★ Spookie
★ 21
★ she/her
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Requests are closed! Asks and requests are prioritized the same; the older it is, the higher it is on my priority list.
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Who I write for: Wednesday Addams, Alma Peregrine, Lenora Lesso, Andromache the Scythian
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If you wanna request something make sure they're open so you don't have to ask again. If requests are open and you need some ideas, you can use this
Prompt List. It's obviously not required <3
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Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem reader Contains: fluff, slight NSFW, has some headcannons relating to family Warnings: slight NSFW, dark themes
Word count: A/N: sorry for not posting a lot, what I post tends to depend on my hyperinflation at the time so idk why I bother trying to schedule projects (sorry for all who are waiting for more parts to "Love at First Bite,") i'm really trying to write for myself because that's the whole point of it. My work is always better that way anyways.
SWF
★ when it comes to physical affection, PDA, and things of that nature, I find that most people like to think that she's on one end of an extreme. Either she really hates it, but might tolerate it for her s/o, or she's like her father, always affectionate no matter who's watching.
★ to me it's seems more reasonable she'd be somewhere in between. She more than tolerates, maybe even enjoys physical affection when it comes to her s/o
★ it's a slow process, but eventually she warms up and is comfortable with more and more
★ but, I don't think she's fond of PDA. She's not used to being vonurable, and getting to see that softer side of her is a privilege she reserves only for her s/o.
★ besides, she wouldn't want people thinking she into all that lovey-dovey romantic stuff anyway. She's got a reputation to uphold after all— a reputation that might just survive the occasional hand holding.
★ pet names are mostly used more frequently in private, but she doesn't not use them in public either
★ she simply does not want to be that one couple that over uses terms of endearment to an obnoxious level (you know what I'm talking about)
★ some general pet names one might hear as her s/o would include: darling, mi amor, caro mio, and amore. Although, there's most definitely more that are specific to your personality
★ Quality time is very important to her. It doesn't matter what she's doing, she wants you there.
★ the best kind of quality time in her opinion, is when the both of you are in the same room working on different things. For example, she could be working on her novel while you're doing homework.
★ communication is key in a relationship with Wednesday
★ I don't know if you've SEEN her, but she's a little autistic and definitely won't pick up on ANYTHING you try to put down. Yes that includes flirting
★ the silent treatment? You must be stressed and need some time to yourself. Dropping obvious hints as to what she did wrong? Flies right over her head. Giving subtle clues that you like or dislike something? Why're you being so weird?
★ If she's done something wrong, you need to tell her what it is and why it upset you.
★ it might feel like you're in a mutual arrangement rather than a relationship, but ground rules, boundaries, likes and dislikes need to be verbally communicated
★ at the end of the day Wednesday does love you, she's just not used to that feeling, the vulnerability, and the softness of it all. Some days you might question this, and so may she,but neither of you can deny or ignore how her eyes soften when she looks at you, how her voice looses it's usual bite, and the small almost inexistent smile she gives you when the two of you are alone.
DARK
★ let's all get one thing straight, she's possessive not jealous
★ Wednesday had never, never cared what people think, she is better than everyone. Period. Why would she have any reason to be jealous? People should be jealous of her.
★ you're her's, and people should keep their hands, claws, fangs, and all other body parts off what's her's. Unless they'd like to loose a few of course.
★ don't misunderstand me, just because you're her's doesn't mean you can't do what you want. You're not a pet nor an object and she's not your owner, you simply belong to her. If that makes sense
★she'd also never blame you for someone else's idiotic behavior. You could never ever do anything wrong in her eyes. Why get upset with you when they were the one sticking their snout where it didn't belong?
★ your guy best friend is too touchy, trying to spend too much time with you, looked at you for too long? Depending on her mood when witnessing the offense, she might give them a warning, but I wouldn't count on it.
★ The punishment will always fit the crime.
★ spending too much time with you? She'll lock them somewhere dark for hours until she's decided they've learned their lesson. Too touchy? 3rd degree burns on their hands, and if it's a repeated offense, they might loose a finger. Looked at you for too long? Alcohol to their eyes.
★ I think she likes to mark you in more subtle ways, like with her lipstick and her scent
★ if you want a little more extreme markings, like bite marks or branding, you'll have to ask
NSFW
★ honestly, I don't think Wednesday is big on sex. It would require her to be far too vonurable for her comfort
★ thought, just because she's not big on it doesn't mean it's not a possibility
★ she definitely has to have been with you for about a year before that's on the table. It's not like a rule for her that she has to wait that long, that's just how long it'd most likely take for her to get comfortable enough
★ the first time you and Wednesday have sex, its pretty vanilla. You're both still figuring out what you like, and you're both probably pretty timid
★ eventually things will heat up and it will get less awkward and less vanilla
FAMILY
★ as we all know, Wednesday's relationship with her mother isn't great, and she doesn't seem to interact much with her father
★ when the two of you first start dating, she dreads the day she has to inform her parents
★ not because she's embarrassed of you or anything like that, she'd just rather pull off all her fingernails one by one than have to witness her parents fawn over you for half an hour
★ this applies mostly to Gomez, but Morticia would definitely be excited too
★ when she introduces you to them Gomez welcomes you to the family with open arms—literally. Wednesday has to snap at her father to release you from one of his bear hugs before you suffocate
★ Morticia is a little more reserved, a small "welcome to the family," along with some light questions is all you'll most likely get from her
★ she just wants to get to know who her daughter is dating before she decides you're officially apart of the family
★ Pugsley ultimately decides that his sister in a relationship is "gross," and keeps out of it as much as possible
Pairings: vampire!Lesso x fem!never!reader Trope(s): slow burn (ish), reincarnated lovers, soulmates Warnings: age gap (reader 19 lesso is a vampire so...), reader has sickle cell anemia, school is a college not a highschool so everyone is 18+ Word count: 1,600
Shout out to @hxzxrdous for helping come up with a lot of great ideas
Leonora Lesso has been the Dean of the School for Evil for hundreds of years—and she's been alive for hundreds more. Some question the decision to keep a potentially dangerous creature such as a vampire in charge of younger students, but the school master knew what he was doing. She wasn't just disciplined—centuries of existence had carved her into something colder, sharper, empty hearted. Her presence commanded attention—obedience. She didn't need to raise her voice to silence a room.
But it hadn't always been this way.
Once upon a time, she believed in all the principles she now despised: love, soulmates, happily ever after—the idea that love could endure anything, even death. Her heart was softer then, warmer—the fire stoked by someone she thought would never leave… until they were gone.
She begged, pleaded, cursed every God, every force of power she knew, but nothing could bring them back. It was made plainly clear to her that no fairytale magic would save her, save them.
No, happily ever after was not possible–love could not endure everything, especially death.
But some souls never truly die.
Some part of her, buried deep beneath centuries of discipline, still held onto a fragile hope: that the soul she had lost might one day return. Each year, she searched the faces of students–hoping, looking, waiting–for a familiar feeling. This year was no different.
Lesso’s eyes swept across the hall, new students pouring in from the lake. The great hall was enormous, with high vaulted ceilings that disappeared into shadow. The walls were dark and cold, decorated with faded banners bearing symbols. At the front of the hall, the schedule boards loomed tall—black slates inscribed with glowing runes that shifted and shimmered as if alive.
A sense of anxiety wrapped around her like a thick fog. It had been years since she’d felt this much anticipation at the arrival of new students. Usually, it was nothing. Usually, it was just a false alarm. But maybe this time, it would be something.
Her stomach tugged faintly—like a quiet voice trying to point out something she couldn’t see but could feel. If her heart could beat, it’d be racing. She scanned the sea of dripping cloaks and nervous faces, searching for a spark of recognition she’d been waiting for all these years.
But there was nothing. No flicker of the soul she longed to find. No sign, no pull, no familiar voice in the air that whispered her name.
She let out a long, bitter sigh.
“All that, just another false alarm”, she thought, irritation pricking under her skin. And yet, something felt… off.
You continue to frantically wring the water out of your hair and clothes. Wet hair and clothes meant you'd get cold, and you did not want to be cold. Out of all your triggers, the cold was one of the worst. You had sickle cell anemia, and you knew exactly what came next if your body temperature dropped too far. You’d already been kidnapped by a giant bird, which you were pretty sure counted as both physical and mental stress. Your arm and lower back already hurt, the sharp, stabbing pain a clear warning sign that your body was nearing its limit—and if you weren’t careful, it would only get worse.
You tried to slow your breathing, attempting to ground yourself like you'd been taught to. The hall was full of noise, footsteps, and voices, but it all felt far away, like you were underwater again. Everything was muffled and blurry. You couldn’t let yourself pass out. Not here. Not in front of all these strangers.
You looked around, trying to spot someone in charge—or at least someone who looked friendly. Most of the students seemed just as confused as you, but they looked like they fit here, like they belonged in a place with magic castles and creepy lakes. You didn’t.
You suppose this was your fault. You’d spent your whole life being treated like a fragile thing—wrapped in blankets, warned to stay inside, told not to push yourself too far. Everyone acted like you might shatter if the wind blew the wrong way—and honestly, you might. You couldn’t help but wish for a better life, a normal life. And now that you were here—wherever here was—you couldn’t help but wish you could take it all back.
You shifted your weight, wincing as pain shot down your spine. Everything was beginning to add up, taking its toll on your body. The cold, the physical exertion, the stress. You needed warmth, rest, and answers.
Your eyes swept the room again—this time more urgent. Time was ticking. That's when you saw her. A woman with bright red hair stood tall in the middle of the hall, her cold gaze sweeping over groups of students.
She wore a long dark grey coat, buttoned high at the waist. The front had two rows of buttons and wide lapels that framed her chest and shoulders. A silver chain hung neatly from her waist. Under the coat, she wore a crisp white shirt and a black tie, with white cuffs peeking out from beneath the tight sleeves. The bottom of the coat flared out slightly as she moved, almost like a skirt.
She held a cane more like a scepter than a tool, a quiet symbol of control. The cane had a curved, ivory-colored handle with a silver base and a smooth, dark wooden shaft.
Her eyes met yours. A beat passed. Just long enough to feel it—a faint tightening in your chest, like a memory trying to surface. You looked down, heart hammering, unsure why your stomach turned over like that. You told yourself it was just the stress. The cold. The pain.
But when you looked up again, she was already walking toward you, the steady tap of her cane echoing lightly against the stone floor. Her expression didn’t change—still composed, cool—but there was something behind her eyes, only you couldn't tell what.
You shifted your weight again, another sharp pain shooting down your spine. It slowed into a dull ache, a cruel reminder of the potentially harmful situation you were in.
She stopped just in front of you, and up close, there was something oddly familiar about the scent of her perfume. You tried to focus on anything but the pain wracking through your body, and the scent of amber and black berries coming off of her as she looked you up and down. She scowled as if she’d expect more.
"You're not well,” she stated firmly, not a question but an observation.
You nod.
Her eyes scanned your face again, but there was hesitation behind it. There was a flicker of something aside from the usual indifference in her eyes, like she wasn’t just checking for signs of illness. Like she was searching for something.
"Come,” she said, turning with a rustle of fabric.
She didn't check to see if you were following her as she walked, but her pace was slow so you could keep up, even with the pain. Her cane struck the ground in a measured rhythm as she moved. You followed, each step jarring but manageable.
Eventually, the two of you came to a room with soft beds, curtains drawn around them for privacy. A thin woman in moss-colored robes leaned against the counter, looking vaguely bored, as there were no other patients to keep her busy.
You'd been silent the whole way there, the woman's intimidating presence making you second guess yourself every time you opened your mouth to speak. But, you'd finally worked up the courage to speak.
“Where am I?” you asked, voice timid and unsure.
She glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised, giving you a look like you’d just asked the most obvious question in the world.
“The Infirmary,” she said flatly, then turned away again.
You blinked. That… wasn’t what you meant. A beat passed before you tried again.
“That’s not—”
She turned back to face you fully, cutting you off before you could finish.
“You’re the Reader,” she said, like it was a diagnosis.
“I read, if that’s what you—”
“Shh.” The sound was soft but sharp, a condescending hush like you were interrupting something important. Her expression didn’t change.
“It’s not,” Her voice was just a tad softer now. “Every so often, a lucky candidate from the outside gets selected for admission to this hallowed institution.”
She paused, scrutinizing you for a moment before resuming her explanation.
"We call them Readers because they only get to read about the amazing adventures that originate here.”
“Adventures?” You question lightly.“
Fairytales,” she replied. “Now sit,” she added, brandishing her cane toward a bed. “If you don't feel better by orientation, I'll have someone bring you your things and brief you on the handbook.”
And with that, she was gone.
Lesso's footsteps echoed on the stone floor, the tap of her cane loud in the otherwise quiet corridors. Hundreds of students passed through those halls every year, most ending up as insignificant shrubbery in the top percentile’s story. There was no reason this one should’ve stayed in her mind—especially a Reader, known for being underachievers who had wormed their way into a world they neither understood nor belonged in.
Lesso’s jaw tightened as she walked, her eyes fixed ahead, though her mind drifted elsewhere. There had been something about that girl, something she couldn’t place. It clawed at the back of her mind like a dream slipping away upon waking. Familiar—but not quite the same as it once was.
I've recently finished the first two books in the series and have a strong urge to write about it.
To summarize what I plan on doing without spoiling anything, I'm using the storyline and logistics mixed with movie character appearances. Agatha and Sofie are replaced with Y/N in a position similar to Agatha and (name that will be decided later in a poll) in Sofie's position. It's more of a fanfic series than an AU but because it's such a detailed one and there's a lot of mixing and matching from the book and movie I thought it sounded better that way.
The chances of you finding this post for Lady Lesso fics is 8/12 (all the tags I put on it) so I assume if you're reading this you know it's a Lady lesso x reader series, but if not you've been warned.
Storyline changes:
Y/N in the position of Agatha, gets dropped at the school for Evil due to her unconventional appearance and attitude, only to slowly realize she doesn't belong. She'd do horrible things, yes, but it all depended on the reason, the motive. To save a friend, to help someone you love, everything was on the table. She finds herself unable to understand the concept of pure evil and pure good. It can't just be about what we do, because that leaves out why we did it.
(name not decided) in the position on Sofie, gets dropped in the school for good due to her obviously princess worthy looks and sweet smile. But what is beauty on the outside if it doesn't translate to what's on the inside? She's vain and selfish, only doing good for her own gain. What she does is as good as can be, but why she does it is a different story.
Tedros might be more of a minor role, I'm either going to pair him with (name not decided) or Beatrix, depending on any feedback given on how you'd all like me to portray (name not decided) as that's more up for discussion.
Lady Lesso's character will be split pretty 50/50 between her book and movie versions, her role in the overall story holding more importance as she is Y/N's love interest.
Dovey will also be pretty 50/50, most likely leaning more towards the movie version.
Any suggestions and discussions are welcome! There is a lot that is not set in stone yet and I'd love feedback. If you want, name ideas are 100 percent welcome
