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smusherina · 26 days

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the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions) - chapter 1 (wenclair)

fandom: Wednesday (2022), Addams Family (all media)

pairing: (romantic) Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (platonic) OFC/Reader x Wenclair

summary: You'd been keeping an eye out for Enid Sinclair since freshman year. There'd been a silent camaraderie between you, both sitting in the very back of the room during Furs specific classes. Things changed, though, after Wednesday Addams came around. For one, Enid shifted.

additional clarification: Wednesday and Enid have an established relationship. Story follows the POV of an outsider.

It wasn't like you were angry at her. No, you could only be happy that not only had they (whoever they were, that was never clarified to you) saved the school from, uh, genocide, but Enid had shifted for the first time. That was a pivotal moment in any young werewolf's life, especially for Enid since she'd been latent.

You were angry at everything that would change. You'd been different and she'd been different, so you'd sort of banded together, y'know? Now, she was no longer that while you still were. You were alone. Again. You couldn't bring yourself to not be bitter about that.

Then again, it wasn't like you were really friends. You didn't talk, ever. You just sat next to one another in Werewolf Studies class. Your bond was totally one-sided, with you having latched onto any kindness shown to you by a peer. Because just sitting next to you was a kindness. Gosh, you sounded pathetic.

You'd liked her and wanted to be her friend so bad, but had never gathered the courage. You'd spent your evenings alone in your room, wondering what it'd be like being a friend of Enid Sinclair's.

You sounded so creepy and stalkerish. Maybe you were. You didn't actively follow her around or anything, or fantasize about her, or do anything like that. That was gross and violating. You just... You were lonely.

You had some time to get used to the idea. The fall semester ended early due to the normie teacher turning out to be a scheming bitch and resurrecting an evil pilgrim, apparently, so you'd have plenty of time to digest your new predicament.

Usually, for long holidays like summer vacation, you'd travel back to whence you came, but you hadn't had time to make arrangements amid everything. You knew your usual hosts wouldn't be pleased to take you in on such short notice.

You'd been given special permission from Weems to stay in school during winter break the previous years, which was shorter than summer vacation but longer than any of the other mid-season breaks, but considering she was dead you didn't quite know what to do. Was that permission still valid? Your roommate packed her bags as did everybody else. You watched from the balcony as everybody got in their parents' cars or boarded the bus. You packed up your essentials just in case they had some last-minute arrangements for you.

You expected to have a teacher come talk to you at some point. Tell you where you'd be going or if you were going to be staying. Pick-up day passed. The teachers and staff lingered for a bit longer. The cleaners left, then the cooks. A sinking feeling manifested in your belly as you realized there'd be no daily meals. Eventually, the others left too. You were alone at Nevermore.

Fuck. Fuck.

Fine. It was fine. Everything was fine. You got yourself into this mess. You should've opened your mouth and said something instead of assuming the teachers would check in on everybody. They didn't have that sort of time. In between hiring a new botany teacher and a new principal, buffing the sheriff's efforts to launch an investigation on the school, and assuring Jericho residents of their safety, obviously, they would forget about you.

Despite all your efforts to rationalize it in your mind, it did sting. But you made do. Once the initial panic wore off, you were able to make some plans.

You used the kitchen to make your own meals. You'd been cooking for yourself for a long time, so it was no biggie. There was plenty of stuff with a long shelf life stored away, so you didn't even have to go shopping that much. You made it a point to stay away from town as much as possible, only getting the essentials at odd, not-busy hours of the day. You were pretty invisible and unnoticeable, but you could appear only so many times out of nowhere before people began to wonder where that teenager lived if not in town.

It was actually pretty chill. A whole school to yourself. Sometimes, you pranced around, pretending like you owned the place. That was fun. Honestly, it wasn't that different from how you spent your days at school, except with less studying.

One key difference, though, was how you spent the full moon. For a wolf like you, it was vital to shift as often as possible in order to maintain a steady grip on reality during the full moon. Even so, due to your type being prone to feral behaviour, you were used to being locked up every full moon. You couldn't properly secure the cage from the inside.

You tried to do it the first time but woke up in the woods the next morning. Tough luck. Usually, you were able to maintain some lucidity during the shift, but you suspected that was due to the magical influence of the cage. Outside of it, your power was untapped and thus, you'd blacked out.

You'd probably attacked a mountain lion or something, maybe a bear, considering you were covered in blood and gashes. You were quite sure most of it was not yours. A lot of it was around your mouth. You felt it in your tummy, the large meal still roiling around.

Werewolf healing came in handy. The scratches healed in no time, though did take longer than usual. The predator must've gotten you good.

You didn't bother with the cages the next time around. You'd broken the one you'd escaped from and those things couldn't be cheap.

Every day, you'd wake up in the morning and do your routine. Pee, brush teeth, put on deodorant, go down for breakfast. Go for a run, first in human form then wolf form, shower, snack. Study, read a topical book, snack break, study some more, nap. Chores, like laundry or dishes, make dinner and eat it, go patrol the grounds, sleep. On nights of the full moon, you'd finish your day with the patrol and only go to sleep in the morning when you found yourself naked in the woods.

You weren't really Christian in the sense that you'd ever gone to church, but your family had celebrated Christmas. You treated yourself to a big slab of ham that you wolfed down. Ha.

New Year's was much the same. A slightly better dinner than usual. Then you went back to your room to play video games.

It was all pretty boring. A nice vacation, all in all, but nothing too thrilling. A little modern survivalist. Your roommate came back along with the rest of the student body. She scowled at you in greeting as always. It was quite jarring, going from the echoing, empty hallways to every corner being packed. It was loud.

Something you hadn't expected, though, was that your stay was cause for concern. You probably should've come clean immediately to avoid all this. They took stock of the kitchen and found things missing as well as some unaccounted-for fresh ingredients. God forbid you wanted to eat vegetables. The broken werewolf cage caused a stir, which you could understand. The common consensus was that those things were unbreakable.

People thought that somebody, an outsider, had broken in and lived in the school. There were rumours that they were still at Nevermore, lurking, watching. Some speculated it was Tyler, the Hyde.

That theory was disproven soon enough, as Sheriff Galpin came to the school to give a public announcement. His son had been missing for quite some time, as he had escaped the vehicle transporting him, but had recently been found. Or, rather, his remains had been found.

The sheriff implied that the person who'd invaded Nevermore might have likely been his son's killer. To the public, the case was made out to be as if Tyler had somehow slipped away from the cops transporting him to juvie, gotten lost in the woods, and been victim to an animal attack. Everybody knew what animal attack really meant.

If anybody knew anything, they were to come to him at once. Nobody stepped up. Not even you, especially not you. You were sweating bullets, antsy and sick to your stomach. Had you attacked him? Eaten him? Were you a cannibal now? Oh no, what if you got that brain disease from this? Oh no, you had probably eaten a person.

You should've said something. You should've given yourself in. The teachers would've made you go back to your carers despite them being labelled as unfit in your file, but that was just how things were. You should've been able to stomach that. You did so every summer. If you'd told the truth to the teachers or the sheriff, you'd have been arrested for murder, probably. It would mean proving every presumption about you and your kind right, and ruining your life forever. You didn't want that. Wasn't that what you deserved, though?

Weeks passed. School started up again. The snow was slow to melt, the frigid temperatures clinging to the stone walls of Nevermore, causing a permanent chill to permeate the halls. Adding to the dreary atmosphere was the sad reality of the principal not being a tall woman clad in all white at all times, but the frumpy vice principal Frankenfroot, and the unease created by the mysterious invader.

Amidst the all-around grey atmosphere, stood out one girl. Enid Sinclair. You hadn't been paying as much attention to her as before, with all this mystery bullcrap stressing you out beyond belief.

She'd skipped the first couple of Werewolf Studies classes, so it took you a while to be near her. You assumed she'd been given some private lessons to make up for the years she was unable to participate in the practical aspects of the class.

You hadn't seen much of her during or immediately after the whole ordeal last year, so the changes to her were very stark to you. The scars, now only slightly more pink than the rest of her skin, stood out. As far as scars went, they were pretty fortunately placed and fairly clean. No jagged lines or disfigurement. Aesthetically pleasing scars. And even if she hadn't had such luck, you bet she would've rocked them just the same. They looked nice. Was that okay to say about scars? How could you be a foot-in-mouth in your own head?

Also, she smelled different. More wolfy, less perfumy. You liked it. The musky earth smell definitely added to her usual floral notes.

"Um, hey, so..." Enid said as she packed her books into her bag. "Excuse me, uh, what's your name?" You tapped your finger on your chin, trying to put yourself in her shoes. You had plenty of scars. None on your face, though, There was a pretty gnarly one going from your collarbone to the back of your ear, though.

"Hey," Enid's voice came alarmingly close to you. You turned your head. She was looking right at you. Why was she looking at you?

"Are you ignoring me?" She asked, bag on her shoulder and a slightly offended look on her face.

"What?" You blurted out, looking around. The classroom had emptied. "Are you talking to me?"

"Who else?" She sassed. You supposed that should've been obvious.

"Sorry. Sorry! Um. What were you saying?" Trying to be as normal as possible, you got up to pack your own things. You hoped she couldn't see your knees wobbling.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to form a pack with me." She seemed to relax, maybe getting the vibe you weren't trying to agitate her on purpose.

"Huh?" Your hands shook. You held onto your backpack with white knuckles. "Aren't you gonna join the school pack?"

There was the school pack, which was led by the professor during full moon runs, but there was also the option of forming your own pack. Some of the seniors did that, mostly pack-leaders-to-be getting in some practice before the real deal.

You'd spent a good chunk of the break working to accept that Enid was going to be leaving you for the school pack. You'd been so prepared, so ready, to be ditched that now that she wasn't doing that, you had no idea how to act.

"I don't wanna be around them. They didn't give a fuck about me until I shifted, and when I finally did suddenly they wanna be all buddy-buddy!" She huffed and gestured with her arms. She was so animated. "I just feel like that's fake AF. That's not how you care about a person, y'know?"

"Totally." You whispered, sounding a little too reverent. "Um, I would love to, I really would, but I'm a lycanthrope."

You waited for her to grimace, recoil, make some sort of remark. None came. Only her confused face.

"Uh... I know. We're both werewolves."

"No, I mean, yes, we are, but..." You wondered how you could explain this in a sensitive but also appropriately informative way. "You've never heard of lycans, have you?"

"I thought werewolves and lycans were the same thing." She said. Oh boy. Not an uncommon misconception, but one that could cost dearly.

"Nope. Uh, the bare bones are the same but some relevant details are totally different." You chewed on your lips a bit. "I've read ahead a bit in the textbook, so I know we're gonna cover it this year. I'm kinda like an experience-specialist! Haha. Um, so, if you don't care that's totally understandable and no worries, so I could give you a brief rundown if you want, but-" You took a deep breath. "I could explain it more. In depth, I mean. Like, a slide show, or something."

You sounded like an idiot. Who the frick offered a private slide show to an almost complete stranger? You'd humiliated yourself. Utterly humiliated yourself and your bloodline.

"Oh my gosh! I would love that!" She said, probably just not showing how she felt bad for you. "Can I bring my girlfriend?"

You didn't know they'd begun dating. You would've expected to hear those news circulating around the school, but apparently not. Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal.

"Wednesday? Oh, yeah, she can come." You thought about that for a moment. "I think she'd find lycans very interesting."

"That..." Enid pursed her lips and tilted her head. "Huh. I see. Are lycans like, more bloodthirsty or something like that?"

"Kinda," That was sort of a disparaging stereotype, but it was rooted in some truth. The reality was much more convoluted.

"When and where?" She pulled out her phone. Probably making a note. You were important enough for a note?

"Um, my roommate doesn't spend a lot of time in our room so we could do it over the weekend at mine? I'm in Juliet Hall." Your hands trembled as you dug your phone out of your pocket. "I- I could add you. If you wanted."

"Yeah! What's your user?" You said it. "Got it. I added you, add me back!" You did as she asked, vision blurring with the intensity you were staring at the screen. "Fab! I'll text you details later tonight, yeah?" At your nod, she whirled around. "Gotta dash! Bu-bye!"

"Bu-bye..." You murmured after her.

Notes: A new series! This time Wenclair. Or, a platonic OC/Enid with a side of Wenclair. I've been ruminating on this concept for a long time, so I wanted to put it out there as soon as I finished my last series. I totally get if this isn't people's cup of tea, the focus is off the main attraction after all, but y'know. It's here. Do what you will.

This whole thing was borne of me wanting Enid to have a werewolf friend. She deserves a buddy to be dogs with! Also, world-building with werewolves is so fun! Fun fact about me, I'm a seasoned omegaverse writer :) We'll see if I get to do any of that in my later series teehee.

If you wish to be on the taglist, comment so on this post!

#wednesday netflix #wednesday x enid #wenclair #wednesday spoilers #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wlw #lesbian enid sinclair #lesbian wednesday addams #fic: the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions)

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smusherina · 24 days

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the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions) - chapter 2 (wenclair)

fandom: Wednesday (2022), Addams Family (all media)

pairing: (romantic) Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (platonic) OFC/Reader x Wenclair

additional clarification: Wednesday and Enid have an established relationship. Story follows the POV of an outsider.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands fiddling with the clicker as you tried to look for anything amiss. The sheet was set up on the wall, the projector was powered up and ready to go, the cushions were on the ground, and the additional reading material and the pamphlet you'd printed out were all there. You hadn't wanted to be presumptuous, so you hadn't gotten any snacks. Well, you'd gotten them, in case they asked. They were stashed in your cupboard space. But you didn't want to seem weird or too eager, or something.

You weren't sure if this was more of a casual hangout with a slideshow, or just a purely academic pursuit. You couldn't even say which was preferable. You wanted friends, but the journey of making them seemed so stressful.

As it was the weekend, you were out of uniform. You'd contemplated just wearing it to save you the trouble of having to pick out an outfit, but in the end, even a shitty outfit seemed less weird than the stiff school uniform. All of your clothes were hand-me-downs and thrifted, not in the trendy way, so you'd put some real effort into looking presentable.

You had on the best pants you owned, a pair of black trousers that were only slightly too big on you. You'd cuffed them yourself and were pretty proud of your handiwork. Because they were black, the slightly uneven stitching wasn't even that noticeable. You'd put on your cleanest tee shirt, a grey one with an old Autoshop logo on the front. It was a bit worn, the logo chipping away, but it had no visible stains.

You inspected your glasses, squinting your eyes. You held them up in the light. You wiped at the lenses with the hem of your shirt. No smudges, please.

The specs almost clattered to the ground when somebody knocked on your door. You shoved them back onto your nose and rushed to the door.

"Hi!" Enid chirped, dressed as colourfully as ever and with Wednesday in tow.

"Hello," You said and opened the door wider for them. "Please, come in."

"I'm so excited! I've never heard of different types of werewolves!" Oh, Enid, she was so pure. You could only smile, feeling a little dread already. The subject was pretty darn bleak.

"I'm curious as to how the nature of lycans differs from that of werewolves." Wednesday's sharp eyes caught yours. "Is this seating for us?" She pointed down at the cushions.

"Yeah! I figured the floor cushions would be more comfy than the chairs. One of you can borrow my desk chair, if you'd rather do that. I, um, I heard you're allergic to, uh, colour, Wednesday, so I put a black towel on it." You motioned to the floor, walking to your spot next to the white sheet. "If that's okay."

"Hmm," Wednesday said nothing as she primly sunk onto the towel-covered cushion. Wordlessly, she dug into her bag and pulled out a little notebook along with a fountain pen. Alright. So, she was all good.

You turned to Enid, who was looking at you with a quizzical look on her face.

"Would- would you like some water or something?" You'd never played host before. You hoped you were doing alright.

"Thanks, but we're good. We might go grab a bite to eat later, though. You should come with!" Enid said as she settled down next to Wednesday.

Oh. My. Gosh. More hanging out. You hadn't even proved yourself to be okay company yet. Enid's generosity really knew no bounds.

"Yeah!" Your voice cracked. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds great." You gave a jerky thumbs-up. Internally, you berated yourself for being so uncool.

Better to start now and breeze over your disastrous handling of social interaction. You flicked the lights off, save for the little lamp on the floor next to the cushions. So they'd see to take notes. You'd really thought of everything.

Clicking to show the first slide, you pointed between the two figures of anthropomorphic wolves standing somewhat upright. One was ragged and frothing at the mouth, bigger in stature, and sported a generally mangy appearance. The other had a smoother coat, looked perfectly calm, and had a more hunched back.

"This one," You stopped on the mangy-looking wolf. "Is a lycan. That one," You went back to the tamer-looking wolf. "Is a werewolf. I'm first gonna touch on some general stuff, like history, then what the specific differences are, then why those differences exist, and then I'll talk a little more about, uh, the social aspects."

Your two pupils nodded along. One did so enthusiastically, her head bobbing up and down rapidly, and the other nodded so minutely you wouldn't have caught if you weren't focusing on their reactions like a hawk. Swallowing, you gathered every smidge of confidence you could find and got on with it.

"Werewolves came first. Technically. It's a little unclear as to how they came to be as there's little written history. Different communities and old packs all have their stories, mythology passed along from generation to generation. It could be a curse, a blessing, an omen." You clicked to the next slide, where there were some specific origin stories. "For example, the O'Brien pack-"

"My dad's surname was O'Brien!" Enid perked up.

"It's likely he used to be a member! Where is he from?"

"He's originally from Northern Michigan."

"Oh, there you go. It's very likely he's the current alpha's son or grandson, depending on how old he is. He's probably got a more submissive temperament, which is why he took your mother's name." Oh no, you shouldn't assume her parents were married. "Or why you got her name."

"Yeah, he took her name. I thought they did that just 'cause..." Enid murmured.

"I... I don't know your family's specific traditions. It's just, uh, it's common for wolves to take the more dominant partner's surname when getting married." You glanced between them. Wednesday was writing down notes, eyes honed in on the projection. Enid looked at her girlfriend, biting her lip. You decided to continue.

"Um, so... The O'Brien pack is largely credited for bringing the monotheistic belief in the moon goddess over to the States in the 1800s. There's a lot of bloody, violent history in the conflict between native werewolves and settler werewolves, just as with humans- or normies, whichever term applies. I'm sure you two are familiar with that aspect of history, so I won't go into detail. Um." You checked to see if they were still on board.

"Question?" Enid asked, raising her hand tentatively.

"Yeah, go for it!" You fiddled with the clicker anxiously.

"My family believes in the Greek pantheon, specifically Selene." Enid scratched at her cheek. "How's that tie in with everything?"

"Oh yes, so basically werewolf religion can be split into two baseline camps, so to speak. Camp One consists of worshippers of a singular moon goddess and Camp Two is a belief in spirituality and natural forces. Within these camps are kind of sub-groups. For example, werewolves of Irish origin tend to believe in Irish mythology and, in turn, those of Greek origin believe in Greek mythology." You beamed, happy to answer her question. "Of course, in some cases, ancestry has nothing to do with anything, since culture and religion spread through people, not blood."

"I don't think we have Greek ancestry..." Enid muttered. "Maybe? I'm gonna have to ask."

"It's possible you don't, 'cause there was a uh, a trend in the 1950s that led to a lot of spiritually aligned werewolves converting to Selene." You shrugged. "Could be either way."

Enid also shrugged.

"So, uh, factually and scientifically, that's all, like... Wrong." You didn't know how else to put it. "Obviously, the point of religion is not to be correct, it is largely a comfort for people to believe in something greater than themselves, but there have been several, ill-received studies on exactly what werewolfism is."

"I assume this is not material that has been taught in your classes." Wednesday looked to Enid, who was gaping at the projection currently on a slide that had a picture of a DNA strand. "Why?"

"Well... I assume it's 'cause the teacher is a firm believer in werewolf creationism, which as a story is really convoluted and, just, impossible to summarize, so he doesn't spend much time teaching things he doesn't believe are true."

"That is..." Wednesday trailed off. "Alarming."

"I did file a complaint to Principal Weems during freshman year, but it didn't really go anywhere." You said meekly.

"I- I didn't know there was actual, I dunno, medical research on werewolves!" Enid blurted out, the words tumbling off her tongue.

"Fascinating, is it not?" You perked up. "Human doctors have done a fair bit of it, too! That's why werewolves can go to the hospital and get bloodwork done without being outed. Basically, all werewolves have a gene that makes it possible for them to shift forms. Studying it is hard, possibly due to some innate magical interference, not everything can be explained with science, but so far only werewolf researchers have been able to glean that this is, in fact, the source of their power. Humans have determined that the gene is responsible for some passive traits, such as a more efficient immune system, higher average body temp, and a faster metabolism.

"And this does bring us, finally, to the lycans. Lycans are humans subjected to the bite of a werewolf. It's been speculated that the werewolf gene is a mutation that evolved in response to exposure to the Lycan Infection over centuries. For the body to sustain the transformation, it needed to change, get stronger. Survival of the fittest with some supernatural road blocking, the results were remarkably successful."

"The Lycan Infection?" Wednesday uttered, looking up from her notebook to stare at you. You shivered, a chill travelling up your arms to your neck.

"Yes- yes, um, that's... The Lycan Infection is what made the majority of werewolves today. That's what the pathogen is called. It's unclear where it originated and how exactly it came to be." You clicked through a few slides. "There are some records of werewolves before the infection, but by no means enough to determine population numbers or anything substantial."

"So, we're all sick?" Enid asked, sounding downtrodden.

"Well, no, not really." You said, prompting her to tilt her head. She was precious. "Werewolves only carry it passively. Only lycans are, well, sick." You pursed your lips.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Enid said, eyes all sad and lips pouty.

"No! No, there's no need to be sorry! I like being a lycan." For the most part, you left unsaid. "It's totally fine."

"You were bitten, yes?" Wednesday asked poignantly.

"Wednesday!" Enid hissed, hitting her on the arm. Wednesday was unfazed, eyes locked onto yours.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly, trying to keep calm. "I was eight."

There was an awkward pause.

"Um! That happened, but I'm so fine right now. So fine. Nothing is wrong. Like, ever." You tapped your hands together. "So, lycans."

The lesson continued. Lycans looked like that 'cause the pathogen intercepted the growth of fur, caused an over-production of mucus and saliva, and accelerated nail growth. Due to lycans missing the werewolf gene, they retained more human features during the shift whereas werewolves could pass as normal wolves for a second, though only for a second. The absence of the gene also caused transformations to be more painful, a lack of mental agency in wolf form, and added stress to joints and ligaments.

"Yeah, lycans have a life expectancy of about thirty-five to forty-"

"You're- you're expected to die at forty?" Enid screeched. "At the latest?"

"Yeah?" You tilted your head to the side. "Y'know, it's been on the rise for the last ten years! It used to be thirty to thirty-five!"

You kept talking, kept showing slides, and Enid continued to be stunned, Wednesday remaining passive. Lycans were shunned from werewolf communities, generally denied access to packs and werewolf-specific health centres, and more often than not infertile. Lycans, due to their uncontrolled nature, were unable to form structured packs or support systems, leading to isolation and loneliness or unstable, abusive psedo-packs. Due to these issues, the most perpetuated stereotypes of lycans were that they were involved in street gangs, did drugs, and resorted to violence easily.

By the end of it, Enid was pretty much holding back tears. You'd fucked up. This was a mistake. You should've kept her ignorant. What would she even do with all this info? It wasn't like any of this was actually useful. The textbook section about lycans was basically cautions and warnings to stay the eff away.

"That's so tragic. You're just ill, is all. You need help, not exile." Enid sniffled. She wasn't quite crying, but her eyes were welling up. Wednesday was even holding her hand. You knew the goth didn't like touch, so that was probably a huge deal.

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say. You sat down on the floor in front of them, feeling uncomfortable standing while they sat. You shuffled your weight, trying to think of something to make this better.

"You def have to join my pack. I've been looking for people to run with and I thought to ask you first since we've been sitting together for so long."

"Um." Thing was, you would've loved to. You'd have really loved to run with her. "I- uh, there's a great possibility I'd try to hurt you. And besides, I'm not allowed out on full moons."

Werewolves had the added benefit of not needing to shift much aside from when the moon was full. If you wanted to not be in utter agony, you needed to shift at least once a day. You had an allotted free period every weekday so you could go for a run on the grounds.

So, even if you could technically both run as wolves at the same time, Enid only really had reason to shift during full moons, conveniently the only time you'd be unable to join her. Fate was playing tricks on you, dangling a treat just above your nose. You felt like a dog with a piece of cheese on its nose, being told to wait, wait, wait.

"We could break you out." Wednesday pointed out. "I need to investigate the broken cage either way."

"Yeah! And I beat a hyde! No offence, but I could handle you."

How to say yes without sounding too excited by the prospect? How to quell a sense of foreboding doom, because there was a possibility, however small, that you too had beat a hyde?

You wanted to run with her. You wanted to be in her pack. You wanted, you wanted, you'd wanted for so long.

You were gonna do it.

"Sure. Yes! If- if you wanted to do that, you totally should! If you wanted to. And it wouldn't be too, uh, too complicated." You swallowed thickly, shrinking under their gazes. Both had such intense eyes. "And, um, just as a precaution, I could get some horse tranquillizer darts for Wednesday to have in case I get... Nasty. Just in case!"

Wednesday grinned. It was a terrifying expression. You couldn't look her in the eye. Cold sweat dampened your neck.

"Don't look so excited." Enid chastised her girlfriend and got up. "Aw, fuck, my knees." She whined, rubbing them. You got that. Your knees hurt, like, all the time. "Let's go eat!"

"Hm. Acceptable." Wednesday rose smoothly and deposited her pen and notebook back into her bag.

"Have fun," You waved.

"Oh, aren't you coming? I heard there's good dessert today." Enid, gracious soul, good heart, you'd never forget her kindness.

"I'll come! If you want!" You glanced at Wednesday. She didn't seem particularly offended by your presence, so you took that to mean you two were cool.

"Yeah!" Enid laughed a little, motioning for you to join them.

You skipped over to them, unable to hide the glee pouring off you. It would be fine. It would be so fine. It would be so fine that it'd actually be so unremarkable that after the fact you'd wonder what you'd even been so worried about.

It probably wasn't even you.

Taglist: [completely honest, i totally forgot about the taglist. adding it hours later lmao.] @screechcat, @filthy-sanvers-paws, @atticus-shits-n-giggles

#wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wenclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #lesbian wednesday addams #lesbian enid sinclair #fic: the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions)

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