The story features a slightly out-of-character Wednesday and an original character with considerable power.

CHAPTER ONE

Never in her life did Wednesday imagine she would return to a school she had already come to despise. Nevermore, at first, she loathed it with every fiber of her existence. Yet after the spine-chilling and heart-shattering events that followed, her feelings shifted. It was not that the place had grown beautiful, no. But to Wednesday, it had become… satisfying.

And so, of course, she would return. Once, she longed to escape Nevermore, but the unsolved mysteries that clung to its halls kept her from leaving. Now, however, she no longer craved escape. Wednesday wanted only one thing: to bend Nevermore to her own will.

Returning to Nevermore felt, to Wednesday, like returning to the scene of a crime. The only difference was this: she knew where the body was buried, the killer was already behind bars, or something close to it, and the thrill of danger was gone. What lingered instead were the ghosts of the past, long buried, yet never forgotten.

At Nevermore, Wednesday was a hero. And the students knew well how to worship their heroes. The moment she stepped through the gates, all eyes turned to her with reverence.

She despised it. The stares, wide and worshipful. The endless flashes of phones, like minuscule bolts of lightning desperate to capture her face. The whispers, those cloying breaths of admiration and awe.

It was too much.

The sensation made her skin crawl, as if insects were scaling her body from the soles of her feet. Once, that feeling would have thrilled her. Now, it only made her want to retch.

The school, in their attempt to honor her, had their own peculiar way of doing it. And Wednesday questioned their sanity the instant she stepped inside and saw it: her face.

A perfectly detailed sketch of her, plastered on the wall, beneath the title "Outcasts' Most Memorable Student slash Hero". Not painted, not carved, but scrawled in cut-out magazine letters with squiggly fonts, as though a childish attempt at "spooky."

"Do you like it?" asked a voice beside her. Wednesday didn’t need to look to know. Of course, he would be the first to greet her. Predictable. Obvious.

"And I presume you are the prime suspect behind this despicable crime," she replied, her face a mask of apathy, though her tone carried the full weight of her disgust. She hated fame. She loathed it even more when literal walls were erected in its name.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea, the school asked me to, and I just followed orders." Xavier said quickly, his tone annoyingly cheerful, as though stifling laughter.

But Wednesday could hear it, the amusement in his voice. He was laughing at her, and she knew it.

"Don't you want to be famous for being a hero? You did save the school, after all." The guy shrugged.

"To be electrocuted by my brother in front of my entire family," Wednesday deadpanned, "is a far more desirable fate than this.

Her eyes were fixed on the sketch. If there was anything Wednesday longed to do at that moment, it was to rip the drawing to shreds and scream at the gawking crowd to stop admiring her.

She was meant to be feared, not adored. To be met with burning glares, not soft, sickly-sweet stares that clung to her like melted marshmallow.

Wednesday Addams was meant to be hated, not loved.

Love, to her, was nothing more than a childish delusion, a foolish dream that, in reality, amounted to nothing but attention lavished in excess. It was revolting, the same way Enid’s gummy worm candies made her stomach churn.

"The look on your face says everything. I take it you're not enjoying the clout?" came a voice at her ear. Bianca had appeared at her side, standing opposite Xavier, who greeted the siren with a smile, acknowledging her presence, unlike Wednesday, whose gaze never wavered from the offensive sketch.

"Why is everyone still talking about it?" Wednesday asked, her voice flat, laced with irritation. Her annoyance was only sharpened by the squeals of a few girls down the hallway, delighted simply to see her.

"Like I said, you're their hero."

Wednesday couldn't help but grunt and roll her eyes. Without another word, she walked away. One more mention of her as a "hero," and she would gladly show them exactly how mistaken they were.

A hero was something she could never be—and never would be. To distract herself, she turned her attention elsewhere.

She headed toward her shared room with Enid, only to find the place overrun by a pack of wolves. They were making noise, tearing through the space in chaotic frenzy, much to Wednesday's dismay.

As always, Enid—the eternal rainbow—greeted her with a beaming smile. With a quick word, she managed to usher the wolves away, explaining that they were only helping her with a "room renovation." To Wednesday's eyes, however, they had simply made a mess.

"How was your vacay? Mine was so eventful, I can’t wait to tell you everything!" Enid squealed, while Wednesday, without so much as a glance, walked past her, bag in hand, and began unpacking.

Enid continued chattering, recounting her summer at werewolf camp, her second full-moon howl, and every other moment that had made the season so endlessly thrilling for her.

To Wednesday, listening felt like a form of torture, not the kind she savored, but the dull, tedious kind she despised.

"And oh! I met this really, really nice girl. She's just so beautiful, it's making me question my sexuality! She's so hot like for real!!" Enid’s voice lifted with dreamy glee.

Wednesday turned sharply on her heel. Enid stood clasping her hands in front of her chest, cheeks pink, smiling so wide she looked intoxicated by the memory.

It made Wednesday's lips twitch—though she forced them back into stillness.

"And what happened to your life-draining, stomach-churning tale of your so-called romance with Ajax?" she asked, brows slightly furrowed.

Enid's smile faltered. Pouting, she flopped onto her bed and clutched her unicorn plush to her chest.

"Can't tell you. I know you hate relationship drama even more than you hate social interaction and colors."

"I do not grasp the appeal of theatrical drama," Wednesday replied evenly. "However, Eisheth once said that friendship is nothing more than possessing a front-row seat to watch another’s life spiral into chaos. And there is nothing I prefer more than watching yours."

Enid gasped softly. The words sounded strange, cold, even harsh—but she knew better. That was Wednesday's way of expressing affection. Odd, but decipherable enough.

"Does that mean–"

"Spit it out," Wednesday cut her off.

And Enid did, pouring her heart out. She felt lighter, grateful that, for once, Wednesday seemed willing to listen to her messy feelings. She couldn't be happier to call the goth girl her best friend.

"I tried working things out with him, but he’s got so many secrets. And the fact that we’re different species just… makes it hard to connect. So I broke up with him."

"And so you replaced him by bonding with another werewolf?" Wednesday asked flatly. Enid nodded, still pouting, her unicorn plush crushed in her arms.

"Ezra is not a replacement. She's…" Enid trailed off, her gaze dropping to her feet.

"She's more than that."

"She is a replacement, stop dressing it in sugar." Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid fell silent, chewing on the weight of those words. Wednesday relished the quiet, continuing her methodical unpacking. She placed her typewriter on the desk just as Thing crawled into view. The disembodied hand wiggled its fingers in greeting at the she-wolf, who returned the gesture with a smile so radiant it nearly lit the dim room.

"Just to be clear," Enid spoke again, her tone tinged with the need to explain what required no explanation. "Ajax and I broke up before I… entertained anyone else. And it's not even a relationship. It's more like… another one-sided admiration."

Wednesday didn't bother to glance at her. She couldn't care less whose heart Enid chose to chase, so long as it wasn’t her own heart that ended in tears.

"Knock knock."

The voice slipped through the silence like a blade. Both girls turned toward the door. Standing there was a tall figure—a woman with chestnut-brown hair and eyes as green and piercing as glass shards under sunlight.

Her Nevermore uniform was worn with deliberate carelessness: blazer tied at the waist, sleeves rolled, necktie loose, buttons undone just enough to reveal a dark tattoo across her collarbone—ancient Japanese strokes, unreadable to Wednesday's eye.

"Ezra!!" Enid nearly jumped, her grin widening until her cheeks glowed. Her voice pitched high, thin, and trembling, the same tone she once reserved for Ajax.

Now she used it for this girl. Wednesday's brow arched ever so slightly. Enid had neglected to mention that her latest obsession was not only real, but a student within these very walls. How very thorough Enid's storytelling was.

"Hello, Enid. Nice haircut," Ezra said, her voice deep, steady.

Enid squealed, a sound Wednesday doubted she would ever grow numb to.

"Thanks! You too. What’s that hairstyle called?"

"Wolf cut. Fitting, isn’t it?" Ezra answered with a faint smirk.

She stood almost six feet tall, pale as Wednesday herself, her frame lean yet built of muscle that threatened to tear through the fabric of her shirt with the smallest wrong move.

"Cool. You look good. No, good is an understatement. You look… handsome. I mean beautiful. No, more than beautiful, you're… you're—what's the word?" Enid’s words collapsed into a flustered mess. Her face flushed crimson as she glanced desperately at Wednesday for rescue.

But Wednesday only stood still, lips sealed, eyes fixed in an unblinking glare at the newcomer. Enid turned back, cheeks burning. "Right. Anyway, Wednesday, I'd like you to meet Ezra Blake."

The mentioned girl stepped forward, crossing the threshold without the courtesy of permission. The audacity, Wednesday thought, was taller than Ezra’s height. Too much for a werewolf. Her smile stretched wider than the Pacific, her presence buzzing with an energy so exaggerated it grated against Wednesday's bones.

"Good day, hero of Nevermore." And there it was. The word that scraped Wednesday’s nerves raw.

"I am not a hero," she replied, her voice sharp enough to cut stone.

Ezra chuckled, low and easy. "Yeah, right. And I'm death."

"Dead. Or you will be."

"Wednesday!" Enid's voice cracked—no, not a call, a warning. But Wednesday didn’t flinch. She never did.

"Sorry about that," Enid said quickly, her chest tight, heart racing. "Wednesday's just… a unique girl."

But Ezra wasn't offended. Not in the slightest. Her smile held steady, warm but edged with something unreadable. She waved her hand casually, brushing the threat aside as if it were smoke.

"It's fine. We're cool. I'm actually here to tell you—I'm your new dorm guidance… or whatever fancy title that comes with it."

"Really? That's so cool!" Enid nearly beamed, her voice lighting up. Ezra, feeding the she-wolf’s delight, gave a small nod, perfectly timed to keep her spell unbroken.

"It is, in its own way. But more importantly—I'm here to announce the new rules."

And announce she did.

No student was allowed into Jericho without written permission from the Principal and the Dorm Guide. No one could leave the school between ten at night and seven in the morning.

Even breakfast routines were rearranged.

Every rule fell like a hammer on the students' freedoms. Enid groaned openly at some, especially the ones aimed at her kind. Werewolves must behave with "composure" while in human form, no wild antics tolerated.

And worst of all, no outsiders in dorms, neither men nor women. Enid’s smile cracked. Her heart sank like a stone.

"And last," Ezra's voice slowed, deliberate, "under no circumstances should anyone engage in rage-baiting, stirring up trouble with students for personal gain."

Her eyes locked on Wednesday. The words weren't just spoken, they were delivered. Wednesday's brow furrowed. Ezra's gaze seemed to mean more than it said. A silent exchange, a challenge perhaps.

"I expect more from you, Miss Addams," Ezra continued, polite but firm, her smile never faltering. "You may be a hero, but I've heard whispers of your… rule-breaking tendencies."

The room chilled in silence.

"Next time, you'll see it for yourself," Wednesday declared, arms folding tightly across her chest as she locked eyes with the taller werewolf.

"Hhmm, don't test me, Ms. Addams. I don't back out without a fight." Ezra's smile curled into something mischievous, her voice low and serpentine, like a snake daring Wednesday to bare her fangs.

The room grew heavy with tension, so thick even Enid felt it. The blonde gave a nervous, exaggerated cough, forcing the two to finally break their stare.

"Is that it?" Enid asked, her smile fragile but still present.

"Yep." Ezra nodded, offering her farewells before turning to leave. Yet just before she stepped into the corridor, she glanced back at Wednesday, green eyes glinting, and threw her a quick, done-with-purpose wink, vanishing into the shadows beyond the door.

"So—"

"Your snake-haired boy is better," Wednesday cut in, her voice laced with irritation. She turned her back on Enid, resuming her task with a dismissive flick of her hand, as though the conversation had already exhausted her tolerance.

---

Normally, the gym during fencing class was filled with the sharp clang of clashing foils, the heavy breaths of those engaged, the low grunts of exertion, and the weighted echo of footsteps against the floor.

But today, the gym was unusually quiet. The moment Wednesday stepped inside, her dark gaze immediately caught the sight of a fencing sword.

It came flying toward her in a blur—so sudden that she had no time to react, nor was she expecting her death to be scheduled this early in the day. The blade's tip nearly grazed her forehead, but it never struck. It stopped mid-air, suspended just inches from the bridge of her nose.

And there she was, the green-eyed werewolf, materializing out of nowhere. Ezra stood at her side, effortlessly clutching the airborne weapon in one hand.

"You know, when I said test my speed and reflexes, I didn't mean you should hurl blades at me, little Addams," Ezra remarked, voice smooth and mocking, before turning her back on Wednesday. She strode toward the younger students, who stood in a neat row, fencing gear strapped on, swords in hand as if ready to throw them like darts at Wednesday's position.

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the gym, other students carried on with their own fencing duels, completely absorbed in their battles.

"Sorry, Wednesday!" Pugsley's voice echoed across the gym walls. But the moment her name was spoken aloud, all heads turned, and the students' eyes fixed on the goth girl—staring at her not with fear, but with awe and admiration.

Wednesday ignored her brother entirely, letting his voice fade into the background as she gave shape to the thought that had been festering in her mind.

The very thought that had haunted her since meeting Ezra the day before. For all she cared, Wednesday loathed the world, and with reasons she found perfectly valid. But this green-eyed werewolf, who had done nothing but exist, managed to ignite her ire in a way few others could.

It was strange, even to her. When she imagined murder, it was always with justification, always with a rationale. Yet now she found herself tempted to commit one for the most irrational reason of all: because Ezra was alive.

"Golden retrievers behave better than you," Wednesday cut sharply, her voice slicing clean through whatever Ezra had been saying to the younger students.

The silence that followed was thick, nearly suffocating. Ezra halted mid-stride, her tall frame pivoting slowly until her green eyes locked on Wednesday.

"Are you talking to me?" the werewolf asked, her tone deceptively innocent as she pointed a finger toward herself. The smile on her lips betrayed her, though, mischief dancing there like a spark refusing to die.

Wednesday, ever the statue of restraint, said nothing. Her eyes burned in reply, as if daring Ezra to keep pretending she didn't understand.

Ezra chuckled, lowering the foil in her hand with a flourish, her body dipping into a bow—precise, practiced, and strangely princely in its elegance.

"Apologies, Ms. Addams. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Fear is for the weak," Wednesday replied coolly, taking a deliberate step forward. "And cold feet are not my size."

Her eyes drifted across the room, scanning like a hawk sizing up prey. Every gaze was fixed on her, but it wasn't the crowd that caught her attention, it was Bianca, Xavier, and Ajax. Each bore bandages plastered across their faces like badges of recent humiliation.

The look they gave her was almost comical: a silent chorus screaming Don't speak. Don’t move. Don't even breathe. As if her very existence was breaking some unwritten law.

Wednesday's lips twitched, a ghost of amusement flashing in her otherwise icy expression. Doing something illegal, after all, wasn’t a deterrent. It was an invitation.

It was so very Wednesday Addams.

"Okay." The werewolf shrugged with a chuckle. Once again, Ezra turned her back on Wednesday. The motion made Wednesday’s jaw tighten until it threatened to crack. Her cold heart, as frigid as winter stone, sparked into flames of irritation. That smug smile, that unbearable confidence, that ever-mocking lilt Ezra wore like perfume, it was too much for the Addams girl to tolerate.

She opened her mouth to strike back when Enid suddenly appeared at her side, looping an arm around her and tugging her away from the line of fire.

“Wends, calm down,” Enid whispered urgently, her voice tight with nerves. “She didn’t mean to startle you. They were just messing around—and you walked in at the wrong time.”

Dragged to the far side of the gym, Wednesday's dark eyes roved over the faces of the others. Their vulnerability was written plain: the bandages hiding fresh wounds, the thinly veiled glares, the weariness etched in their posture. To her, they wore their weakness like an open casket display.

"What's the matter? Your souls slipping from your dull little existences?" she asked coldly, her voice slicing through the silence.

Bianca rolled her eyes in response, pulling her fencing mask down with intentional nonchalance before beckoning Yoko forward for a duel.

"She lost to Ezra. We all did. And yes—we fought without the masks." Xavier muttered, venom curling in his words.

And who in their right mind would duel without a fencing mask?

The thought almost slipped from Wednesday's lips, but she swallowed it back just in time, because she had once done the very same thing last year. And lost.

That shameful defeat still clung to her like a shadow. The first and only time she had been bested in a duel, her own idea, no less. For Wednesday Addams, that humiliation was worse than the stain of a murder conviction.

Far worse.

"I told you guys—don't duel with a werewolf. We've got senses none of the other outcasts do. It's in our nature." Enid chirped with a too-bright smile, clearly enjoying her moment as the voice of reason.

Her gaze had already wandered toward the taller werewolf across the gym. When Wednesday followed it, her dark eyes landed on Ezra, teaching the younger students their stances with an authority that didn’t belong to her.

That role usually belonged to Bianca. But now? The siren stood cast aside, forced to watch her place usurped by the wolf. Wednesday noted the flicker of mortification on Bianca's face once she took off her mask, and for a fleeting second it tasted sweet, like bitter coffee at dawn. But no, it wasn't satisfying.

There was nothing enjoyable about seeing Bianca replaced. Not by a werewolf. And certainly not by that werewolf.

"Don't even think about it," Xavier muttered at her side, his voice carrying an edge of warning. "Fighting her is pointless, Wednesday. She's… she’s a monster with a foil."

A monster of fencing. The words lingered in the air, but they only tightened the pull in Wednesday's chest. Because if what Enid said was true, that Ezra had been here at Nevermore for years, then why had she never shown her skills before? Why wait until now to unveil them?

Wednesday didn't care for the answer. What mattered was the itch burning in her blood, the unholy urge clawing at her bones.

The Addams girl wanted to challenge the so-called "monster of fencing.

"I'd be the judge of that."

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday didn't bother hearing Enid out. She stalked straight toward the coach, not to ask, but to declare her intentions. She wanted a duel with Ezra.

At first, the coach refused, shaking his head with the weary patience of a man who had seen too many Addamses in his career. But after a solid minute beneath Wednesday’s death glare, his resistance crumbled.

"Fine, Ezra Blake." he exhaled, resignation dripping from his tone. He raised his voice across the gym.

The command cut through the chatter. Silence fell like a blade. Ezra approached with a smile etched on her lips—a smile that Wednesday couldn't quite decipher.

Was it teasing? Mockery? Both? It didn't matter. To Wednesday, it was merely a curve of lips in a wide U, deep dimples framing it. Disgusting.

And annoyingly...exquisite.

No. Not exquisite. That word had no business in her vocabulary, and she refused to know it now.

"Yes, Coach? Need something?" Ezra's voice was soft, almost melodic, and that gentleness wrapped oddly around her presence. Her features, symmetrical, unpainted, untouched by cosmetics, were unnervingly natural. Skin pale but alive.

She wasn’t beautiful. Wednesday would never say she was beautiful.

"Have a duel with Ms. Addams." the coach instructed. Wednesday moved to stand beside him, her stance carved in confidence, her eyes already locked on Ezra like a predator sighting prey.

"Three rounds. No masks. Winner decides the punishment." Says the goth girl.

Ezra's brows furrowed as her gaze landed on Wednesday. For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Then she shrugged lightly, as if this were nothing more than a casual spar.

"Okay." She set her mask aside, foil in hand. The two young women took their places at the center of the gym. Around them, students scrambled to the sidelines, anticipation buzzing in the air. Some even exchanged bets in hushed whispers.

But Wednesday didn't care for the crowd. All she cared about was victory. If she could carve just one wound onto Ezra's face, maybe—just maybe—the fire in her chest would finally die down.

"Allez!" the coach barked.

On cue, Wednesday lunged forward. Her movements were sharp, calculated, each strike meant to kill, not to score. She didn't watch the blade in her hand, nor the blade she aimed to parry. No—her eyes locked instead on Ezra's. Green. Bright. Smiling.

And that infuriating smile never faltered. Wednesday pressed harder, her footwork aggressive and precise. But she'd underestimated the werewolf. Ezra moved sharper, faster—her rhythm unpredictable, wild.

For a brief second, Wednesday nearly forgot herself, forgot fencing's discipline. Her blade darted forward for the attack, only to be swept aside by Ezra's foil.

The werewolf crouched, fluid as water, and in one swift motion touched the point of her blade gently to Wednesday's chest.

"Point 1-0."  the coach declared.

Ezra smiled again. But it wasn’t mocking, nor triumphant. It was something else—something Wednesday couldn't name.

She ignored it, of course. She had no interest in deciphering smiles. The second round began. Wednesday adjusted—more calculation, sharper senses, her mind narrowing to one outcome. And yet—again—Ezra’s blade kissed her stomach.

"Point 2-0."

The gym stirred, murmurs circling. Ezra tilted her head, eyes soft with amusement.

"Are you sure you want to continue, Addams? I can spare you the humiliation. It's not too late to—"

"An Addams does not back out," Wednesday cut in coldly. "Behave yourself, or I'll stitch your mouth shut with your own hair."

Ezra raised her hands in mock surrender, grin widening. "Okay. Your wish is my command, Cara Mia."

Wednesday's scowl deepened, but before she could retort, the coach cut their spar short with the call for the final round. They reset their stances. The air thickened, heavy with expectation. Wednesday could feel it—her hatred for losing pressing against her ribs like iron bars.

This time, she held back, letting Ezra attack first. She studied her movements, hungry to dissect and predict. But Ezra was unlike anything she'd faced. Her motions weren’t confined to fencing—too elaborate, too… alive. She moved like wind carrying a leaf, a brush guided by an unseen hand, improvising with impossible precision.

Warrior, dancer, traveler—each step both chaotic and perfect. Ezra didn't fight with a blade. She was the blade. And that was what enraged Wednesday most. She knew then—she was going to lose.

The crowd gasped as Wednesday faltered, finding herself cornered, Ezra's foil hovering at her face. A shallow cut was all it would take. A scar, just like Bianca had once carved into her.

But Ezra didn't strike. She froze, her weapon suspended inches from Wednesday’s skin, as though the thought of marring her face was unthinkable.

"Point 3-0," the coach said. Three rounds. Three losses. Humiliation burned hotter than any wound in Wednesday's very soul. Ezra withdrew her blade slowly, voice soft but carrying.

"I admit, seeing you in blood before—when you saved the school—it made you… more attractive. But I'll spare your face this time." Her smile softened into something almost reverent. "It's an honor to duel you, hero."

The gym buzzed with whispers, a tide of awe and disbelief. But Wednesday heard none of it. For the first time, she felt utterly defeated.

And—much to her own disgust—utterly amazed.

---

Wednesday never wallows. No. She never broods, either. Or sulks. Sure, she embarrassed herself today—but who cares? Certainly not Wednesday Addams.

"Why can't you accept you're defeated?" asked the disembodied hand at her side, drumming its fingers with a smug rhythm on the wooden desk.

The girl ignored him, eyes buried in the tome she had smuggled out of the Nightshade library. The book was a behemoth—its leather binding older than the school itself, its pages yellowed and brittle, smelling of mildew and blood-ink.

Every page bore diagrams of warriors long since turned to dust, their stances frozen in ink, their eyes painted with unblinking fury.

"I do accept it," Wednesday said tonelessly, though her grip tightened on the parchment until it nearly tore. "Say it again and I'll see to it that your precious sunscreen meets the same fate as heretics at the stake. I am not sulking. I am studying."

But she was sulking. And worse, she was fixated. The duel replayed itself behind her eyes with cruel precision—the way Ezra's footwork flowed like water, her strikes dancing between grace and savagery, her blade an extension of her body. No wasted motion, no hesitation. Perfect. Infuriatingly perfect.

Wednesday hated how her mind clung to it. To her.

The pack's howls split the night outside, deep and resonant, vibrating through the stone walls of Nevermore. Enid was with them, bones reshaping under the pull of the full moon. But when Wednesday's imagination reached into those woods, it wasn’t Enid she pictured under the silver glow.

It was Ezra—her spine arching, her body contorting as her veins lit with something feral. Her green eyes glowing too brightly. Her smile, sharp and lupine. The thought lodged in Wednesday's brain like a splinter.

Unwanted. Unshakable.

She pressed harder into her search, nearly ripping entire chapters free as her eyes raced across ink. Her small lamp pooled its weak yellow light onto the page, leaving the rest of the room to drown in shadow. And at last, there it was.

"Kendo," she whispered.

The word was a blade in her mouth. A style of warriors who moved with both ritual and bloodlust. She traced the illustrations with cold fingertips, memorizing each detail with obsessive hunger.

Then the storm outside grew teeth.

The wind clawed at the old windows, rattling them until the latch snapped free and the frame burst open with a bang. Papers lifted from the desk, spiraling into the air like startled birds.

Annoyance rose before alarm. Wednesday stood, her eyes rolling, ready to slam the window shut. But when her gaze flicked upward, her breath caught—not that she would ever admit it.

The moon hung full and swollen in the sky. But it was not pale.

It was bleeding.

The entire orb glowed crimson, its light spilling like liquid fire across the Nevermore grounds. Shadows stretched unnaturally long.

The courtyard gargoyles seemed to leer, their stone teeth glistening. The wind itself seemed to whisper, dragging something ancient and uninvited through the cracks of the school.

Wednesday's lamp flickered, once, twice—then steadied. Her black eyes, unblinking, stayed locked on the blood moon. And though she would never say it aloud, she felt it.

A shiver that wasn't from the wind. An omen.