This is a gender neutral x reader and no physical description is given of reader so hopefully more people can enjoy this!
Just a quick short oneshot to try and break the writers block!! No warnings!
TLDR: Slurp is just a puppy, reader reads gothic poetry and suffers the consequences of that, zombie on the lose, guilt blooms and a love confession from an unexpected (not really) place.
And Now:
The first thing you notice is the smell. The Hummer Shed smells like rot and decay apposed to the usual pollen and honey scent. Curiously, you open the door and peek inside, and there sits a figure curled up pitifully in the corner. You frown worried, you can't quite make out the person's face, nor if they are okay or not, “Hey? Hey, you okay?” You walk over and bend down, reaching for their shoulder when they suddenly whip around and lurch at you. You jerk back with a yelp, the teeth missing you by mere inches. Shuffling back, you take in who just tried to take a chomp out of you. It’s a zombie. A literal zombie. Like something out of The Walking Dead or some other rotting zombie media. You watch as the zombie groans and whines, curling back up into his corner, tugging at the chains pitifully. Your heart tugs at the sight; he’s more like a wounded and trapped animal than a monster. You bend down, still keeping a safe distance and soften your tone, “Hey… can you understand me?”
The zombie turns and tilts his head at you; one of his eyes is missing, and the other is milky white, with a faint pupil in the centre, but he can at least perceive you. You sigh softly, taking in his sorry state. It must be hell being dragged from death into a rotting body and decaying mind. You can’t imagine how he must feel, even if he can’t fully comprehend it; regardless, it is still not fair. You gently edge closer, “Hey… can I help? Can I get you anything?”
The zombie tilts his head at you like a confused puppy and groans. Finally, after a few false starts, he manages to get out, “Br….braaainsss.”
Honestly… you can’t even be surprised… this is a zombie after all. The zombie looks at you expectantly until you sigh and stand. “Fine… I’ll see what I can do…”.
Right after you turn to leave, you hear a clinking of chains followed by a pitiful groan. Pivoting back around to face the zombie, you realise he is suddenly in front of you, pulling the chain taut. Startled at the fact you didn’t even hear him rise or sneak up on you, you edge closer to the door before fleeing completely. Slamming the door closed with your body, you hear yet another soft groan and the chain rattling.
What have you gotten yourself into?
——————————————————————————————-
Regardless of the strangeness of this situation, you retrieve some bovine brains from the biology lab stores. You pray that the zombie does not actually crave human brains, as that’s just a little… problematic for everyone involved. Pushing the shed door open slowly, you peek in to see the zombie turning to face you again, that white eye locking onto you.
“Hey,… uh… man… i got you something to eat?’, you place the bundle onto the floor and gently push it over to him. The zombie's head tilts before his jaw unhinges, and he lurches at the brains. His body folds inwards as he kneels to feast. You observe him with horror and intrigue as he slurps up the brain matter. Once he finishes his meal, the zombie’s posture softens, and he seems more at ease. He laps at the gunk around his mouth and looks up at you, content.
——————————————————————————————-
And so you keep this little feeding routine up, sneaking the zombie bovine brains whenever you can. With each feeding, the zombie is calmer in your presence, even standing up and drawing close to you without snapping his teeth at you. His milk-white eye starts to clear, and a soft brown iris is visible that tracks your every movement from entering to leaving. With this calm disposition, you start bringing books to read to the zombie, a mixture of class set reading, poems and chapters from books.
It is during one of these reading sessions that something shifts.
You are finishing the short story when it happens.
“”Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed! - tear up the planks! - here, here! - it is the beating of his hideous heart!”” You read out to the zombie when you feel a tug at your sleeve. Your eyes drift to the side to see the zombie gently gnawing at your sleeve. Your heart rate rattled in your chest, until you noticed the gentleness of the gnaws, that he avoids touching your skin and even keeps eye contact with you, making soft rumbly sounds.
“Oh”, you start, “… is this a thank you?”
The zombie whines like a puppy and shuffles closer, gnawing with more intent. He waits for you to understand his meaning before he lets go of your sleeve and leans back, mouth trying to form words that he does not have a developed enough Boca’s area or vocal cords for. He moans in frustration and lashes out, tugging at his chains, making the wooden wall creak and splinter. You yelp and stand, moving away. The zombie pauses and looks up at you, his breath hitches, and he looks at you with something like pleading and yearning before you turn and leave quickly with the sound of the wooden wall groaning again. You flee, clutching your book of Edgar Allen Poe short stories, catching the sound of the zombie's faint whines, groans and hitching of breaths as you depart. You are far too rattled to return anytime soon….
—————————————————————————————-
And then the camping trip happens, and the zombie is carted away to Willow Hill. Guilt eats at you. Perhaps if you hadn’t fled and stopped bringing brains, maybe the zombie wouldn’t have lashed out and ATE SOMEONE.
You feel like a ghost haunting the halls of Nevermore during the lead up to the Gala. You attend to support your friends, but before the drama can start, you slip back off to the Hummer Shed and just stand in the same place the zombie occupied. When you try to remember him, you feel an extra sting of pain when you realise you didn’t even give him a name. You sigh and let your head thunk onto one of the wooden foundation poles.
The door creaks open behind you, “I’m sorry, Eugene, I’ll leave now. Just needed… a moment.”
A soft raspy voice comes from behind you, amusement clouding his tone, “Oh, I am not Eugene.”
You frown and turn to see a tall man dressed in a red and black suit with a matching mask; his hair is slicked back, and his brown eyes peek out from the shadow of his mask. A smile curves his mouth, and he steps forward, “Well, hello.”
You blink, “uh, hi… what’s up? After some…. Honey?”
The stranger in red and black’s eyes briefly flicker to the jars of honey as if noticing them for the first time, before his eyes lock back on you, “No… not honey.” His eyes are soft but intense. Familiar with that contradiction.
His hand reaches out and holds onto your sleeve before gently rubbing the fabric between his gloved fingers. Eyes locked onto your sleeve and the movement of his fingers before they drift up to your eyes, they look like they implore you. You blink owlishly at him, confused but not minding a handsome stranger being this close and focused solely on you. It is quite flattering, and as you open your mouth to ask if you can help this gentleman in any way, your mind jerks. The soft brown eyes, the quiet intensity, the touch, the closeness…. Familiar. Painfully familiar. A surprised wheeze slips out between your parted mouth, “Zombie?”
The man huffs once and grips your sleeves slightly tighter, “Yes, but it is Isaac. Please. Please call me Isaac.”
You nod once, “Right.. Isaac… nice to see you got… better?”
Isaac huffs at your awkward small talk and steps closer, “Yes, not rotting anymore. Thanks to you…” His voice softens at the end. You have no words, and after a weighted pause the zombi- Isaac starts up again, “I have come to find you. Come with me. Choose me. Please. No… no one ever has chosen me. You stayed with me when my mind wasn’t fully healed, and my consciousness was foggy, but you stayed. You cared. You read to me. You sat with ME”, his hand gripping your sleeve tightens, and Isaac’s eyes drop to it. “I tried to show you. Before. When I was still rotten but I couldn’t articulate it. I scared you off. But I am better now. I am the smartest student to ever attend Nevermore, and I don't need to chew your sleeve anymore to show that I want you. So come with me. Please.” He pinches your sleeve with his finger and thumb again, and his brown eyes stare at you with an intensity that demands an answer…
So, dear reader, what do you reply with to our dear Isaac Night?
⚠️: fluff, cuddling, making out, playful banter, honeymoon phase, Lucas is a sweetheart 💕 green flag boyfriend
part 1
You still think about it all the time.
That night was the best night of your life. Because of the events that unfolded, he had made the first move, and now your best friend was your boyfriend.
You both hold hands and give kisses on the cheek or temple in public, but prefer to keep your relationship between the two of you.
Whenever you sleep over - which happened more often now, because Lucas would ask you to - you would sleep in his bed, like that night. Your limbs entangled with his, as he gives kisses on your forehead.
You could stay like this all day.
While you spent time with Claire and do 'girl things', you made sure to have more time reserved for Lucas - mainly by spending more of that time in his room, though he made sure to take you on dates, even with his budget of 20 dollars.
He secretly works double shifts to scrape money just for your sake.
You knew that the Pierce's had their struggle with money, but they had something even better - Love.
"You don't need to spend money on me. I just want you." You told him.
You sat on his mattress as he went through his dresser to hunt for loose change. He didn't cease, his mind reeling over the one thing that he didn't have.
You stood up and grabbed his hands. "Luc, look at me." His sad doe eyes focus on you as you walk him toward the bed. "The best thing about you is that you care so deeply. Your situation has never bothered me; I knew what I was getting into. You are real, funny, and gentle."
You remind him of what you had said before he confessed to you. You only wanted to be with him, so to make him feel better - as he once admitted that he didn't feel worthy of you before you immediately removed his doubt - you gave him suggestions, "We can do 'poor man's dates', where we go on walks, and have picnics; or watch movies at a drive in, and have a 4 dollar burger and milkshake." You laugh, setting him off too.
The both of you were giggling, finding the situation hilarious.
He spoke in between his laugh, "Come here."
He takes you into his arms and holds you as the laughter dies down. You both sway in your embrace. His cheek grazed your temple, lifting his head over yours. He sealed a lingering kiss onto your head. "I love you." You murmured in his shoulder.
"I love you, baby."
You disliked that nickname. "Say love or darling instead, anything other than that."
"Sorry, darling baby." He smiled as you softly groaned. It quickly turned to a laugh through your nose, as you muttered, 'can't take you anywhere'.
Lucas, on the other hand, smiles as he takes his cap from the dresser - the strap resting above his hairline, secure on his curly locks, "Well, you don't need to, because I'm going to take you on a 'poor man's date' today. We shall make sandwiches and snacks as a picnic lunch, and we will go on a walk to a lovely spot, then come back to this spot for our cuddle session." He flaunts. You couldn't remember when you were this happy. Every time that you were, it was when you were with him.
Your arms wrap around his waist, "What a wonderful idea!" You jokingly praise. No matter whose idea it was - he was happy. He needed encouragement and support from you when he gets in his head, which you were more than happy to give. He always made sure to help you with your struggles.
You walk with him to the kitchen, and take out fillings for you sandwiches: meat, cheese, mustard, mayonnaise; peanut butter, jelly; and he begged you to not make tuna or egg salad.
"Come on, this isn't a sandwich factory." He kept stealing the tuna from you, lifting it out of your reach to put it away.
You badly attempt to climb on him like a jungle gym to get it. "People have different opinions, Lucas." You strain to reach his gangly arms.
He laughed, amused by your desperate attempts. "Yes, but I have to kiss you. And I will not if you make it, love - it's me or the fish." He teased you.
You ceased jumping. "An ultimatum, seriously? You know what I'll choose. Come here." He leans down to your reach.
You link your arms around his neck and his breath tickled your cheek as your lips meet. His tongue prodded your mouth, to which you parted in response. The wet muscle swirling around your teeth and dancing with your tongue. The mixed saliva smacking as your lips disconnect before he leaned more to chase your mouth, brushing against them as a peck.
You quickly grabbed and pulled the can from his hand, taking him by surprise and ran with it laughing through the hallway. He follows suite, quickly catching up to you. You look back, unvoluntarily screaming upon seeing him. From behind, he wraps his arms around your torso and lifts you off the ground. "Look at the slippery fish I caught." He joked. "Fish are friends, not food!" You quote, to which he made a good point, "says the girl who wants to make a sandwich out of one."
"How many sandwiches did we make?" You wondered. He set you down, but kept his arms around you.
"Four, but we also have snacks." His cheek resting on the side of your head.
You sigh, "It's your lucky day! I'll just have to eat it later."
---
You put the sandwiches in a lunchbox in Lucas' old backpack. He packs cheese crackers, cheese flavored, and sour cream and onion flavored chips, which you had a comment on;
"I can't eat fish, but you can eat onion chips?!"
He smiles, "One, they aren't that strong; two, you love them too." You roll your eyes, but smirk.
He put on the backpack as you fill water bottles with ice and water, giving him his, and holding yours.
You go out the kitchen door, and he lifts his snap back to adjust the brim side to shield his eyes from the sun before holding out his hand for you. As you walk through the doorway, you take his hand.
He guided you through the driveway to the forest. Through the grass you walk, paralleled to the line of evergreens. As you move closer to the woods, the grass changes to a dirt road.
Lucas guided you on the path. "I found this spot a few years ago. I just walked and walked, then the trail opened up to a beautiful spot. It was where I could go to be alone; but I want to share it with you." Your heart melted, leaning into him. "It sounds like a special place." You get sentimental, "Thank you for trusting me enough to show me your hiding spot."
The sediment in the dirt scrapes the bottom of his shoes; he kicks a rock from the path. "Yeah, well, if I was gonna show this to anyone, it would be the person I love most. You'd know where to find me if I'm not home. Besides, it'd be nice to have a private spot to ourselves." He brushed the sensitive spot in your back, making you flinch.
"Lucas!" You knock into him, using your body weight to shove him slightly.
After a ten minute walk through the woods, the trees stretched into a clearing ahead. There were patches of wildflowers growing in the overgrown grass. Over the years, Lucas had brought stuff from home. Off of the dirt path, two camping chairs sat next to a fire pit made with rocks, behind the chairs rested a faded hammock in between two trees, across from the hammock sat a small wooden storage trunk against several boulders.
Lucas kneeled down in front of the trunk to open the lid, while you explored the space. In your mind, you weighed which spot would be best to start the picnic: We could sit in the chairs and maybe start a fire, or we could squeeze on the hammock- no, we could sit on the ground, I guess, but the grass tickles my legs.
Lucas calls out your name. As you turn around, in the middle of the grass and flowers, lay a blanket with food items spread out.
___
Once the sky grows dimmer with the setting sun, the tiny twinkling specks of stars shine the dusk. It was a special place - completely separated from the chaos and instead bringing a serene peace.
You admire the painted sky - the light mixing with the dark with warmth.
A warmth spreads through you, his touch wrapping securely around you. Smiling, you look over at him; both of you witnessing the same beauty - his honey eyes rested on the view, the beauty that he admired.
He was looking at you.
"We should get back while there's still some daylight." He mentions.
"Should we?" You wondered. This place held something that made it difficult to leave.
He smiled, "We can always come back, I promise. I have spent some nights out here, and trust me, it's not very romantic." You let him lead you back, "It would be a good idea for next time to take flashlights and build a fire to make s'mores." He considered, and you perked up, making him chuckle.
The lights of the cabin drew you both like a moth to a flame. The sky grew darker as the sun dipped away.
He took you inside the house's warm lighting. The cool air contrasting with the inside unconsciously makes you sigh in relief. There was no time to think, as he brought you straight into his room, shutting the door first before taking his backpack off.
Lucas had an idea while you were distracted - coming from behind you he lifts you off the ground, and into his arms. Screaming with surprise, it quickly turns into a laugh.
He grunts like a caveman, "I claim as mine."
Bringing you to his bed, you sink into the tan and navy blue sheets. Your hand stays at the back of his neck, as he crawls to your side. His curled tuffs of hair feel soft on the pads of your fingers.
You shift under the covers, sighing at the warmth, Lucas turns his head in your direction. All of your attention is pulled to him, as you rolled to your side. His deep earthy eyes gaze fondly as a smile broke out.
"What?" You smile, unable to contain the infectious feeling he was emoting.
"It's -" He sighs, "It's been awhile since I've felt this happy." He admits.
You tut as you moved closer, "It's funny, how a person can mean so much to you - effect you."
He inhales as his eyes drag across your face, "I love you."
Your head lifts from the pillow as you look at him - processing his words. Shifting your weight, you cup his face as your lips met his.
His mouth moves with yours in a gentle softness, as his warm tongue wet your lips - parting them open as he deepens the kiss. His thin arms - made plush in his coat, wrap securely on your back as he cherishes your kiss.
He parted from you, ending the kiss with a caress of your cheek with the side of his face as he moved to rest his chin on your head, keeping you warm in his embrace.
As your breathing deepens, he did something that was unlike him - though that seemed a regular occurrence since you kissed for the first time - his heart held a plea, "let it be like this forever; don't take this beautiful thing that I've got."
Description: Hazel eyes, long dark brown hair *cut short for treatment (pictured)
Nevermore student (1988 - 1992)
Outcast - Psychic ability (Hawk)
Vampire *see report
Doctor's notes: Alys suffered a psychotic break regarding the disappearance of a student. She was found mumbling incoherent things and painful headaches that induce visions. The patient was committed to Willow Hill on January 6th, 1992.
Alys seems to have a particular fixation on the student that went missing in November 1991.
*Scheduled for treatment
Incident report: confidential
New story concept/teaser
(yes, oc is inspired by (basically) alice cullen) - I love her
What do you think? (I'm still working on it, so it'll take a while) okay, bye..
I think we should talk about the David Staller PotO more. I mean, I don’t consider it the best version, but it did very well on several aspects.
-Daroga
-Madame Giry was pretty good
-The music
-Erik is shown as pretty possessive while also including most of what phans like
-Erik’s face
-Daroga
-Raoul
-Carlotta was actually relatable
-The managers being just as petty and childish as they were in the book
-Erik was a proper prankster
-Christine. Just, all of her. I mean, she has a mind of her own here.
-Daroga
-The Masquerade scene
I feel like it is mostly just set aside as it is supposed to be more of a comedic version and the music is not as exceptional as the Andrew Lloyd Weber soundtrack. I just think it managed to more accurately portray the relationships between the characters than most of the other adaptations. I think it deserves more attention than I have seen it receive.
insane how just that little clip of fiyercrow struggling to find his balance was so endearing that it made me go “oh of COURSE dorothy immediately trusted and loved him”
⚠️: character deaths, mentions of blood, consuming blood (not isaac), brain eating zombie, obsessive behavior, manipulation, sexual tension (no smut), toxic/threatening behavior
"Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates design;
save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine."
It was under unfortunate circumstances where she was at the wrong place and at the wrong time. It was unfortunate because unbeknownst to her, she would cross paths with a brain eating zombie.
And no one would ever expect that.
A quick trip to Willow Hill would end in disaster. As y/n comes in monthly to donate blood, which helps in curing patients' maladies.
After all, she also gave blood to Eugene when he was attacked by Tyler.
It was certainly unfortunate because a schoolmate of hers infiltrated and disarmed the entire security system of the hospital, which caused a breach of all the patients.
Dr Fairburn guided the girl and Gus to her office. While locking themselves in, the doctor was attacked by the zombie. The girl attempted to stop the zombie by jumping on his back, which causes the zombie boy to struggle and throw her off of him. Her body slamming into a shelf. Her vision staggered as the zombie kept eating the doctor, as the girl lie dazed. She touched the back of her neck, where the base of her skull connected, and in her blotchy vision, she saw dark crimson liquid staining her fingers.
She weakly held herself up on the floor, as the zombie boy was facing her now. "Oh, poor thing." He breathed. "Nasty wound." He stalked towards her. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."
He grabbed her face and feasted on her brain. The pain lasting a split second, as his tongue pierced through her skull. Slurping her grey matter as her body relaxed. Her dull eyes stilled. The zombie places her body on the ground, facing toward Gus and the undead boy.
"I-" the paraplegic man stuttered.
He made quick work of him before leaving the room. There was a mirror that caught his attention, for a moment ago he was ghastly. Half dead, a rotting shell. Now, however, his skin was smooth and clear.
He was perfectly himself again.
He turned toward the office door, curious how staggering his recovery was. However baffled the boy was, he made his swift leave of Willow Hill.
She didn't know how long she was out, but she woke up on a metal table naked. Immediately, the girl knew she was in a morgue of some sort. Quickly, she got up and got out of there. She took a hospital gown and ran through town.
Jericho was the worst place to be as a vulnerable outcast. She ran to Nevermore. Wanting desperately to get into warm clothes and to hide from prying eyes.
For weeks, she wanted to forget that occurrence.
Though it was never that simple. He was out there somewhere. She wasn't stupid. She knew he would look human again. If he saw her, he would know the importance of her to his regeneration.
She looked forward to the dance. Something to take her mind off of it all. Eugene asked her as a friend, and she agreed.
The chandeliers were stunning, and she admired everyone's costume. Turning her head, she saw a boy in a red suit rounding a corner. The performance of Enid's dance was amazing. She applauded them, and Eugene asked her if they could get fresh air.
They both stood outside, and Pugsley solemnly stepped to them. On the balcony, a boy in a red costume watched them. The boy observed the young Addams boy carefully until he saw the girl remove her mask. His brown eyes followed her.
Pugsley walked away from the party, leaving the girl and the other boy alone. The boy went inside while she stayed.
The boy stared at her for a moment longer. The girl finally looked up and noticed him. He turned and slowly moved away to find Pugsley.
The boy sat on a step, looking at a moth that landed on his fingertip. Isaac greeted him and charmed him. Pugsley smiled at his friend before they heard a sweet voice calling out.
The girl called out to Pugsley, and instead a figure loomed behind her. "Hello again." A soft voice spoke.
She turned to see the boy unmasked. "You."
He smiled as she trembled. "How fascinating that I held you and tasted your beautiful brain; yet here you stand." He awed.
"Are you going to kill me again?" He circled her like a hungry shark.
He stopped behind her. His mouth grazes her ear, "No. Not if you behave like a good girl." He teased, grabbing a strand of her hair.
"Who are you?" He asked while positioning himself in front of her.
She kept her eyes on him. She could feel his charisma drip with an underlying intent. He would get what he wanted no matter what.
"Y/n." He repeated her name.
"You have an exceptional ability." He bent down and stood back up. He grabbed my wrist and dragged a sharp rock against my thenar near my palm. He watched as the blood flowed from the wound, then it healed itself, getting smaller. The boy wiped the excess blood, leaving no trace of the wound.
"Beautiful." He moaned.
I attempted to free my wrist from his grip. Which he let go. His brown eyes watched me for movement. His stare kept me frozen in my spot.
No wonder I got hurt so much.
"Can you use your power on others?" He asked.
"Yes." I answered. "I can heal physical wounds with a touch."
"What about internal? Sickness, for example?"
"Yes." I tell him.
"Y/n, I need your help."
"With what?"
"My sister. She is sick, coughing up blood, exhausted; if you heal her, I won't need to kill your friend Pugsley." He threatened.
"I'll just heal him back then." I fight. He tutted and put his hands on my face. "You won't be anywhere near him to do so. Besides, I am only asking a simple thing of you." He put his forehead onto my temple.
"Fine. I'll help you." She sighs.
"Such a good girl." He hummed, keeping his hand on her cheek for a few seconds longer before placing it at the small of her back.
He guided her with a steady grip to a car in the woods. Pugsley was tied up in the car with a woman and Tyler.
"Y/n?" Tyler said in surprise.
"It seems as though there's no room." He pulls her. "Not to worry, you can sit with me." She stumbles onto his lap. His hands splayed against you, holding you to him.
"Isaac, who is this lovely lady?" The woman wondered. Isaac. He answered her nonchalantly,
"She has volunteered to help us."
----
Isaac led the group into Iago Tower. With his powers, he lifted appliances and removed sheets. Isaac and the woman were at the machines. Tyler, Pugsley, and Y/n were by the chair.
"I'm sorry, she's my master." Tyler told her, as she begs him to stop locking Pugsley in.
"Your mom?" He nodded.
"Not the family reunion I hoped for." He mumbled.
The girl was pulled back by a strong force; she trips as she's lifted up and moved to Isaac, who wrapped his arm around her waist.
"If this is what you want, then please, let her heal you." He speaks to the older woman, before turning to the younger girl. "Heal her." Isaac ordered her.
"It's internal?" The woman nodded. The girl looked around. "Is there a sharp object?"
"Why?" The girl looked into his deep brown eyes.
"Internal wounds require my blood to heal." She explained.
Isaac led the girl to the record player and cut her with the sharp needle. Blood swelled over the cut. They went to his sister and directed her to consume her blood. The woman suckled on her bloody cut. "Will that be enough?" Isaac scoffed.
"Depending on the severity, small traces of my blood will heal her affected area. You were a rotting corpse. My brain healed you fully." He glared at you. "I can give her more." She sighed, cutting her hand again, deeper. The blood trailed down her wrist, and the woman licked a stripe where the blood dripped and sucked her palm.
"That should do it." The girl pulled her hand from the woman's mouth.
"Do what you promised." His sister said. "Please let him go." The girl pleaded. His sister held her in a comforting hold. Isaac lifted Tyler and tied him to the table.
"What are you doing!?" Tyler shouted.
"Leave him alone!" The girl yelled.
"It's for your own good, sweetie." Tyler's mom told him.
She turned to her. "If you love your son, stop this. He doesn't want this. He'll kill him!" I yell.
She stopped. "Isaac told me himself. Threatened me. That's why I agreed to help him. I was a last resort." She twisted the story.
"He knew this would kill you, so by having you 'sacrifice yourself' for your son, he could give you more time and get rid of your son."
Francoise bought it completely.
"Isaac, STOP!" She shouted. "Let him go. Now!"
Isaac pulled the lever, and Pugsley sent a current of electricity into Tyler's chest. The boy's screams were heartbreaking.
"Talk him out of it! I'll free Tyler." The woman told y/n.
She went off, and the girl went to the distraught male. His eyes were haunted.
"Isaac." The girl says it for the first time, and he watches her. "I know this is not what you wanted."
"I have to-"
"Why? Because she said so? What about what you want?"
"I just want her to be okay." His tone softens.
You place your hand over his - the one holding the lever.
"Please!" Tyler cried. "Kill me."
Isaac looks at her, "She ingested my blood. I know you know how potent it is; she'll be okay." Y/n comforted.
"She's still a hyde." He grumbles.
"and now you have more time with her; but this is not the way to do it." She pushes his hand to switch the machine off.
The current stopped. Tyler glared at his mother, and lurches forward as she attempts to untie him. She moves away from him.
Y/n comes over, and unlatches the cuffs instead. Tyler glanced up at her; his eyes shrinking back to normal.
The girl gently pulled him up and hugged him. He instantly accepts the hug, breathing her in.
He asked only to be 'some one,' like everybody else. But he was too ugly! And he had to hide his genius or use it to play tricks, when, with an ordinary face, he would have been one of the most distinguished of mankind! ...and, in the end, he had to content himself with a cellar.' - Gaston Leroux
'When everything feels like the movies, yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive.'
*cover of Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls
No y/n, Isaac has both hands and DaVinci powers, references to the phantom of the opera adaptations
Warnings: I just hope this idea outshines my average writing, possible grammar mistakes/ tense mistakes, I know very little about playing the violin (I looked up terminology, so sorry to all the violinists), facial deformity, obsession, toxic behavior, character death, manipulation, kidnapping, past!child abuse, mention of abusive parent, mentions of non-self-inflicted harm/cutting, happy ending
Word count: 3.6k
Dividers: @uzmacchiato
They would come after you.
Isaac took you in his arms and brought you to the tower. In the cold air of the tower, you come to your senses. Piece by piece, you sorted through the chaotic events of the past hour. Your big debut, ruined by a headmaster that gave you the ick; and the death of the same headmaster that gave you the ick.
Your mind spun.
Not only that, but the masked boy - who was once your guide and guardian angel, who you shared a deep bond with - was the one who orchestrated the death of said headmaster.
He stayed close to you, like he usually would.
But you now understood the reason - to prevent you from leaving.
He hated your apprehension towards him. He couldn't stand the thought of you looking at him like a loathsome beast. He needed you to see the depth of his love for you.
To prove that, he drops to his knees. Pleading his case, he clings onto your legs; which bunched up your skirt, "All that I've done, I did out of love." He attempts to persuade you. "I am not a bad man, love me, and you'll see. I'll be as gentle as a lamb, and you can do whatever you want with me."
Your eyes burned, pricking with tears. You exhaled, craning your head to the ceiling. He looks up to see your resistance; his slender hand reaches up to your arm as he stayed crouched within your legs, covered with the voluminous skirt.
"You promised." Isaac whispers. He called your name, "You said you would never hurt me." He rephrased your words; his hand caressing your dress.
You look at him, lying against you like a child clinging onto his mother's leg. At that moment, you wanted to forgive him, but he had to understand the consequences of his actions. His darkened eyes notice your attention, "You deceived me." Your voice rasps. His eyes widen in surprise as he slowly rises - but not to his full height. "You say you love me, yet you lure me away and hurt people - kill people."
"I had to." Isaac defended. "You didn't particularly like them."
That hit a nerve. "That's not fair. There's a difference between not liking someone and killing them." Isaac was silent.
"What can I do?" He voiced. It was laced with fear and desperation. He pleaded your name.
Honestly, you weren't sure. You were upset with him, but you could understand him.
"I don't know. I just need time." You answer.
He backed away from you. His eyes not quite reaching your face, "I'm sorry that I frightened you." And with that, he walked to a different part of the tower, leaving you be.
You spent the night without a peep from Isaac.
There was so much you didn't know about him. When you were together, he was never an open book about anything. But from what you did know, he held a dark past. His face was caused by something in his childhood. Whatever it was, he had suffered. The pain and loneliness fueling his actions. While you don't condone it, everything else that you know about him shone that.
For hours, you fought with yourself - the thought of leaving crossed your mind several times; you had every reason to - but something in you made you stay, despite what your mind told you. You told yourself that, you had every right to be mad. He didn't deserve your forgiveness, but then - you had done terrible things.
You were the reason your father died. You didn't deserve the second chance you got.
So, why shouldn't he?
The sun had not yet risen when you fell asleep. You didn't know when you fell asleep, but you were woken up by someone covering your mouth with their hand. Your eyes widened, finding no one there. In the dimly lit tower, the person gagging you appeared.
Agnes.
Placing your hand over hers, you sat up. She shushes you, before taking her hand away. "What are you doing here?" You kept your voice down, but that didn't diminish the harshness of your tone.
"Rescuing you, of course!" She softly explained. As you were attempting to say your piece, both girls were met by Enid. Her blonde hair fell down her shoulders in curls - from the previous hairstyle she had at the gala. They were in their casual clothes, while you still wore your ball gown.
"He's up the stairwell, Agnes." Enid informs. Agnes nods her head as she fades away into thin air. You didn't know what they were up to, but you had an inkling - and you didn't like it.
"What's going on, Enid?" Your voice questioning in suspicion.
She pulls you up onto your feet. "We haven't got much time. Agnes is going to distract that monster, and then we'll make our escape." You pull her arm back towards you.
"Escape?! You want me to leave without a word? No. I will not let someone make decisions for me." Her dark eyebrows crease in confusion.
"But he killed someone, and kidnapped you." She told you, as if you didn't know already. She had no idea the restless night you had trying to figure out the right thing to do. Because of them attempting to take the choice away from you - you made up your mind.
"I have seen his eyes, and I know his heart. He won't hurt me." I tell her, holding her hand. "He knows that I'm upset with him about it, and I thought of leaving, but I won't. Not until I talk with him first."
Enid's grey-blue eyes saddened, her pitying expression changed in attempt to persuade you, but it was quickly interrupted as both girls heard screaming from the second floor. A loud growl echoed from above, as the metal stairwell reverbed with consistent clanking.
Enid quickly rushes to grab onto you, as Agnes appears on the stairs, running toward you with a frightened expression on her face; both of them start pulling you toward the exit.
You cried out, alerting Isaac.
He followed where Agnes came from, his footsteps pounding on the metal.
His face - distorted and deformed, the face of death - caused the horrified screams of the two girls, yet only drew silent tears from you. He swipes his hand as he attacks the uninvited guests. You were brought down to the ground with the two girls he tripped; their hold still gripping you, helping you up. "As for you..." He spoke lowly before using his powers to strangle the small red-head.
She gasped before coughing, desperate for air. The zombie boy kept a steady grip with his telekinesis.
For it was war, now.
"Let her go, now. She's mine!" Isaac growled. Enid lets you go, baring her rainbow claws, and quickly moves toward him.
"ONE MORE STEP AND I SNAP HER NECK!" He shouted at them, making her stop in her tracks.
It terrified you. The anger. You had overcome his face, but this - this was uncharted territory.
He was going to kill her, so why did you feel for him still?
You knew he felt threatened; they were trying to take you from him.
You knew what you had to do.
Slowly, you stepped forward. Enid tried to stop you, but you motioned with your arm that you'll be okay. Isaac's dark eyes flickered to you.
His hand faltered slightly, the coldness in his eyes thawing. "Isaac, it's alright." You attempted. But he tensed his right hand, keeping the small red-head in his hold. For a moment, you froze, stopping at his agitation.
"No! You don't understand. I won't let them take you from me." You shook your head and attempted to focus on the real problem.
"They are not the problem, Isaac. They don't get to decide what I do, and you don't either."
You had enough of this. He needed to realize that his actions were nearing the point of no return, "Right now, you're proving to me what I hoped you weren't. Maybe I never knew you at all."
His hold on Agnes loosened, "I may have kept things from you, but I swear to you, you do know me. - I -" He says as you near him. "I've lost too much. I can't lose you too." He admits as you stop inches from him.
"Maybe I already have." He grumbles, as he let go of the girl. She coughed, gasping for air. His voice broke, "It wasn't worth hurting people, if that meant I would lose you. I was scared and stupid. I believed that you would save me from my solitude." He softly begs me, and you pitied him.
"Isaac - poor, unhappy, Isaac." You weep. Your hands touch his weathered cheeks. "God, give me courage to show you - you are not alone." You prayed, gathering your compassion for the poor spirit of Isaac.
You bring his face close as you lean in to close the gap; your lips enveloping his mouth. His eyes widened in shock, his right hand stiffened for a brief moment before dropping it to hold you. His eyes fluttering closed to melt in your kiss.
Your lips were soft against his, and he savored the warm affection you gave him; one that he had scarcely felt, which quickly faded as you broke the kiss. You had surprised him, though, by leaning into his torso, wrapping your arms in a secure hold. He was in shock; his mind processing this feeling of your love and compassion. You cradled the back of his head in your palm as his brown eyes shined, dripping down his cheeks - was his anger and pain. He silently wept the long nights of emptiness and loneliness. His life was taken from him by both fate and his father, yet he survived, but now he tasted life, love - that was what life is for.
He was overwhelmed with the hope you had given him.
His brown eyes never looked so blue as you looked at him. You held his cheek and cut off his tear trail. He looked at the two girls watching them. It pained him to do so, but he moved out of your hold.
He stepped toward them, pointing, "Forget all of what you've seen. Take the lift, and swear to me never to tell! The secret you know - go!" He told them. "Go, now!" He turned, his mind racing as did his heart. He looked back to them. "Go. Now! Go! Now and leave me!" He yelled out, rushing toward them.
They were gone. His chest heaved.
His breaths sharp as he calmed down.
He quickly turned and saw you standing there still. He smiled with his broken lips, before he spoke your name.
A shadow with dark braids passed behind him, coming out from her hiding place.
Wednesday held up an axe and swung.
"Isaac, look out!" You quickly yell.
He turned, and the axe came down and hit his shoulder. You cried out. She swung again at his chest as he flung the girl across the room before he fell backwards to the floor. Your dress swishing as you slid across the floor to break his fall, holding him in your arms.
He grunted in pain at every shallow breath.
"I love you." He forced out.
Your heart ached for him, sobbing, as you lean down to kiss him.
Looking down, you checked his wound. It cut his flesh, his clockwork heart grinding - dislodged from the cavity.
He gasped as you jostle it back in.
The wounds bled - deep and excruciating.
He would die from them, if not his heart.
He breathes in sharply; his body unconsciously shivering. His skin faded of color - which pooled from his chest and shoulder.
You had to do something, but what?
Your powers were useless; you couldn't even help your father.
Still, you needed to try.
"Please, don't take him. Give me strength." You prayed, taking deep breaths and splaying your hands on his chest.
You close your eyes and focus, looking within yourself to tap into your power - your music, your voice.
An ethereal melody passed your lips. Channeling your energy, you focus it on Isaac, and even more - your feelings for him. Suddenly, lyrics had appeared inside your mind:
"You are music, beautiful music, and you are light to me; oh you are music, moon beams of music, and you are life to me." Your voice cracked at the last bit as you sang.
Your right hand came up and pet his soft curls. You felt your love and energy leave your body and cast into him. You fell into him, leaning your head on his good shoulder, praying that something will happen.
You stayed like this, refusing to move or think. He was still and relaxed. His chest moved weakly.
You refused to move, waiting for your music to heal him. You moved your head to lie on his chest. Your hands stained red, as your face would now be.
His heart, like a metronome, consistently beating.
You waited, refusing to consider that your powers didn't work on him. You knew, you had felt it. It must have worked.
You needed it to work.
When he refused to let you go, you understood that now. You couldn't let him go either.
You cared too much.
A gentle touch warmed the back of your head. You moved your head before lifting yourself, meeting your eyes to his brown ones.
You couldn't believe it.
You lifted his bloodied jacket to inspect his wounds, and they healed to tiny cuts.
"It worked!" You cried in relief.
His hand gently slid to your blood-stained cheek. Your eyes lifted to the chocolate eyes that adored you - and that you loved so much.
His face - no longer mangled and ruined like a corpse, rather, his skin held softness and a healthy glow. His eyes were bright and warm, and his lips parted, making you glance at them; they were no longer ruined but pink and perfect. You held his face, rubbing the red off onto him. You dipped your head to brush your lips against his soft mouth.
You get up.
He follows your lead, holding out your arms to keep him steady. You keep an eye on him as he moves around the room, searching for his mask. He was too focused to notice you slowly following him. You follow him up the stairs, staying on the last step as he reaches for the discarded mask. Securely, he tied the black mask around his head, then turned - stopping with sight surprise to see you.
"I should show you something." You take his hand and lead him down the tower and through the halls, as he had led you through.
He helped you get to the corridor that led to the room that you barely stayed in during the break. You pulled him into the room and turned him to face the opening you walked through, which now closed and revealed the mirror.
"Music can heal the wounds that medicine can't touch. With my ability, I used my energy to heal your wounds. The more fatal the wounds, the more energy it requires, but I didn’t just heal your wounds." You tell him.
His brown eyed flicker to your frame in curiosity.
Once you reached for his face and touched the mask, his eyes widened as he realized what you were about to do. "No. No!" He begged as you took it off; his dark curls fell as the mask disturbed them.
"It's alright, Isaac. It's alright. See -" You comforted him with your words and held him as he glanced at his reflection - the one that made him want to break the glass every time he saw it - but this time, someone else was looking back at him.
He swallowed as he stared at the man who stood next to you. His face - and the face in the mirror contorted with sadness.
Your eyes widened with concern. "Isaac? What's wrong?" You squeeze his arm as he sobbed, his breath shuddering and whimpering as his body trembled.
He stepped closer to the mirror; his hand touched his own cheek, poking and prodding to ensure that it was real.
His memory played the vile acts of his father - the cold, lonely times of spending his days in bed whilst his skin was connected to tubing, his slow yet steady heartbeat being monitored. He hated doing nothing; boredom clung onto him like the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Days bedridden inside paled his skin as if he were an undead corpse. The nurses would hear of his questions and multiple attempts to go outside and see his sister.
That was his sunshine.
Though with her, meant their father as chaperone.
Francoise never told him, but he knew. He could see her pained expressions; bruising, no doubt. Just for existing.
Isaac wasn't safe either; his heart ached as the stress he suffered by using everything he had to protect Fran. He hated it - the limited amount of energy and time he had. He didn't want to be weak; he didn't want to be a burden on Fran - worrying about him at every stumble, every dizzy or fainting spell, not to mention the dramatically long hospital stays - just for getting ill.
In hospital, Fran would visit him every week. She would stay a few hours before he had to rest. He fell asleep while she was with him most days.
He remembered the searing pain of his blade -- the sharp pain that spread through his face, waking him up to complete darkness.
The monitor was turned off, and a figure stood over him.
His face burned, a scream ripped through his throat - something sharp touched his lip, his hands flailing, attempting to shove this person away.
But a force pushed him and held him down, "You're a disgrace" - that voice had his blood turn to ice.
"My son - weak, soft, who could love you now? At the sight of you, they'll pull the plug for sure. Then your monstrous sister will be locked up in Willow Hill where she will surely die-"
Isaac broke from his hold, resisting in anger.
He tasted his blood. 'How much damage did he do?'
His father fled, leaving him there to stew in agony. His voice raw from the screams stuck in his throat as he could only wait. His tears only irritated and made it more painful, which worsened the whimpering cries.
In the warm, comforting rays of sunlight, Isaac could nearly taste relief, only it was a taste that turned vile.
Once a nurse came in – her screams, the first of many – haunted him since.
They bandaged his face, but the cuts were too deep to heal - his top lip tattered and sliced off. He broke the glass upon seeing his monstrous face.
His mind caught up to the present as he continued to look at himself - his beautifully restored face - before flicking to you.
You watch him in worry as he moves close to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you with fervor. You inhaled his kiss, immediately melting into his salted lips. Your lips desperately sought his, smacking together, as he pulled away.
"I never been this happy in my life." His voice strained.
You held his face, carding your hands through his hair. "Never?" You echoed.
He sniffs, "Well, only when I'm with you." He admits with a chuckle. Your face nuzzles his face, and he glances at the mirror again, admiring his handsomeness. "I mean - how?" He turns back to you, flabbergasted.
"Music is my ability. I have always been a progeny in everything I tried, though I preferred the violin. But it's my voice that heals - I never could because I didn't know how. I couldn't save my father from dying, but you taught me to use my emotions to enrich my music; that was the key. Thank you." You look at him fondly.
He touched your cheek, "Thank you for saving my life, and unknowingly making me handsome."
"You were always handsome. Love made you handsome." He shook his head at that.
"It was 'love' that made me monstrous. As a child, I was overcome with sickness; my heart was fragile. It was my father who ruined my face. He despised me because I reminded him of my mother. He hoped that the pain of my face would kill me, but it didn't. The nurses screamed at my horrid face and wrapped it with bandages. The scars ran deep and never healed. It was that day I swore I would build a stronger heart."
You listened intently, your heart aching for his desolate past. You hated that he had to suffer that – but it made him stronger for it, whether out of spite or strength, he kept on going and it led to where you were now.
“And so you have, and you kept on living - surviving - even with your struggles.” You say, “and now?”
You watch him intently; he held you close, his metal heart pushing his blood quicker than before, “I’m not sure; I never thought there would be another way – that I would have a life beyond these gloomy walls. The only thing I do know is that want you in it.” His right hand cupping your left hand, lifting it to see the ring you still wear – his family insignia carved into the silver.
You watch, as he stares at your hand. Your mind searches for anything to say, yet nothing seemed right. Only encouraging him to speak his mind seemed best.
“Isaac?” You prompted. His cocoa eyes shifted from the ring to you and the white gown.
He scoffs, then giggled.
“It’s funny – seeing you standing in front of me as you are, looking like a bride. You could have anyone you want, someone so much better than I am.”
He attempts to move away, but you sandwich his hand between yours.
“I know you; I have seen your eyes, and I know your heart.” He wasn’t convinced at your words.
“I am a monster and a villain.”
He insisted.
“You are human. You have been broken and betrayed by the world and held onto hate, but you still love – and you want to be loved. You can start again as something different, and you don’t have to lose me.”
He looked at you with hesitancy and lingering doubt.
“Isaac -" You say,
“- I love you.” He silently stood there, as his body swayed.
“Are you sure?” his voice monotone, yet his guard slowly breaking down.
"Ive never been more sure. If I could want you as you were, I can certainly love you now."
He blinked, as he ripped his hand from you, turning away to rub his irritated eyes.
It was overwhelming.
You waited, watching him.
Through the ticking of the loud clock, a voice – as soft as a breath resonated in your ears.
“Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me – save me from - my solitude, say you’ll want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too -" He sang.
⚠️: fluff, cleaning a mud-covered zombie, violent themes (slight mention of gore/brain eating), hurt/comfort, side character death(s), manipulation, characters threatening reader, y/n used (but not too often), *possible writing mistakes, Isaac being an absolute sweetie to the reader, protective!Isaac, posessive!Isaac, gets a bit steamy at the end (no smut), Edited*
I was watching Lisa Frankenstein, and I kept thinking about Isaac the whole time. Let's be honest, who else thought that Pugsley x Slurp would be like Lisa x creature. So I'm writing this while watching the movie, and I'm loving it. ❤️
I was also inspired by a sketch of Isaac that I saw on tiktok. Credit to them is down below 😊
Y/n held a strong compulsion to be a loner. She felt different - lonely, even in a sea of her high school classmates.
Of course, she always dreamed of being with someone - but that required socializing. She preferred to hold conversations with no one who would judge her - her roommate and a bust of a young man who's been dead for thirty years.
The grave was cool too - in the woods stood a white tree that looked like a skull. It was a comfort to her to spend time there. She would either buy or pick flowers from the greenhouse or around these woods and place them on his resting place. She had brought her notebook many times and silently sketched him. It varied from copies of the bust and what he would have looked like if he were standing in front of her.
Y/n's roommate, Lily - she goes by the nickname 'Taffy' - never judges her, but voiced her concern with her friends and y/n's therapist about her fixation on the clockwork hearted boy legend.
Her therapist suggested that she should put herself out there and join a club or something.
So, she decided - to not do that.
But, she had conversations with Enid - to which the pink-haired girl did most of the talking - and Eugene started coming up to her because he wanted to get information on Enid, but also advice on how to talk to his new roommate.
"What does he do?" She asked.
Eugene pushes his glasses on his face, his eyes squinting as he thinks. "He mostly looks at my pets like their chocolate pudding. He's too clingy."
Y/n swishes her mouth with air, "First, ew, but he's an Addams, aren't they kooky anyway, what did you expect? Secondly, he's new, and looking for a friend. Try showing him what you like to do, and ask him about himself."
Eugene shifts in his spot, clearly uncomfortable about something; he blurts out, "Could you come with me? I need a buffer; I can't handle him by myself. He might like you; you're weird."
Her jaw moves, and in a totally not sarcastic tone, she says, "Gee, thanks." Her torso twists from side to side as she rocks herself. "I don't think I can. Besides, I have a date today that I can't miss." She excuses.
Eugene's eyebrows lift, "You never have dates. We can do it tomorrow if you want, but you are helping me." His tan hands clutch y/n's purple and black sleeve.
She bit her lip. "I guess tomorrow's fine then. If you don't mind, I'll need to visit someone I know, as well." She mutters, giving in. After all, the Addams' boy might like it.
__
"This is my roommate, Pugsley; Pugsley, this is my - person that I know, sort of, Y/n L/n." The bug boy greeted. Pugsley's eyes lit up as he shook the girl's hand.
"Didn't your mom get murdered by an axe murderer?" He asked, delighted, and she went slack.
"Yeah." Her voice monotone.
"-so! What do you guys wanna do?" Eugene steps in.
"I don't know, but I wanna know every detail of what happened!" The Latino boy said, turning back to his question.
Eugene grabs the both of them, pulling them out of the dorm room and down the hallway. "I've got a better idea! Why don't we go to the hummer's shed!" He lead the two teens to the wooden shack, with a badly painted bee on the front.
Eugene's voice filled the silence about his bees and the honey collecting process. Y/n stopped listening after: "The cool thing about honey making is -" And it seemed Pugsley wasn't all that interested either.
Her mind travels to the only place it ever seems to go, the Skull Tree. "Hey, I've gotta go.." She mumbles before leaving through the door.
The two boys turn to you, confused. "Where are you going?" She looked at Eugene then Pugsley.
"Remember what I told you? I have to visit someone." She reminded him.
The Addams boy stepped to you in curiosity, "Who are you seeing? Can I go?" He asked, obviously desperate to get away.
Every reason in your mind, everything in the girl wanted to say no, because he was yours. It was your special place, but you sympathized with him. "I suppose, but don't be weird about it, and don't tell anyone." She pleaded.
The two teens and a bummed Eugene walked from the shed to the woods away from campus. "I don't like this." The olive skinned boy squeaked while Pugsley and Y/n looked like they were taking a lovely stroll through the park. When the ominous tree loomed before them, Eugene barked out a 'No'. "I've heard about this place." His hands shook as he frantically dug in his pocket for his inhaler.
"Don't tell me you're scared?" The girl asked.
Eugene overtly gestured to the tree. "This is the 'person you know'? This is where the clockwork hearted boy lies!" Y/n held no expression that he would deem "normal" to him.
"I come here all the time. I clean his grave, and I talk to him." She explained.
"There's a dead kid here? Could we dig him up?!" Pugsley wondered.
Eugene; however, has a mild crisis, "Absolutely not! I don't wanna deal with worms and maggots, and he probably smells."
"He is handsome, though." Y/n sighs, while Pugsley asks, "Aren't you a bug lover?"
Eugene begins to walk away with his hand in surrender. While the other two stay there. "I kind of feel bad, but maybe he's right. It is kinda weird to like a dead person." The girl considers.
The Latino boy turns and immediately defends her, "I think it's cool! There's something calming about a graveyard. I think maybe you might be the only interesting person here, besides him." He points to the bust of the angular face of the boy who is currently rotting under their feet.
"Please, don't tell anyone about him. He means a lot to me." She explained. Pugsley smiles warmly at her. "Thanks. You're not so bad, Addams." She said.
She started to head back. "We should probably go. The pyre is gonna start soon, you coming?" Pugsley shook his head.
"I'll meet you there." She nodded as she left him alone, hoping he wasn't going to desecrate it.
Pugsley walked around the grave toward the bust. He was fairly good-looking, okay, he couldn't deny that he was extremely good-looking. "She really likes you. That's the only thing I know about her; I just met her today, but she's the first person I feel comfortable around. I'm glad you are that person for her." He spoke aloud to the spirit of the boy. He stepped to the tree, hearing a faint noise among the birds. He leaned his head in, and a ticking noise of his heart echoed a continuous beat.
In his clumsiness, Pugsley tripped on a root of mangled tree and hit the dirt-sealed grave. Taken aback, his hands surged with his powers, electrifying the ground, pulsing through the earth, and colliding with the corpse below.
A gloved hand plunges through the ground, clawing out of the darkness. Pugsley watches him rise up from the dirt with a smile. 'Y/n's gonna love this!'
___
He brings him to the shed for the night, tying him up so he wouldn't wander off; Eugene found him in the morning, and upon the undead boy reaching for him - the shaken boy ran out to find the two responsible for this.
He finds Pugsley first and demands an explanation. "I jumpstarted his clockwork heart by accident; it's a surprise for y/n." The Latino boy grinned.
Eugene gritted his teeth, "Well, get it out of my shed and put it in her room. It's your problem! Not mine!"
Pugsley sighed and went with him to the shed. A stench permeated the air as they stepped closer to the entrance. The zombie sat slouched in the corner. Waiting.
"Hey! I hope you had a good night. Eugene doesn't want you here, so I'll introduce you to someone who will love your company. You may know her; she's spent a lot of time with you. She doesn't know your alive yet, but it'll be fun!" The boy stood up at the mention of her.
With the rope in Pugsley's grasp, he guides the stumbling boy to the girls' dorms. They stop at the sign written with your name and her roommate's. "She's not here yet, but we can wait for her." The excitable boy states, opening your door.
__
You walk in with a towel around your shoulders, absorbing the dripping hair. Unbeknownst to you, the zombie boy sat at the corner of the bed. He intently, and somewhat bashfully, watches the girl.
You take the towel and wrung your damp locks. Then, in your peripherals, a dark figure stood by your bed. You screamed out, clinging to the desk. It frightened the boy, and he groaned through his unused throat.
"What?" You spoke as you breathe sharply. The mud-covered boy rigidly stepped towards you. In his fist, he opened it to reveal muddy wildflowers and a crumpled piece of paper.
You carefully pinched the paper, flattening out the creases. The image revealed to be your sketch of him. "You're him?" You gasped. "How?" Your voice sultry and wispy.
The boy responds with a low grunt, and you hummed. Talking may not be on his repertoire as a zombie.
"I guess it doesn't really matter now; the fact is that you're here!" You smile, touching his mucky coat. Your hand immediately stained with damp soil. "Oh, we should get you cleaned up."
__
You grab a bucket of water and a clean cloth to clear the chunks of earth off him so he won't clog the drain when he showers. You took care to make it warm for him. He watched you dip the cloth and squeeze out the extra water. Every time the warm cloth touched his face, his eyelids fluttered. As you wiped his skin, clutching the patches of dirt in his hair, picking out the clumps.
"I'll have to get you new clothes." You spoke while wringing out the cloth; the bucket of water quickly turned murky, and bits of soil floated at the top.
"What do you like to wear? Do you like cozy clothes?" He didn't respond. "Do you like nice dress clothes?" His head staggered, nodding.
Pugsley comes into your room, "There you are! I see you've met him. Can you believe it!" The girl looks at him confused.
"How do you know? How did this happen?" You asked, standing up. The rotting boy next to you, grabbing at your hand. You glanced at him from behind, taking his hand into yours.
"After you left, I tripped and landed on the ground; my powers surged uncontrollably from the fall, that I shocked the ground with my electricity, and - he came out of the ground." Pugsley explains.
'Well, that explains it.'
"You don't suppose we can come to your room to borrow some clothes?" You asked. Pugsley's face was bright.
"Of course you can, come on!" Pugsley motioned out the door.
The thought did cross your mind that it may prove a bad idea to roam around with a corpse in broad daylight. How Pugsley even got him up here unsuspecting in the first place, you may never know. Unfortunately, he was following you out. You turn around and hold his shoulders. "Maybe you should stay here. No one else should see you. You can take a shower while you wait, and if someone comes in, hide in my closet." The girl explained.
The boy growls angrily, grabbing at your hand, not liking the idea of being separated.
"Did you just growl at me?" Your tone firm. The corpse's head droops down, 'I'm sorry.'
"I just don't want to cause a panic and have you hunted. I'll be back soon. I promise." You comfort the boy; staring at his cheek, an urge flowed through you; compromising by kissing the tips of your fingers and transferring your kiss onto his cheek. Your fingers came back slightly dirty. "You should really take a shower, though."
With that, they leave the room with the unnamed boy still dazed by the kiss.
___
Y/n and Pugsley enter his dorm room. Eugene looks at them as they enter. "Please tell me you didn't bring that zombie!" His voice cracked, as he tensed.
She glances at the black and white striped boy. "He knows too?"
Pugsley dismisses it, "It's fine. He's in her room." He informed a tense Eugene.
"I guess your first impression didn't go so well?" Eugene pressed his lips into a line.
"It grabbed at me and tried to eat me!" Pugsley chuckles.
"No, he didn't!" The girl changes the subject by asking Pugsley to his closet. He led you to the drawer, and most of his clothes were black and white stripes. "What are you, a burglar? I don't think he can pull off this." She takes out a couple pairs of black pants and a black and white sweater. Closing the drawer, she nudges her head toward Eugene. "What about Mr. Anxiety over there?" She whispered. Pugsley shrugs. "Hey, bug boy, what kind of style do you have?" She asked.
"Well, it's kind of casual, but I have vests and sweaters. I have some fancier shirts, but - why do you ask?" He wondered. Obviously, it was for his least favorite monster in the world.
"Oh, no! You are not giving that walking pile of stench my nice clothes!" He shields his closet from the others.
"That is insensitive! What has he done to you?" Pugsley defended the absent boy.
"I told you, it attacked me!" Y/n sighs.
"I'll talk to him about it. If you want an apology, he can personally-" She was interrupted, "uh-uh, I never want to see that thing again!" Her blood boiled at his demeanor toward 'Sparky'.
"Fine; can you at least show me a couple of outfits?" Eugene shook his head, denying you again.
"I'll owe you a favor." She suggested.
He eventually spoke, "Anything?"
"Anything, but getting rid of him." She set a boundary, but he seemed pleased. He moved out of the way to open the door. The girl gave him a description of items to take out, from sweaters to dress shirts and some slacks. "These will do nicely." Eugene closed the closet, folding his hands together. "Alright, what do you want?" She asked.
"Not now, I think I'll save it for a rainy day."
The two teens leave with their pile of clothes, "Fine." She said, while leaving.
___
The dorm room was empty when they opened the door. "Good, she's not here." You sighed. Luckily, Taffy was more extroverted - spending most of her day at the various clubs or practices. She would only be in the room in the early morning and evening hours. So, your special friend will have to hide in the closet by then.
"We're back!" You announced, knocking on the door of the closet. "I've got clothes for you; did you shower?" He responded with a grunt and slightly opened the door. He hid behind it while he held out his pale bare arm. The base of his wrist had sealed over a wound; there was no hand, only a stump.
You draped a sweater and pants on his arm before he moved from the door and shut it. Pugsley left after setting down the clothes on your bed.
You wait as he groaned, and the constant thuds in your closet suggested his struggle to get the clothes on. "Would you like some help? It's just me, now." He grunted as he opened the door, stumbling out. His pants were on, but left unzipped and unbuttoned, and his shirt was on, but the buttons lay undone. His bare skin in between the gaps was pale and wrinkled. The girl zipped his pants up before moving onto his buttons. "Here we go." You whispered as you start buttoning the shirt from the bottom. "I suppose your fingers are still a bit stiff." You acknowledged; he responded with a rough sigh. "I know. I'm sorry; it must be hard, but I'm always here to help you. It's okay to need help sometimes."
You went up from the middle, toward the top. As you grabbed the lapels, something caught your attention. "What's that?" You muttered.
"May I?" Your eyes lifted to his, and he grunted, nodding. You lifted the shirt to the side to see a bronze piece of metal in the shape of a heart, moving. Gently, you caressed the edge of it. His throat vibrated. "It's beautiful." You glance at him, and his eyes were already all over you. "Did you make it?" He nodded.
"Wow." You breathe, flattening the shirt over his heart to button the rest. "Will you sit on the bed for me?" You asked. Stiffly, he obeys your request while you grab a hair brush. His hair, though straightened from the water, curled up at the ends. It seemed tame compared to the stone face, capturing voluminous curls.
"Let me brush your hair for you." You quickly sit across from him. Gently gliding the bristles through his dark hair. "The bust by your grave; it looks like you have curly hair." He nodded slightly in between his purring. Your hand held his head as the other tackled the snarls. "I can see that by the way it curls at the ends. I like curly hair; I know it's a pain to maintain it, but it always looks so soft!" He loudly exhaled through his nose. "What? Do I amuse you?" He bobbed his head.
You continue to brush his hair, "What was the bust for?" He hummed and grunted. For a moment, she forgot, "Sorry, yes or no questions."
She bit her lip as her eyes drifted to his chest. "You were an inventor?" He nodded. "So, you were probably a top student." A tiny noise came from his lips. He watches her with intrigue. He then points to her. "Me? Oh, I'm nothing special. Just an outcast of outcasts. I've never been fond of people; some are nice, but I just wanna be on my own. Everyone keeps telling me to be around people, but how can I when it mentally exhausts me." He looks at the girl with understanding, like he feels exactly the same. "You're not like them, though. I haven't said this many words in a row since - I don't even remember."
He rests his head on your shoulder; his semi-damp hair brushes your cheek. As it dries, you can see his hair curling into itself. Your hand lifts and rests on his curled locks.
"I was right; it is soft." You acknowledge before looking at the clock by the bed.
6:45 pm.
"My roommate will be back soon. You'll probably have to stay in the closet." He groans. "Maybe I can persuade her to stay with her friends for a while by being sick or something. Then you wouldn't need to hide." He motions to himself and bites the air. "What? No! You can't have her brain. She is one of the actually decent human beings on this planet. But I know you are probably hungry." He shows her his stump.
"I can't. I don't know how. I can't just get you new parts, I mean - you're a dead man, not a Chrysler LeBaron. Besides, it's a waste of time to try and fix a boy. It's better to just accept a guy's flaws."
He bites the air again. "Br-" his voice comes out. You shifted in your spot as he spoke again, "Bruh-"
"Do brains heal you?" You ask. "Clearly, because you are actually forming words now, or trying to." You slid off the bed, standing up. "Let's get you some brains then." You held out your hand. He grabbed it and followed you outside.
___
Through the halls, when a student passes by, you pull him toward the wall or turn him around. Taffy passes by on her way to the dorm and she notices you.
You call out, "I'll be back in a while, Taff, don't wait up!" You hear her quietly say, "That's my girl." As she heads toward the room.
He needed help down the stairs, and slowly, you guided him down one wobbly step at a time.
As you get to the steps of the entrance, students started flowing both in and out. To protect him, you pulled the sunken face of the boy toward yours, covering it as best you could with her hands. His arms wrap around your waist, waiting for the people to pass. He was leaning in more, desperate for contact, and the stench of death tickled your nostrils. His lips grazed over yours as your head turned to check, his lips place gentle pressure on your cheek. He pulls away, looking at you.
He huffs in mild disappointment. "Let's go." You whispered, pulling him toward the gate. Thunder rumbled in the sky as the rain fell in a heavy downpour, their hair dripping as you open the creaking gate. The warmth slowly seeping from your body as you reach for the boy. He pulled you along. It won't be long before the chill of the rain would give you a temperature.
Light had illuminated the droplets of the rain, as two headlights came from the dark, racing on the road. Your interlocked hands broke as he stepped in the road as the car sped through, colliding with the creature before the screech of the brakes echoed through the rainfall.
The girl gasped, horrified of the scene. You rushed over, but he was gone. The driver came out cringing. "What?" His high-pitched tone voiced his confusion and shock.
Behind him, the zombie attacked him. The man reached for you for help, but you let him consume the victim's brains.
You step toward him after he finishes slurping his food. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You clutched his biceps, more concerned with him being hit than him having grey noodles for dinner. His hand rests on your back. He seemed to be alright; being undead had its perks. Still, you hold him close as you both head back to your dorm. "We gotta be careful."
You dodge students back to the dorm, opening the door to your room. Neither of you thought of the possibility of the lights being on. You both walk in, and Taffy greeted you, "Hey, you alright? Where'd you -" she interrupted herself with a scream.
You look from Taffy to him, and he stalks toward the screaming girl, picking up something by the door and attacks her. You rush in between the two, and he stops mid swing.
"Don't hurt her! What is wrong with you?! Just go!" He looked at you with sad puppy eyes. "Leave and hope no one finds you!" You shout at him, whispering a soft, "please" to him. He stumbles out of the room; taking the object with him, and Taffy cries, freaking out from the danger; as you hold her in your arms. "It's alright, Taff, he's gone. He won't hurt you." You comforted her as she hyperventilates. "Just breathe."
"We should tell the sheriff." Taffy says after a while. "I will." You coax her. "You can go to sleep."
She looks at you with her dark chocolate eyes, "I don't think I can." She whispered. You hold her tighter, "Okay, then I'll stay up with you." She asks you to share her bed. You crawl in bed with her and cuddle. You had asked if you could turn the light off. She hesitated as if he would creep back in once it was dark. You turned on her bedside lamp before turning off the main room light. Your hand hovering over the switch as your eyes glance at the missing space, where your art trophy sat.
___
It had been several days since Lily saw your zombie boyfriend. The anxiousness gnawing you from the inside, hating the thought of how you yelled at him. It had to be done, but did it really? You just hoped that he would be safe and come back to you.
At night, when you're asleep, loud bangs pounded on your door, freaking you both out. You recognized his groan. You open the door, and upon seeing him, you grab him before he could come in, taking him to hide behind the outside of your door. "What was that?" Lily wondered anxiously.
In a calm voice, you told her, "Taffy, I need you to go to Bianca's room and spend the night there alright. Actually, tell her that you need to spend a week there."
"Why? What's going on?" She lifted the covers as she moved out of bed.
"My friend is sick, and they are here. I promised they could come and crash if they needed it, and I'll probably catch it while I take care of them, so maybe you should ask to stay in another dorm for two weeks." You explained, once again attempting to lengthen her absence, knowing that she hated getting sick. She had two rehearsals and a gala to help Bianca with.
"Babes, you know I can't get sick right now!" Taffy whined, "but it is sweet of you to help those in need." She grabbed her pillow.
You helped her pack a bag of her clothes and other items she needed.
"Okay, love you." She smiled, kissing your cheek.
"Let me know if you need anything." You tell her, watching her head toward Bianca's room before moving the door, revealing a more alive dead man. His skin still ghastly pale, and dark circles around his eyes, but he certainly looked better. Quickly, you ushered him in.
"You came back!"
He held your head and kissed your temple. He gingerly set your now fairly damaged and bloody trophy in its original spot. You sigh, "You've been busy, I see. I'll have to clean that and tell Taffy that I bumped into the table and dinged it." He hummed.
He looked at the mess of Taffy's side of the room. "I helped her pack a bag; she's gonna stay with a friend for a while, so you'll be safe."
You hold his jaw in your hand, studying him. "You look better. I suppose you ate well?" He nodded, still unable to speak. You let go of his face, finding his hand and pulling him across the room.
You both lie together on your bed as you talk to him. He watches you fall asleep, giving you a tender peck on your lips as your breathing deepens.
When you get up, he is not on the bed but on Lily's side of the room. You yawn, as you noticed he cleaned her side of the room. "Oh, thank you."
He comes over with an outfit.
You snicker, "Its cute, but that dress does not match your skin tone." You joke. He grunts, holding it up to you. For you. You cover his palm and push it down.
"That's not really my style." You tell him.
But he insisted.
"I hate dresses." You fought back.
He thrusted it toward you; his guttural grunts becoming impatient. You sigh, taking it. "Can I at least have a jacket and some tights?" He goes to her closet and grabs suitable items. Throwing them to you.
You awkwardly turn around, undressing and putting on under garments from your closet, and tights. The dress was a struggle. You couldn't find the opening of the skirt. There was only material. You found the large hole of where your shoulders and head would come out, but you didn't want to step through it like pants. It was snatched from your hands, as he took the material of the skirt and opened the space. He silently told you to lift your arms, and he slid the dress over you. He helped place the shoulder straps and the sleeves of the dress correctly. Fluffing the skirt out, which reached to your knees.
___
They say every cloud has a silver lining, but on this day, it was a tempest of darkness and doom. It was the dreaded time of the month where your stepmother arrived at Nevermore for a family session with your therapist, as scheduled with the previous Headmaster, professor Weems. You completely spaced due to the fact that the dead boy you were crushing on was resurrected a week ago. Unluckily, they came to the school to hold the meeting.
Y/n's stepmother was sweet yet carried an undertone of bitterness toward the therapist. At the end of your session, she adamantly insisted you show her your room. The therapist nudged you on and expecting her to drop her act and blow up once you were in private, as you brought her into the room.
Like clockwork, she threatened you with being admitted into Willow Hill and abused you with her poisoned tongue. Before your undead lover came out of your closet and bashed her head in.
The mental abuse, paired with the zombie you shared a bond with murdering your abuser, overstimulated you. As you process, he comforts you with a hug.
"What are we gonna do?" His tattered mouth lifts; he cups his hand around my head. He hovers his mouth over my forehead, and a gentle pressure touches my skin.
He looks at the dead body.
He slowly inches towards it, moving down to a crawl. A long dark tongue protrudes from his mouth and from the crack in her head, he pulls the two pieces apart, and sinking his teeth into her brain.
The girl watches in disgust, but randomly not surprised. "Well this is a problem." He wobbles while getting up, and standing close to you. "Thanks for getting rid of a piece of her, but we still have to bury the body." You tell him, and both of you stare at the desecrated corpse.
___
In the evening, after the RA came in during dorm checks, you and him went out with the body of your stepmother and he lead you to the skull tree. You wheeled the body covered in a blanket - the cart which you borrowed from the laundry room.
It was difficult getting it down the stairs and through the grass. He only wished that he had his powers right now so he could help you lift it, but sometimes that's how things are. He clutched the other side with his hand and helped you as best he could. Reaching the sunken ground by the bust of his face; he helped you tilt the laundry cart, dumping the body in.
"Is it peaceful down there?" You wondered. He turned to you and slowly shook his head. You inhaled and a smile appeared on your face. Your eyes caught the stone boy's. "Before you were brought back, I heard about your legend. I was incredibly lonely one day, when this one girl - Heather, she always wears the color red, and is part of the cheer team - she ripped my favorite drawing and put gum in my hair, among the many other stupidly cruel things she's done to me, and overall just a really mean person. This place made me feel better. Seeing your face comforted me because I know that I could always count on you to hear my ramblings." He saw through your smile, tears filled your eyes. He dug into his pocket and took out a cloth, before wiping your tears. You giggle, "I'm okay. I'm happy that you're here. It is slightly better than just talking to stone, though he's way more handsome."
He balled the cloth in your mouth in defiance. You pulled it out of your mouth as you smacked your tongue around your mouth, "I'm sure that my 'dearest' stepmother will finally do some good, and perhaps another that will get you back to your gorgeous self." You lift your hands to his cheeks and kiss his healed mouth. *Muah* "All right, come on before someone sees us."
___
In the early morning light, he left the room as you slept. He had his own mission; he was going to find this 'Heather' you spoke of.
Now that he's here, no one messes with you and gets away with it.
He looked through the framed pictures around the school, looking for the cheer club. He stopped at one - the fencing club - in the middle stood Morticia Frump, but his eyes were on the small brunette on the left. He sighed as he ripped his eyes away, continuing on for the cheer club.
91', 95', 00', 07', 15', -
He saw a familiar girl, your roommate, in the last picture on the wall. He looked through their names: Lily 'Taffy', Bronwyn 'Brownie', Stevie 'Marty', Emma 'M&M', Samantha, Heather-
His dark eyes glared at the pictured girl. He got his target, and now was the hunt.
A boy smacked into him and accused him to, 'watch where you're going, freak.' He was not in a merciful mood; he grabbed the boy and threw him in an empty janitorial closet and split open his head to slurp its contents, leaving the rest of him there to be cleaned up.
His gait was more fluid as he walked. In his clearer vision, his stump was healing. His fingers forming bones and torn flesh. One more would do it, and his next meal was on the list.
He spotted her in the quad, putting on red lipstick. He had to get her away from people; his brown eyes observed the boy who sat next to her, had a coffee. He looked at his right hand, the flesh broken, and bones peeked out from within the healing skin. He reached his mangled hand out, focusing his energy on the cup. He went further and thought of you, how that girl abused you. A burst of energy flicked from his hand to the cup, flying across the table and splashing hot, brown liquid onto Heather. A blood-curdling scream filled the quad, but he reveled in it.
While the boy next to her attempted to help, she smacked him and ran inside. He hid behind the doorway as she ran past. He lunges at her and cages her against the wall.
"Hello Heather." The boy spoke. She screamed. He gagged her mouth with his right hand; Shushing her. "I heard that you've been targeting my beloved. Y/n, you should know that, at least." His teeth clenched in a dark grin. Her eyes widened in realization. "Familiar? Good. Now, your pathetic little life will finally have a purpose." She made noise in his hand. She lifted it off, "Please, I won't bother her again!" He shook his head, "I think there is something you should know: You only possess the cliche tricks of an amateur, you really need to feed your brain and think up some decent ones; let me do it for you." He sneered, his tongue licking his lips.
___
The gala was today, and Taffy begged you to go in support for her, if anything else. She wanted to take you to the place she bought her ball gown.
"I am going to be your fairy god-sister, Babes. We will get you a killer gown!" She smiled. You supposed it wasn't a bad Idea, it would take your mind off of your 'boy toy' - as Lily puts it. Though the mere thought of that nickname made you want to curl inside of yourself. It was a vile, denigrating phrase for someone that didn't merely make you smile every time you thought of him, or that held your heart, but someone who made the world make sense.
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder', and in his absence, he occupied your mind. Hopefully, he would be back before the gala so he can avoid the crowd. Maybe, perhaps, he could be her date.
With that, she looked at dresses with her roommate, keeping him in mind.
___
At the gala, Y/n and Lily enter. Lily moves in her pink and white ballgown with blue accents, donning a blue mask. You wear your gown and mask, attempting to somehow find your man.
"You look hot, babes!" Taffy's eyes glance behind your shoulder. "I think you have an admirer." You feel a hand touch your shoulder; you turn to see a boy with his hair slicked back while wearing a black and red domino mask.
He silently offers his hand, and you take it. He brought you to the dance floor and danced with you. His gloved hands hold both your waist and your hand. His golden brown eyes never strayed from you. You keep up with his movements, following his steps, chasing him, as he holds you close. He took your other hand in his and moved you out and to his side, then out and into a spin.
When the music ended, he led you to a private area outside the gala. When you were alone, he lifted his mask over his head, holding it in his hand. The boy before you was the exact spinning image of the clockwork boy's bust. She couldn't help but touch him, her lips tilted upwards, "It's you!"
His pearly whites are revealed behind his lips, "It is." You are surprised by both his appearance and now his smooth voice. "I've got you something -" A pink tongue darts out from his lips as he reaches into his red coat pocket and holds out the red hair tie.
"Heather's-" you gasped.
"Though I try to find those with more nutrients, I couldn't help but stomach her." His voice low, that only you could hear. "Do you like it?" You nodded, biting your lip. "Good, because it's all for you, you know."
"What?"
"I was nothing, everything was dark and empty, then I heard your voice. It pulled me out of that darkness. It always made my day when you visited me. Even when you were quiet, I could feel you. Then I was brought back, and all I wanted was to be with you." He admitted.
"You want me?" He slowly nods. "You love me?" He pulls you close. "You killed Heather, for me? I could kiss you!" His honey eyes glistened, he grabbed your arm and took you to a more remote spot.
He cups your cheeks in his hands and closes the gap; waiting as his lips hover over yours. "May I?" He softly asks you.
Your eyes open; your hand finding his wrist, as you stared at him lovingly. "Yes." As soon as the word left your lips, it was stifled by his mouth. It moved against yours, in a sweet, intimate dance.
Your hand kept a hold of his wrist, while your other hand tentatively gripped his tamed curls. He growled in the kiss, pushing your back to the wall, making you gasp. He knew what he was doing and took the opportunity to slither his tongue into your mouth. You moan in his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck.
He broke the kiss before he went any further and took the red scrunchie.
His warm brown sugar eyes roamed your face. "Do you, Y/n, promise to be mine?" He asked.
"I will." He tied the scrunchie onto your finger.
"And, do you - "
"Isaac."
"Isaac," you repeated with a smile, and he reciprocated the smile, "will you promise to be mine as well?"
"There's no one else that I'd rather have."
Dividers: @pepsipoet
Drawing reference:
Credit to taryn_platt_ @tarynplatt *just found your Tumblr blog
Lily/Taffy's dress:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this one. Like, comment, reblog if you like. I appreciate it.
