Klown❔️ @xoxkandyklownxox - Tumblr Blog

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Series summary: Ever since you were a child, you had dreams of a constant ticking sound and a raven-haired boy, who seemed to be lost in the constant madness of his mind. You always thought they were nothing more than dreams. That is until your brother digs up a zombie and you first learn about Isaac Night.

Pairing: Isaac Night x Addams!Reader

Word count: 2318 words

Series warnings: Reader is an Addams, you have psychic abilities (prophetic dreams), obsession, zombie things, brain eating, blood, violence, mystery, slow burn (?), falling in love, romance, eventual smut, canon divergence, no mention of Y/N, more will be added later

Notes: I decided to make this a series! I hope that’s fine for y’all and I hope you’ll enjoy this prologue 🖤 English isn’t my first language.

Prologue: Alone

As a member of the Addams Family, you were used to being a alone. As Gomez and Morticia's first child, you were accustomed to not having many friends and spending your days on your own. But you had dreams.

In every dream, you saw a boy with dark, curly hair and pale skin and heard the constant ticking of a clockwork. The situation always varied. Sometimes you saw him lying alone in a hospital bed, silently scribbling ideas on paper, but sometimes you also saw him sitting on the floor in a dark room while a brown-haired girl excitedly told him something.

Your dreams about this boy became your constant companion, your closest friend, and what you looked forward to most each day. He aged with you, because the older you got, the older the strange boy became too.

When you told your parents about these dreams one day, they became as quiet as mice and as still as a stone. Morticia's gaze hardened, Gomez's turned almost sad, and you realized then that your parents had been keeping something from you. A secret that you were now keeping alive— and it terrified them.

Summer vacation was over, and another school year at Nevermore Academy had begun. The car ride to school had been quiet and tense. The most interesting moment had been when your younger sister, Wednesday, had pressured your little brother, Pugsley, into hitting the center of a street sign with his lightning powers.

Pugsley's powers had only recently awakened, and you had discovered that he had inherited the same lightning abilities as your Uncle Fester. Wednesday was a raven, like your grandmother, which meant she had bad visions of the future, but they brightened her day. During the holidays, she had even used them to solve a serial killer case. Your abilities, however, were… different. You weren't a raven with bad visions of the future, and you weren't a dove with good visions either. You were different. You had dreams. According to your grandmother and the books you read, that meant you were a swan.

Swans were extremely rare among psychics, and equally rare in your bloodline. Hester said that her paternal grandmother had also been a swan, and that her dreams had always told her what to do. You didn't. When you told her you were dreaming about a boy, she had just sighed and said you were as soft as your mother. That was the end of the conversation. Wednesday had always been her favorite grandchild, but at least she had promised you her antique furniture. It was something, at least.

At eighteen, you were now in your senior year, while your siblings still had a few years to go. You didn't yet know what you wanted to do after school. You didn't yet know where you belonged in the world. The only thing you knew for sure was that you wanted to find out who the lonely boy from your dreams was.

You didn't know his name or his story, but your recent dreams gave you more insight into his life and his secrets. You knew he had a laboratory high up in Iago Tower, and now that you were back, you wanted to explore it.

Wednesday disappeared in the other direction to go to her room and give her best friend Enid her present— a creepy, macabre doll—, Pugsley was being shown around the school, and your parents headed off to Rotwood Cottage near the school. You were alone once more.

But just as you turned to walk toward the giant shadow that belonged to Iago Tower, you were unfortunately approached by the new headmaster, Dort: “Ah, good morning, Miss Addams! The first, of course. I wanted to introduce myself, as you're a rarity even among us Outcasts!”

His loud voice, his broad smile, and his feigned friendliness disgusted you, and you merely returned it with a forced smile of your own. You hated it when people were friendly in such a fake way. There was definitely something wrong with this man, but that wasn't the mystery you wanted to explore this year. Perhaps Wednesday would? "Thank you."

The older man nodded, though you could see in his eyes that he didn't seem particularly pleased that you hadn't returned his kindness. "Tonight, I'll be honoring your sister, the savior of Nevermore. We had a painting commissioned especially for her, and I'm sure she'd be pleased to see her older sister on stage as well, wouldn't she?"

You shook your head slightly, but since you didn't want to start the new school year with an argument with the headmaster, you decided to switch to a different tactic and use your charm, which you had inherited from your mother.

"Forgive me, Headmaster Dort, but Wednesday most likely wouldn't want me there. She hates being the center of attention, and she hates not being the oldest sibling."

"I see. But perhaps you could still come to the festivities, wouldn't you? At least keep your brother company. Us Outcasts should stick together," Dort said, sounding overly friendly again.

"That's very kind of you. I'll think about it," you smiled, then turned to attend to your own business. You already knew that this celebration for your little sister would be absolute hell. At the same time, you hoped that Pugsley would make friends here. He was very similar to you in some ways, and you knew about his desire to make many friends. You had had that wish too, but unfortunately, it hadn't worked out for you. Not in the way most wanted.

The only friend you had was waiting for you every night in your dreams.

The iron elevator that took you to the top of Iago Tower creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended. Little light filtered in through the broken windows, and it was cold. Dust covered the floor, and most of the abandoned belongings had been draped with white sheets, so that time would not catch up with them. Time seemed to stand still in this place.

Your footsteps were soft as you looked around, your gaze sweeping over every inch of the former laboratory. You had seen it again and again in your dreams, the boy whose name you didn't know having spent countless hours here. He had been a scientist, a genius. Over the years, you had learned so much about him, and yet you knew absolutely nothing. It frustrated you, saddened you, and you longed to one day know who he was and if he was still alive. You wanted to speak with him and understand why your psychic abilities were bound to him. This mystery would keep many awake at night, but you loved sleeping because it meant being together with him in a way.

He never heard you, never spoke to you, never touched you, never even looked at you, yet you felt most at home when you heard his voice muttering facts about physics.

Your hand gently slid over the metal surface of an old control console, and you looked up at the ceiling where something had apparently once hung. The answer to that was lost in the past. Oh, you wished you had been there when he came and set all this up.

You continued walking, fascination shimmering in your eyes, until you suddenly saw a dark brown stain on the floor. There was also a splash on the nearest control console, and you slowly understood what it was— dried blood. Something had happened here. Something terrible, something you hadn't seen in your dreams before. You knelt on the ground and examined the stain. It looked as if someone had suffered a large injury, but considering the diameter of the blood stain it didn't seem large enough to have killed them. What had happened? Had the boy hurt someone, or was he the one who had been hurt?

Hopefully, your dreams would soon bring you some answers.

While Wednesday crawled under a blazing fire that evening, once again the center of attention of the entire school, and Pugsley found a new obsession, you lay in your bed, closing your eyes in the hope of hearing a familiar voice.

It was dark. Moonlight fell upon you as you opened your eyes in a wooded area. You were wearing your nightgown and had no recollection of how you had gotten there, which meant you must have been dreaming. A chill spread through you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself for warmth. A light breeze made your hair flutter, and you quickly realized you'd never been here before. A large tree cast a shadow over you, its bark as black as night and its branches bare. Carved into its bark was the face of a skull, or perhaps the tree had grown that way naturally. You turned once, bewildered, trying to find the one who never left you alone, but you couldn't see him anywhere. You were alone.

Suddenly, you heard the ticking of a clock behind you. You knew that sound, because it belonged to him. It belonged to the heart within his chest. His own heart had never been strong enough to keep pace with his brilliant mind, so he had needed a new one, a better one. He had designed it himself as a child. In a dream, when you yourself were but a child, you even witnessed him working on it a few times while you sat on the edge of his bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you couldn't. Every time you tried to touch him, to give him strength, your hand simply slipped ghostlike through him. Of course, it made sense, since you were never there at that specific time, but even so, it sometimes hurt not to be able to show him that he mattered to you.

You turned around, your bare feet brushing over the dew-covered grass, but there was no one behind you. The ticking was coming from the tree trunk.

You cautiously approached it and pressed your ear against the bark to confirm your suspicion, and sure enough— tick, tick, tick. The ticking of his clockwork heart was coming from the Skull Tree!

But suddenly, as you were about to investigate further, a hand burst from the ground and grabbed your ankle. A terrified scream escaped your lips, and you fell backward to the ground. Your white nightgown was soiled with dirt, your long, raven-black hair was wild, and you desperately tried to free the hand gripping your ankle by kicking in the air.

"No, stop! Let me go!" you screamed into the night. You had clung to the faint hope that the curly-haired boy would rescue you, but instead, you watched helplessly as something pushed its way out of the earth.

The ticking grew louder, a grunt and a croak echoed through the night, and you found yourself looking into the eyes of a zombie. But instead of attacking you, it reached out its other arm toward you, as if pleading for help. Like he was searching something.

You looked at him, frightened, but your curiosity compelled you to reach out your hand. Just before your fingers could touch the fabric of his dirt-covered clothes, you awoke.

You jolted awake in your bed, breathing heavily, a thin film of sweat covering your forehead, your fingers trembling. Your room was so dark you could barely see, and you had to calm your wildly pounding heart. This dream had been different from all the ones you'd had before. Without the boy, it felt so empty and cold. A thousand questions swirled through your mind— Why was that ticking coming from the skull tree? And why was there a goddamn zombie?

An urgent knock at your door made you jump. You threw off the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your bare feet touching the wooden floor. Your nightgown flapped around your legs as you walked to the door. You could barely see it in the darkness, but you knew approximately where it was.

You didn't notice the stains on the white fabric covering you— dirt and earth. As if you had really been there.

Another knock sounded, but this time it was a little louder. Not wanting this person— whoever it was— to wake up the whole hallway, you quickly flung open the door and looked into the pale face of your little brother, Pugsley, his eyes shining brighter than you had ever seen. They usually only shone like that when your father had him strapped to a torturing device.

"Pugsley? What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night," you said, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Yes, I know, but it's really urgent," he insisted, running past you and into your room. You let the door close behind him, even though you'd much rather be alone.

"Fine! What is it? What have you done now?" you asked him, crossing your arms. "Don't tell me it has anything to do with Wednesday."

He shook his head. "No, it doesn't. I... I've made a friend."

Confusion spread across your face, and you looked at him as if he'd just told you he was sick of torture. "And you had to tell me that now? In the middle of the night?"

The boy sighed. "You don't understand! Let me finish, okay?"

You nodded, but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next, a chill running down your spine immediately after.

"I dug up a zombie."

The dividers are from @uzmacchiato !

Series Taglist: @ghostbustersfan10 @artistadistrada2002 @dapresso-espresso @doorknobhater @coffeelover4life @jiminie-08

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🫶