Nevermore Academy has a chart. Here’s what it says.
By Gina, GinaStars
The Wednesday Netflix series works because it understands something that most shows aimed at its audience don’t: teenagers are not one thing. Nevermore Academy is full of people who are specific — specific in their fears, their desires, their particular flavor of being strange in a world that hasn’t figured out what to do with strange people yet. That specificity is what makes the zodiac mapping so precise.
These aren’t generic archetypes. They’re characters with real psychological texture, and that texture lines up with sign energy in ways that are genuinely illuminating — both about the characters and about what it means to be the sign in question.
Wednesday Addams — Scorpio
Wednesday is Scorpio in its purest and most uncompromising form. She is not performing darkness — she is genuinely oriented toward what most people avoid. Death, decay, the mechanisms of crime, the psychological underpinnings of human behavior, the truth underneath the comfortable surface of things. These are not affectations. They’re the natural direction of her curiosity.
The Scorpio qualities in Wednesday are precise: the strategic intelligence that reads everyone in a room immediately and completely, the privacy about her own inner world that stands in stark contrast to how clearly she sees everyone else’s, the loyalty that is absolute once earned and completely absent until it is, and the intensity that makes her simultaneously the most compelling and the most exhausting person in any given space.
Wednesday also demonstrates the Scorpio relationship with control. She doesn’t like being surprised from the outside because surprise means something got past her perimeter. The visions are the one thing she can’t fully control, which is why they unsettle her — not because they’re dark, Wednesday is entirely comfortable with dark, but because they arrive without her permission.
The Scorpio shadow in Wednesday is the isolation that results from making genuine vulnerability feel impossible. She cares about Enid. She cares about her family. She cares about solving the mystery because the solving is a form of caring for the people the monster is threatening. The caring is real. The expression of it is something she’s still figuring out, partly because Scorpio builds such effective walls that eventually the walls keep out the people who should be inside.
If you’re the Wednesday of your group: you see people clearly and you say so with a directness that people find either clarifying or devastating depending on where they’re standing. You have more feelings than your face suggests. The people who have actually gotten past your exterior know this and keep it to themselves because you’d find it intolerable if they didn’t.
Enid Sinclair — Sagittarius
Enid is sunshine and enthusiasm and the genuine belief that things will work out and that people are fundamentally worth engaging with, delivered at a volume that Wednesday finds physiologically challenging. She is the Sagittarius who has not yet been disappointed enough to become guarded, which makes her both exhausting to Wednesday and exactly the thing Wednesday needed.
The Sagittarius qualities in Enid are the warmth and the optimism but also — and this is the part that distinguishes her from just being relentlessly cheerful — the genuine courage. Enid’s wolf won’t come. She’s been unable to transform in a school full of people for whom transformation is the baseline, and she maintains her warmth and her engagement and her capacity for joy through that difficulty in a way that’s genuinely admirable rather than just perky.
The Enid-Wednesday dynamic is one of the most astrologically accurate roommate pairings in recent television. Sagittarius and Scorpio drive each other insane for the same reason they need each other: Sagittarius can’t understand why Scorpio won’t just say what they feel, and Scorpio can’t understand why Sagittarius says everything they feel immediately without appearing to consider the consequences. Both approaches have serious limitations. Together they’re more complete than either alone.
Enid’s transformation at the end of season one is also deeply Sagittarius — it arrives not when she tries hardest but when she stops trying and acts on something that matters more than the trying. The freedom of the action is what releases the transformation. Sagittarius frequently works this way.
If you’re the Enid of your group: you are genuinely warm and people rely on that warmth more than they tell you. You’ve been told you’re too much. You are not too much. You’re too much for certain people and exactly right for others, and learning to tell the difference is the work.
Xavier Thorpe — Pisces
Xavier is the gifted one who can’t quite control the gift, whose art produces things he didn’t consciously choose to put there, whose emotional world is more complex than his social presentation manages to convey, and who is drawn to Wednesday specifically because she’s one of the few people who engages with him as the specific person he is rather than as the version of himself that’s easier to deal with.
The Pisces qualities in Xavier are the creative gift that connects to something beyond ordinary consciousness, the emotional sensitivity that he doesn’t always know what to do with, and the tendency to absorb the emotional atmosphere around him in ways that affect him whether he wants them to or not. His art is Pisces art — it comes from somewhere he doesn’t fully have access to and arrives already meaningful in ways he didn’t plan.
Xavier also demonstrates the Pisces difficulty with being misread. He ends up as a suspect partly because the truth of who he is doesn’t transmit cleanly through the surface — the brooding exterior, the intensity, the art that depicts disturbing things. Pisces frequently suffers from the gap between their interior reality and how that interior reads from the outside. Xavier’s arc is partly about that gap and whether it can be bridged.
The loyalty Xavier has to Wednesday, maintained through being suspected by her, through her choosing someone else, through the frustration of a connection that keeps not landing the way he hoped — that’s Pisces loyalty. It stays longer than is always strategically wise and it’s genuinely felt rather than calculated.
If you’re the Xavier of your group: you make things and the things say more than you intended. You’ve been misread more than once by people who judged the surface before engaging with what was underneath it. Your feelings run deeper than your communication of them, which creates problems that have nothing to do with the depth of the feeling.
Tyler Galpin — Gemini
Tyler presents as the accessible, charming, normal one — the human boy in a school of outcasts, the one who seems straightforward, who seems to be exactly what he appears to be. He’s not. The presentation is constructed. The thing underneath the presentation is something entirely different that has been operating separately from the performed self for long enough that the gap has become the defining feature of who he is.
The Gemini shadow is the duality that stops being natural adaptation and becomes two selves that have lost contact with each other. Gemini adapts to context — this is not inherently problematic, everyone does this to some degree. The shadow is when the adaptation creates versions of yourself that are so separate they can act independently, that can harm with one hand and comfort with the other without the two hands being in conversation.
Tyler’s performance of normal is Gemini precision — he says the right things, reads what Wednesday needs to hear, creates the connection she responds to. The manipulation is sophisticated because it uses real social intelligence in service of something that social intelligence is not supposed to serve. The Gemini gift for understanding people, used to manage rather than connect.
The thing that makes Tyler genuinely Gemini rather than just manipulative is that the connection with Wednesday is probably real on some level, which makes everything more complicated. Gemini’s two sides don’t always know which one they actually are.
Bianca Barclay — Leo
Bianca is the queen of Nevermore in the most Leo sense — socially central, accustomed to being the most capable person in the room, maintaining her position through a combination of genuine talent and the social intelligence to ensure that the talent is always visible. She is also, underneath the queenship, someone dealing with a specific fear that the talent isn’t entirely hers and that without the siren ability she might not be what she appears to be.
The Leo quality in Bianca that the show renders most clearly is the genuine leadership underneath the social performance. When she chooses to use her abilities to help rather than to maintain position — fencing, the alliance with Wednesday, the moment she decides what she actually values — she’s still magnetic, still commanding, but for different reasons. Leo’s best version leads from genuine capability and genuine care. Bianca gets there.
The Leo shadow in Bianca is the fear that she’s only as good as the external confirmation of her goodness. The siren power is the literalization of this fear — if people like her because she’s compelling them to, does the liking mean anything? That question is Leo’s question, made supernatural. Most Leos are not sirens. Most Leos have a version of the question anyway.
If you’re the Bianca of your group: you’re the capable one who makes it look easier than it is. The effort behind the presentation is real and mostly invisible, which is the point. You’re also working out whether you’d be who you are without the things that make you impressive, and the answer is yes, you would be.
Eugene Ottinger — Virgo
Eugene is precise, knowledgeable about his specific domain to a level that most people find excessive, underestimated by most people he encounters, and completely unbothered by the underestimation because the bees are more interesting than the opinions of people who don’t understand them. He’s also, when it matters, more observant and more capable than anyone gave him credit for.
The Virgo quality in Eugene is the expertise that doesn’t require an audience. He knows what he knows. The knowing is the point, not the performance of the knowing. Virgo is often the person in the room with the most accurate information who communicates it in a way that doesn’t quite land because the communication isn’t the priority — the accuracy is.
Eugene’s injury and recovery arc is also Virgo — the quiet one who was doing something important that nobody was tracking, whose contribution was happening offstage, whose absence is felt in ways that exceed what people expected given how little they were paying attention to him. Virgo shows up and does the work. The work matters whether or not it was being watched.
Morticia Addams — Capricorn
Morticia runs the family with a precision that is simultaneously completely loving and completely competent, and she doesn’t appear to experience any tension between those two things. The love is expressed through excellence — through the perfectly maintained house, the perfectly calibrated family rituals, the consistent and unwavering presence that her children have always been able to rely on. That’s Capricorn love. Competent, consistent, utterly reliable, not particularly effusive.
The Capricorn quality in Morticia is the authority that’s comfortable with itself. She doesn’t perform her power — she simply is what she is and people respond accordingly. The poise is not affected. The precision is not anxiety. This is just how she moves through the world, and she has never particularly questioned it because it works.
Morticia also demonstrates the Capricorn long view — she understands Wednesday in a way that requires seeing past the immediate behavior to the underlying person and the longer trajectory. Where other parents might find Wednesday alarming, Morticia finds her recognizable. The Capricorn capacity to hold the larger picture without being destabilized by what’s immediately in front of them is what makes Morticia’s parenting so specifically suited to Wednesday.
Gomez Addams — Cancer
Gomez is organized entirely around the people he loves. Every decision he makes, every action he takes, every expression he produces is in service of his family — which he loves with a completeness and an openness that is entirely characteristic of Cancer and entirely uncharacteristic of the way most men in fiction are written to love their families.
The Cancer quality in Gomez that the show uses most effectively is the genuine warmth that requires no performance. He’s not maintaining a persona. He’s not managing an image. He loves Morticia, he loves his children, he’s delighted by Wednesday’s darkness in the specific way that Cancer parents are delighted by their children’s specific natures when they’re paying attention. The love is right there on the surface and he doesn’t find that embarrassing.
Gomez also demonstrates the Cancer protectiveness — the past storyline about Garrett Gates, the willingness to carry guilt and consequence for the sake of protecting his family, the way the past wound stays active and shapes the present. Cancer holds things. The holding is loyalty but it’s also sometimes a burden that Cancer could share and doesn’t.
Principal Weems — Libra
Weems runs Nevermore through diplomatic management of competing interests — the normie world that funds and tolerates the school’s existence, the outcast community that needs the school to function, the individual students whose wellbeing she’s actually responsible for, and the political reality of the Addams family whose daughter has arrived with maximum disruption potential. She is juggling all of these simultaneously and managing to keep most of the balls in the air most of the time.
The Libra quality in Weems is the institutional diplomat — the person whose job is to maintain a balance between things that don’t naturally want to be balanced, who does so through relationship management, careful presentation, and the consistent awareness of how things look from multiple angles simultaneously. She’s not naive about power. She’s just more interested in the functional equilibrium than in winning.
The shadow in Weems is the Libra shadow: the maintenance of the balance can become the goal itself, superseding what the balance was supposed to protect. She makes decisions that protect the institution rather than the students it’s supposed to serve because protecting the institution is the way she knows how to protect everyone, and sometimes that calculation is wrong.
Pugsley Addams — Taurus
Pugsley is content. He has what he wants — a family that accepts him completely, activities he enjoys, a relatively uncomplicated relationship with his own desires. He doesn’t have Wednesday’s intensity or ambition. He doesn’t need them. He’s happy with the things he’s happy with and he doesn’t particularly need more than that.
The Taurus quality in Pugsley is the groundedness that the rest of his family, in their various intensities, often lacks. Pugsley is not in crisis. Pugsley is not on a mission. Pugsley is doing what he likes and enjoying it and that’s genuinely okay. In a family where everyone is operating at maximum intensity, his baseline contentment is its own kind of distinctive.
Wednesday’s relationship with Pugsley is also astrologically accurate — Scorpio often has the most uncomplicated relationships with Taurus, because Taurus’s steadiness is one of the few things Scorpio doesn’t feel compelled to interrogate. Pugsley is exactly what he appears to be, which Wednesday finds, if not relaxing, at least non-threatening.
Nevermore Academy is full of people who are specific in their strangeness, which is what makes it such a good setting for zodiac mapping. The show understands that being an outsider isn’t one experience — it’s twelve different experiences, each with its own shape and its own particular set of gifts and costs. That’s the zodiac. That’s also what makes Wednesday worth watching.
Gina
GinaStars.com
