miss_nutcase (miss_nutcase) wrote in addamses,
miss_nutcase
miss_nutcase
addamses

Addams Family Drabbles

A/N: Well folks, since I'm such a huge procrastinator when it comes to fandom writing/drawing, I've decided to write a few drabbles based on one of my favorite movies; The Addams Family (1991 & 1993 starring Anjelica Houston and Raul Julia). All who love and appreciate the comics, cartoons, television series and movies are welcome to read these drabbles as all of the versions are relatively the same. Anyway, enjoy, my lovelies!
P.S: Flames shall be used to roast marshmallows.

She smiled at the well-rounded figure of a boy before her as she strapped him to the rack. With slow and appreciative deliberation, she carefully pushed the rough leather through the buckle and inserted the metal prong in the farthest hole possible. Which, needless to say, wasn't particularly far as the chubby body limited the capabilities of the strap. Wednesday wasn't too upset about it though, it would be no less painful and cause no less discomfort for the boy.
“Wednesday, hurry. Mom'll shout us down for dinner soon.”

A sideways smirk. “Mother's cooking scorpion pie and the tail has to be frozen and thawed to preserve the toxins. Dinner shall be quite some time yet.”

Pugsley's face cheered somewhat. “Oh.”

The model was a beautiful antique dating back to the Roman era. The handle was situated in the center of the left iron panel. Wednesday moved towards the handle and began to turn it. The model was beautiful, but it was dated and rusty, the chains screeched as they stretched against the shackles, pulling Pugsley's arms and legs. Deep in concentration, Wednesday barely noticed her braids falling over his face, the choppy ends tickling his nose.

Pugsley sniffled at the sensation and looked up at his older sibling. He noted how her cheeks pushed the skin up at her eyes, her brow knitted in the deepest of thought and the slightly comical way her tongue curved up around the side of her lip.
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He breathed in the musty scent of the graveyard, so damp and stale with a hint of fog. Gently taking his beloved one's deathly pale hand into his own and placing his other hand upon her hip, he began to sway with her to the distant music of Lurch's organ coming from the house. The waltz lasting for a few silent minutes until he slowly scoops her up at the back of her knees and carries her over to a stone sarcophagus, before setting her down on its cool surface. He barely has to speak at all, calling her by the name that only he is allowed to call her by.
“Cara mia...”

“Mon amour...”

Still silence until one strangely smooth, white hand cups his face, long red nails resting upon his cheek bones. Without any amount of pressure at all, the hand barely has to guide his face to her's, the mouths gently melding together, simpler than a two-piece-jigsaw, with more meaning than an ancient tribal code.
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The score for this particular piece was far from easy to come by. The search in the attic had taken decades, but he finally found it. Relief washed over him and he strided to his organ as fast as he could to play the piece, but he was still absolutely exhausted.

Large, meaty fingers pushed the keys at a reasonably steady pace until the exhaustion began to creep up his back, over his shoulder blades and deep into the muscles of his thick, chalky green neck.

A large, loud boom of notes sounded throughout the mansion, followed by the snores and unintelligible groans of one very sleepy Lurch.
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The single roller-blade skated as fast as its occupant could push it, skidding down the banisters and swooshing along the smooth, wooden floors, all around the house until finally a destination was reached. The roller-blade was then carelessly discarded for someone to trip up on and it's previous occupant rushed into the room, over the floorboards, over the rug, onto the chair and finally onto the side of the cradle.

Thing looked at the sleeping baby, all nestled into the covers, surrounded by a few uncuddly toys. Thing noticed that the thick blanket was smothering the boy, covering all of his breathing passages. Thing hopped into the cradle and gently pulled the blanket over the baby's entire head, making sure that there was no gaps. Patting his head through the blanket, Thing hopped back out of the cradle and scurried off to find his roller-blade.
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Silly and short, but hey, at least I done something ¬__¬'
Comments and reviews are always welcome.
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