Chapter Text

Chapter I: Public Service Announcement

~ Enid Sinclair ~

It took every ounce of Enid’s willpower to keep her mouth shut about her new relationship with Wednesday Addams. Sure, Wednesday hadn’t seemed strictly against being known in public, or at least by their friends (Wednesday would have insisted that they were merely Enid’s friends, but Enid very much disagreed), but she also hadn’t given an explicit answer when Enid had indirectly raised the point on that first fateful, blissful, unnerving, confusing day that would change their lives forever… And, okay, maybe she could’ve asked again, slightly more directly. However, Wednesday seemed to be enjoying the new rhythm that they were developing together in private, in her own very Wednesday way, and Enid didn’t want to disrupt that.

The pair continued to sleep in separate beds, but Wednesday had agreed to shuffle her side of the room around so that they could be laying in parallel and look at each other if Enid so desired. Physical contact still required consent, advanced warning, and limitations on its duration, but Wednesday would melt into Enid’s arms at least once in the morning first thing after they woke up, and once at night after brushing their teeth just before they were about to climb into bed. They hadn’t properly kissed—part of Enid wondered (feared) that this particular development could take years—but, so long as they were in private, Wednesday not only tolerated but would flush so deeply that it made Enid’s heart soar whenever she left a brief peck on her girlfriend’s cheek or crown or forehead. And Wednesday was just at such a perfect forehead-kissing height.

All in all, Enid too was in a state of borderline bliss, but had also decided that she was willing to be patient. Endlessly so, if that’s what was necessary. Though Wednesday had been the one to confess, Enid had been yearning for this too, and not just the abstract concept of ‘getting a spooky goth gf,’ or whatever else Yoko might’ve phrased it as to tease her, but to love all of Wednesday just as she was. They certainly had been through enough challenges as friends—both external and between the two of them—that Enid couldn’t delude herself if she tried that Wednesday was stubborn and blunt and antisocial. But she also had seen, perhaps more than anyone else had ever been able to, the extent to which those things just meant that Wednesday cared, was honest, and confident enough in herself that she didn’t care what other people thought. Except Enid, and that’s kind of what did it. The most imposing stonewall in existence, but she was soft for Enid in her own way. Therefore, if Enid accepted all of this (and she really, really did, strange as it felt), then she would be okay with Wednesday’s oddities and preferences and privacies extending to define how they expressed their relationship to the world.

Which is why, about two weeks after getting together, Enid found herself completely confused upon accidentally overhearing snippets of a particular conversation. Ever since her first transformation into her werewolf form, Enid’s senses had drastically improved. However, even she was still learning their limits, and the more comfortable that she became with her wolven nature—in particular, as she learned to harness the alpha abilities that had threatened at first to keep her trapped in wolf form forever—the stronger that her hearing and smell, in particular, became. Enid had not anticipated, however, that standing on their balcony outside their iconic circular window, which was mostly closed, would still allow her to hear not only anything that happened in their room, but through the door and out into the hallway.

“…task for you,” Wednesday was saying. Her tone flat, as always, but Enid could hear in it something ever so slightly conspiratorial.

“What’s in it for me?” came a reply. A voice that had once raised Enid’s hackles with a single word, but had become a pretty staple part of her friend group in the last year: Agnes DeMille.

“Your itch to serve me suitably scratched,” said Wednesday.

A silence, into which Enid’s imagination filled an unblinking, wide-eyed stare of ‘really?’ by Agnes.

“Fine,” Wednesday conceded. “It was worth a shot. I shall pander to your unquenchable desire for private information, as it pertains to this task and to… myself. Know that I ask you to into my confidence, uncharacteristic as that is, to ensure that our various acquaintances are suitably impressed upon with the consequences of drawing my ire.”

“I’m intrigued,” said Agnes. “Go on.”

“I have expressed my intentions and initiated formal courtship with Enid Sinclair.”

The next silence was even more telling then the first. But then, “With that pup?”

“Careful. This is precisely the point of this task. I will not tolerate any disrespect for Enid or our… entanglement, and that includes from you. You may have wormed your way into my limited social sphere, but I know that you know that, for her, I would not only remove you from my world, but from the very world of the living,” said Wednesday. This was more difficult to hear, her voice low and genuinely threatening in a way that Enid hadn’t heard directed toward herself—or even really their friends, including Agnes—in some time. But, Enid may or may not have had her ear pressed to the glass, straining to catch every word.

“Alright, alright!” Agnes said. “No teasing. Got it. But, don’t worry, I definitely ship it. What do you need?”

(Agnes shipped it? Enid didn’t know whether she was pleased or nervous or deeply annoyed at the vanisher’s take on their, as Wednesday had called it, ‘entanglement.’ Or that Agnes, as the stalker-slash-gossipmonger who even rivalled Enid’s interest in the clandestine affairs of others, was the first to find out that they were dating.)

But then, footsteps. Away from the door, and Wednesday’s reply was lost to enough distance that even Enid’s werewolf hearing couldn’t make out more than, “I nee…”

Tuesday morning brought the next suspicious piece of the puzzle.

Surprising pretty much everyone, Enid had joined beekeeping club at the beginning of her final year at Nevermore Academy. There were now five ‘Hummers’: Eugene, Wednesday, Enid herself, an enthusiastic first-year entomopath (a girl who could sense the location of insects, but had more limited communication abilities with them than Eugene), and a faceless boy who only occasionally turned up and was just in it for the credit. Eugene, of course, was over the moon with these developments.

Had Enid joined to spend more time with Wednesday? Maybe. However, it genuinely hadn’t been the only motivation. It turned out that her wolven side, once Enid had more time to familiarise herself with her instincts and abilities outside of life-or-death situations, was actually more aligned with her human personality than she had ever expected. Enid wondered whether seeing all of the other werewolves around her act so boisterous and animalistic hadn’t inherently meant that she would take on those traits in wolven form too, but simply that most other furs had been socially conditioned into those personalities in both forms. So, once again, Enid was the outlier, even as a wolf, but it was honestly an enormous relief to discover that she continued to love bright things and physical affection and music and, of course, anything sweet. That being said, her wolf-self (a) had trouble opening candy wrappers, (b) got most such things stuck in her sharp teeth, which struggled to chew small sweets, and (c) would throw up anything with chocolate in it as soon as she reverted. The solution, discovered one night out ‘hunting’ (mostly for crunchy leaves in early Autumn) with Wednesday? Honey.

The day after that particular full moon, Enid had tentatively followed Wednesday out to the Hummers’ shed. Her previous temporary participation in beekeeping activities had actually been fairly neutral, but the fear and stress that Enid had been under at the time had not coloured the experience well. Eugene had been fully ingratiated as both of their friend by this point, however, and the increased confidence that Enid had built over the previous year or so allowed her to push aside the worst of her nerves. And, in the end, it was fun. Bees, unlike spiders and centipedes and moths and other such creatures that continued to give her the worst ick, were comparatively cute and fuzzy. And even affectionate. Enid got to care for something, spend time with her friends, and stockpile honey and honeycomb snacks for the full moon.

This day, as she approached walking just a smidgen closer to Wednesday’s side, their shoulders occasionally brushing, the atmosphere changed the moment that they entered the shed.

“Hi Wednesday!” Eugene greeted her enthusiastically. But then, “Oh, hello Enid.”

What was that? The younger boy wasn’t exactly known for being able to disguise his emotions, and Enid felt that it was, what, attempting to play off anxiety as indifference?

“Greetings, Eugene,” said Wednesday.

Trying to shake off whatever bubbling concern she was feeling in response, Enid summoned a bright grin and said, “Hey Euge! What’re we doing today?”

“Um, what do you want to do? I’m planning to work on hive six, but if you want you can just sit and hang out and sample the honey…?”

Now that was strange.

“Oh! I don’t mind helping. Gotta pull my weight as a Hummer!” Enid said. “Hive six, then?”

Not meeting her gaze, Eugene instead turned to Wednesday. “If that’s alright with you?”

In the past year, Eugene’s not-so-subtle crush on Enid had largely faded. It seemed that, perhaps, the younger boy had mainly just been isolated, and had dropped his awkward obsession fixation upon discovering that he was happy to be friends with Enid, and all of the others who he had grown closer to recently. But that had never stopped Eugene from wanting to spend time with Enid more generally, both in her own right and because his two best friends were Wednesday and Wednesday’s brother, with one of whom Enid could almost always be found.

“You may work with Enid on hive six,” Wednesday said. Her tone, on the surface, indicated simply that Wednesday was always content to give directions and make decisions. However, there was a small hint of confusion that Enid identified underneath, suggesting that this wasn’t something that Wednesday had specifically orchestrated with Eugene.

Well, Enid would be working alone with the nervous swarmer once they all climbed into their protective clothing and masks, and would definitely be getting to the bottom of this.

Not one for subtlety anymore than Wednesday, though it manifested in an entirely different way to her girlfriend, once they had wandered off from the group, Enid just bit the bullet. “Euge, what’s up? You’re acting awkward around me again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” said Eugene. His eyes went wide behind his mesh mask, guilt and fear flooding his expression. “Not meaning to be awkward at all, no! Ha ha. Just two friends, tending to the bees. Ya know…”

Enid sighed. “Alright, spill. Did Wends say something? She didn’t seem to know what was going on, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t threaten you without even realising it. I can talk to her, if you need.”

“Say? Nooo, definitely not.”

So it was going to be a game of semantics. Often was, when Wednesday was involved. Enid continued pushing, clarifying, “Fine. Did she sing, dance, write, sign, send smoke signals, or otherwise by any means communicate something to you that has made you uncomfortable?”

Enid liked Eugene, and knew that, when it came down to it, he was fiercely loyal and brave. Such traits, however, buckled quickly under Enid’s interrogation. She almost felt bad, except, this felt important, and she wasn’t about to let Wednesday inadvertently have driven a wedge between herself and one of her most important friends.

“She, um…” Eugene began, then shook his head.

“Come on, it’s alright. You know I can help. Got my own special way of communicating with our spooky goth cryptid.”

“I don’t know how it got there—I didn’t see anything, but it’s Wednesday, so I guess I’m not surprised—but I found a letter in my blazer pocket,” Eugene admitted.

“Do you still have it?” Enid asked.

The younger boy nodded. “Kind of just shoved it back in there in fright, and have been trying not to think about it.”

“Let me guess, you haven’t been able to think about anything else?”

Eugene simply nodded.

“May I see it?”

He was hesitant, but ultimately, Eugene seemed to be desperate for a solution to whatever this predicament was. And he did seem to trust Enid more than most. So, he slowly removed a suspiciously black envelope, complete with a (now broken) seal of black wax imprinted with an ornate ‘W.’ Not exactly subtle on Wednesday’s part.

Unfolding the envelope, Enid removed a sheet of creamy white paper, thick and expensive, of the kind that Wednesday used in her typewriter for important documents. The letter typed out in an unmistakably typewritten font was simultaneously a shock but also explained pretty much everything:

To Eugene Ottinger,

This letter communicates to you several grave matters, on which I expect your full cooperation.

I have formally initiated romantic courtship with Enid Sinclair. This is to be a permanent and serious evolution in our relationship, and should be treated with the utmost respect. I insist that you honour our privacy, and under no circumstances shall I tolerate any degree of negative treatment of my paramour.

For reinforcement, I present the following musings: Would your abilities be sufficient to mitigate the impact of every possession that you own being thoroughly doused in insect repellent, beyond any ability to be cleansed of such chemicals, or would you effectively be transformed into a mere Normie with something easily purchasable from any drug store?

With eyes everywhere,

Wednesday Friday Addams

It was kind of sweet. Like, ten per cent sweet, at best. But still, in its own Wednesday way, Enid’s heart fluttered just a little.

Nevertheless, it was also highly inappropriate.

Enid lay on her bed that afternoon, while Wednesday was off being cute and creepy in the woods for some alone time. (Enid was picturing her girlfriend stomping through the mud and undergrowth, an adorable scowl etched onto her face, which was obviously the Addams equivalent of frolicking through a field of flowers.) Though she had given Eugene the letter back, not wanting to risk Wednesday finding it back in their room, every word remained clear in Enid’s memory.

Permanent and serious, it was so romantic! But unacceptable, surely! With eyes everywhere? God, her girlfriend was intense. And protective. And good with words, even if they were used to form threats most of the time. And she had really pretty, scary eyes…

No, Enid was meant to be mad with Wednesday. Poor Eugene, frightened out of his very skin! Enid had promised that she would say something, but before getting the chance, another thought had come to her. There was no reason why Wednesday would’ve singled out Eugene for this treatment. He was, even in Wednesday’s own words, the ‘second-most tolerable individual in this supposedly educational, adolescent penitentiary.’ Even if Wednesday was specifically targeting anyone who had ever expressed romantic interest in or attraction toward Enid, that still left a handful of likely victims. It could even have gone as wide as all of their friends and acquaintances. Enid did not want to think about the possibility of such insanity having been delivered upon the entire school.

And this had most definitely had been the task that Wednesday had given Agnes. There was no question. Of course the psycho had accepted this particular job, even with initially standing up to Wednesday when asked. Get the goss first, scare the fuck out of their friends, earn Wednesday’s favour?

Enid needed more data. That’s how her girlfriend operated. Speak now, and the full scheme would collapse. Dig a little deeper… well, maybe she could find more examples of Wednesday saying romantic things about her making unnecessary threats to their friends. She could play Wednesday’s game for a bit, observe the degree of her girlfriend’s terrifying commitment, and build a pile of evidence. Would Wednesday be impressed if Enid solved this mystery? Wednesday would surely at least enjoy being blackmailed into a cute date to make it up to Enid. That was on brand.

The next most obvious target, if Enid assumed that the threats had been distributed at least somewhat excessively, was Yoko. Not potential competition for Wednesday, of course, but nevertheless an individual who Enid had definitely witnessed Wednesday being jealous over before. Not to mention that Yoko was by far the most likely to needle and tease Wednesday, admittedly in ways that even Enid would find inappropriate (though probably hilarious), upon finding out that they were together.

Yoko Tanaka was minding her own business (that is, hiding behind a pillar definitely creeping on Divina across the quad, despite the fact that they had been fully dating for almost three years) when her hyper-pastel, werewolf bestie found her.

“Go say hi,” Enid said. “Just be honest about your feelings. I’m sure she likes you too.”

“Ha ha, fuck off, Sinclair,” Yoko said with an eyeroll. “I’ve just had enough Kent for today, but I miss her.”

“Simp.”

Finally tearing her eyes away, Yoko turned and gave Enid a shit-eating grin. The vampire pulled Enid into a supernaturally strong embrace, which would’ve cracked ribs if Enid hadn’t been even stronger herself. Therefore, naturally, the hug in return caused Yoko to yelp in protestation as the werewolf genuinely did almost (though she never actually would) break something.

“How ya been?” Yoko asked.

“You mean since we hung out at breakfast?”

Yoko shrugged. “A lot can happen after breakfast.”

“Urgh, tell me about it,” said Enid.

“Well, Kent…”

“You know what? No, that’s not what that phrase means, Yokes, and you know it! I know how annoying Kent can be, no matter how much we love him.”

“Alright, what is it? Do we need to head somewhere quiet to chat, or should I just start making heads roll now?” asked Yoko. The vampire could read Enid with no trouble, and based on her tone was fully ready to go to war for her bestie. (Not that Yoko wouldn’t go to war just for the bit.)

“Your room?”

“That serious, huh. I’ve got some gin hidden under my mattress, if this requires something a little stronger. Not that it works on me,” Yoko said, already pulling Enid back toward Ophelia Hall.

“Me neither. Or, at least, I’ve eaten enough today and it’s close enough to another full moon that I’ll just burn anything off in minutes.”

“No consequences, then?”

Several minutes later, the pair were perched on the edge of Yoko’s bed. In a strange way, Yoko’s dorm room wasn’t that different from Enid and Wednesday’s. This half was dark and moody, even if in a much more dramatic and quintessentially teenaged way than Wednesday’s. Blackout curtains, a four-poster bed with a wine-red velvet duvet, posters on the walls of nineties’ pop punk along with a few K-pop ones from various bands’ more angsty eras thrown in for good measure. So, essentially, Enid’s decorating style if she had Wednesday’s dark aesthetic. The opposite side featured pastels, not much pink but plenty of beige and blue and green. However, everything was immaculately arranged, coordinated, and almost, therefore, sterile. Wednesday’s decorating style with something more akin to Enid’s colour palette.

Yoko’s roommate basically only slept here, if that. A vanisher, who unlike Agnes wanted nothing more than to constantly be seen, and spent all of her time wherever the biggest group of other students could be found, or else sneaking into her boyfriend’s dorm room. That suited Yoko just fine, from what she had told Enid. Made it easier to bring Divina around, and their current dorm mother, while not specifically conservative or problematic in her worldview, was sufficiently oblivious and old-fashioned to even bat an eyelid at the siren ‘sleeping over’ every other night, despite berating Yoko’s roommate anytime that she got caught. ‘Queer erasure, sure, but also has its perks,’ Yoko had described it once.

Once seated, Yoko turned to face Enid directly, and put a firm hand on each shoulder. “Talk.”

(It was amusing, if only vaguely, that Enid had pushed Eugene just the same way only hours before, now to be put in the same position by Yoko.)

Sighing, Enid said, “It’s Wednesday.”

“When is it not?” Yoko laughed.

“You’re being awfully chill around me, but I confronted Eugene this morning, and I have a suspicion…”

With a knowing look, Yoko stood and wandered over to her desk. With a flourish, she pulled out a familiar-looking envelope. “You mean this?”

“Eugene was shaking in his boots at having to interact with me,” Enid explained.

“You know, love him, but not surprised,” said Yoko. “Did you think I’d be the same? Really?”

“No, but you also hadn’t said anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Congrats, I guess, on finally bagging the tortured goth princess who we all thought was incapable of love, until she laid eyes on you.”

“I know, I know. The last person to know that Wednesday Addams had a crush is Wednesday Addams. You’ve tried to convince me of that before,” Enid said with a groan.

“Who confessed?”

“Her,” said Enid.

Yoko raised an eyebrow. “Addams has balls. Good on her! And I take it you didn’t know about these… friendly letters at first?”

“Just this morning. I made Euge tell me.”

“I thought about saying something. Div and I both got one, so did Kent. I’m holding onto all three, actually.” Yoko pulled out another two black envelopes from her desk drawer, and wandered back toward Enid. “We chatted and agreed that, for once, it was probably best to let you—either of you—come to us. I love you, E, and our lil emo mascot is important to us in her own way. Yeah, I’ve teased you for ages about this, but now that it’s real, I wanted it to be on your terms.”

“Thanks Yokes,” Enid said. She leaned into Yoko’s side, head dropping to the vampire’s shoulder. “Honestly, I’ve really wanted to talk to someone about it, and since Wends has let the cat out of the bag, I guess I can now. But I appreciate you not pushing when you didn’t feel it was right.”

“Hey, the alternative was that Kent thought we should throw a surprise party to celebrate you two. Think that would’ve gone down well?” Yoko asked.

“Fuck, he would’ve been dead before he could blink,” Enid said with a laugh. “Anyway. Can I, um…”

“Read them? ‘Course!” Yoko finished.

She handed Enid the letter addressed to herself first:

Tanaka,

You are a bore and a parasite. The way that the best use to which you put your fangs is a mocking smile is an insult to your proud lineage. I carry two stakes at all times as a contingency: one, originally, for other vampires in general, but a second one just for you since shortly after we just met.

Nevertheless, Enid is important to you, and you are important to Enid. As such, I have decided that candour and transparency will serve best in this situation.

I have formally initiated romantic courtship with Enid Sinclair. You know full well exactly how I expect you to treat this information. As you have so consistently proven your enjoyment of testing my boundaries, I am confident that you know every one of them. Do not push this time.

After speaking with my mother, I have confirmed that the Addams have a standing arrangement with an allium grower, and a shipment large enough to cover the entire school in an inch of particularly inconvenient foliage—to you—is on standby. Unrelated to this letter, of course, but a potential business arrangement of my family’s that I thought you might take personal interest in.

Ever vigilant,

Wednesday Friday Addams

Much as she wanted to react, Enid took the next letter instead, still processing as she read the one for Divina:

To Divina,

(I do not know your surname, and it did not feel worth the effort to find out.)

Among all of the lesser beings that call themselves ‘Nightshades’ or otherwise ‘friends’ of Enid, I will admit that you have the most impressive and admirable intellect. That you prefer consuming crime-based media in a visual format, I find baffling, but at least the subject matter is tolerable whenever we converse.

As such, I am generously extending the opportunity for you to maintain my favour, and trusting that you have the cognitive wherewithal to act wisely upon receipt of this missive.

I have formally initiated romantic courtship with Enid Sinclair. This is not something that I communicate for the sake of gossip, but to set clear expectations and boundaries. Tread carefully, and reign in Tanaka (if that is even possible).

Unlike many of the others, I do not feel the need to establish a specific threat to your person. After all, you are very familiar with how well versed I am in hiding bodies. Further intimidation would be redundant.

Never let your guard down,

Wednesday Friday Addams

“That was… strangely complementary?” Enid observed, already taking the letter to Kent.

Kent,

You are not particularly talented when it comes to subtlety, but you are unfortunately in close enough proximity to other individuals who will inevitably learn of this, so I did not feel that it was wise to leave you out.

Enjoy being included in my attentions for perhaps the first time ever.

I will murder you if you are rude to Enid Sinclair.

Sharpening my knives,

Wednesday Friday Addams

But then, written in pen instead of typed, was a postscript beneath Wednesday’s sign off:

In my endeavour to be as clear as possible in my intentions, apparently I overlooked the key piece of context. I have formally initiated romantic courtship with Enid. If that is too much for you to understand, others would call it ‘dating.’ The promise of murder is in this context. I trust that this establishes sufficient clarity.

Yoko was looking at Enid with barely contained laughter as she finished reading the third letter.

“Ouch,” Enid said. “Twins, and yet Wednesday’s view of them couldn’t be more different. How did Kent take it?”

“Not well, but he’s more of a sad puppy type than one to get angry. Though, it wasn’t Wednesday’s letter that really did it. He brushed that off pretty quickly as her ‘being scary like normal.’ Divi thought it was hilarious, and teased him about it all day.”

“It is kind of funny…” Enid admitted. “But, um”—a pause in which Enid knew that she looked awkward and ashamed—“what about yours? I’m sorry that Wednesday said, you know, all of that. It wasn’t maybe as offhandedly cruel as Kent’s, but was pretty mean.”

However, Yoko merely grinned, then said, “I wrote her one back. Wanna see it?”

“Um, sure. Does that mean you didn’t send it?”

“Nah, I was just stoked with my own eloquence. Even used proper punctuation. So I printed it off twice.”

Returning to the desk and then skipping back once more, Yoko handed Enid a folded piece of Nevermore’s generic printer paper. It read:

Yo Addams,

Fuck off.

Y.T.

(p.s. Supes happy for E, but hope you step on a Lego.)

Enid couldn’t control herself. She burst into giggles, loud and chaotic, including failing to suppress a snort at one point.

When she finally calmed down, after probably several long minutes of progressively struggling to breathe, Enid said, “I can’t believe my bestie and my girlfriend are becoming pen pals. That’s so cute!”

“Uh huh,” Yoko said, rolling her eyes once more. Though she was still grinning. “You know how to pick’em unhinged, babe. I’d worry for you, if you weren’t the weirdest of the bunch. Including Addams, by the way.”

“Aww, love you too.”

Only two confrontations had secured Enid a look at four threats. God, Wednesday was so thorough and extreme. It made her giddy furious. Yes, definitely furious.

After that, the rest weren’t hard to track down.

Wednesday threatened to lace all of Ajax’s beanies with black pepper, to ensure that his snakes never stopped sneezing.

Then, Bianca’s letter, which she had to fish out having predictably screwed it up and thrown it under her bed, alluded to Wednesday’s connections to a black market that illegally sold endangered fish to the underground sushi trade. Wednesday’s intention had been to shut it down, but she observed that there could be a chance to make one sale of her own first, sure there was a client with a taste for siren.

All of Wednesday’s sycophants, in the fan club of which Agnes had been the top dog before actually becoming friends with Enid and Wednesday, received letters too, though Wednesday noted in them that she had no need to even learn their names, let alone their personalities, to individualise the contents. They were simply threatened, as Kent was, with violence.

Even Pugsley was threatened, though this was more geared toward what he could say (which was, nothing) to their parents. Enid doubted that the threat had much real impact on Wednesday’s brother. Rather, he was pleased that she’d taken time out of her busy day to send him what was (his words) ‘such a fun and friendly letter—she hasn’t been threatening me nearly enough lately, and I miss it!’

A number of members of the wolfpack received similar treatment to Wednesday’s juvenile stalkers. Un-personalised, but direct and effective. Not that Enid even bothered to socialise with the pack anymore outside of routine werewolf activities, truly meaning it when she had called Wednesday her pack, and subsequently deciding her close friends were far more important to her than her outcast kin.

Discovering this, however, gave Enid the idea to check with one last person before she called it quits. Bruno Yuson.

Enid’s werewolf ex-boyfriend (though, she preferred to think about it as a ‘misguided situationship’ these days, as if that were any better) had attempted several times to integrate himself into Enid’s other friends. They pretty much collectively referred to themselves as the Nightshades these days, even though a handful weren’t formally inducted. Mainly because Bianca took charge if it was anything school-related, and Wednesday if there was a threat or mystery afoot, and the Nightshades’ library had become their go-to haunt. Every single one of them had given Bruno the cold shoulder. Though Sofia, Bruno’s no-longer-secret girlfriend, had broken it off with him since, the revelation of Sofia to the world—or, at least, the school—had burned many bridges for the werewolf. In fact, Sofia was significantly more tolerated by the Nightshades than Bruno himself. The dismissal of Bruno by her friends certainly made Enid’s life less awkward, limiting the run ins with him most days, though the times when they were forced to interact, or otherwise inadvertently crossed paths, were always tense.

Today, then, was actually the first and only time that Enid had actively sought out Bruno since the new school year began.

“Oh, um, hi Enid. Everything okay?” he asked, seeing her striding aggressively toward him. Bruno still typically played the apologetic role, but Enid knew that he’d made other friends and conned another girl into his web, so didn’t bother with any sympathy.

“Did you receive a letter?” Enid replied without answering his question. This didn’t need to be any more drawn out than required.

“A letter?”

“Wednesday,” she clarified.

“I presume you mean from the person, not on the day. Yes. Congrats. Keep her away from me.”

“Can I see it?”

Bruno turned and already started walking off. “No. I already threw it out. Just control her, for god’s sake.”

“Fuck off, she’s just being protective in her own way. You’re the one who couldn’t control yourself,” Enid said.

(This did not need to become an argument, but quickly looked like it was starting to.)

Now several paces away, Bruno briefly turned back. He said, “She threatened to ‘finish what Agnes started’ by ‘eviscerating’ me with ‘a thousand knives’ in Iago Tower. That’s messed up.”

The swell of warmth through Enid’s heart at hearing that was… probably wildly inappropriate. But she couldn’t help it. Enid wasn’t particularly fond of that memory, and everything with Bruno that it had led to, but in a weird way it nevertheless showed just how seriously Wednesday was taking all of this.

“Alright, no need to cry about it. Just be respectful like she asked, and she’d probably rather steer clear of you than bother getting close enough to bring you any harm,” said Enid. “I don’t want to yell across the corridor, so bye!”

One final confrontation, then. (Well, she would need words with Agnes, but Enid already knew how Wednesday had threatened the younger girl.)

That evening, Wednesday returned from fencing in as much of a state of disarray as she ever did. Which was to say, she was still largely composed, but her braids were fractionally frizzy, there was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, and her brows were slightly creased.

“How’d practice go?” Enid asked. She put as much cheer into her voice as she could.

“Fine,” was all that her girlfriend responded.

“Bested by Bianca, hmm?”

“Her name is not to be spoken within these sacred walls,” Wednesday said, muttering.

“Oh, I don’t see why not. You’re clearly pretty good friends with her, to have sent a personal letter informing her of our relationship.”

“How did—” Wednesday began. But then she clammed up, annoyance in her gaze at having been caught off guard and admitting to it. She continued, “I do not know of what you speak.”

“Mhmm, sure,” said Enid.

“May I shower and change?”

“To wash off from fencing, or from the blood on your hands from threatening all of our friends, Wends?” asked Enid. She tried to sound upset and unapproving, she really did. But a slight twitch of the corners of her mouth no doubt betrayed her.

“Are you interrogating me, beloved?”

“That depends. Do you have anything to admit? Or would you rather I withhold our twice-daily hugs for two weeks. That’s how long ago you issued the threats, right?”

“I do not need physical affection,” insisted Wednesday. However, as Enid knew that she would, her girlfriend had frozen in place.

Enid simply stared her down. Once, she would’ve broken first.

“Fine!” said Wednesday. “You wanted them to know, I needed them to understand my expectations. I only asked for their respect of our privacy.”

“And, as such, half of them were too scared to even talk to me,” Enid said. (That bit had hurt, slightly, if she was being honest.)

“Only half?”

“God, Wends, you’re…” Enid started. A sigh, then, “I want to say ‘mean’ and ‘insensitive’ and ‘creepy.’ But what my stupid, lovesick brain is saying instead is ‘protective’ and, um… ‘hot’.”

“Please refrain from calling yourself stupid, or calling me hot. I will, however, protect you to my dying breath and beyond, ma chérie,” said Wednesday.

“You’re such a strangely romantic creature, Wednesday,” Enid said. “Just, be nice to our friends? All of them—well, except Bruno, but ‘friend’ doesn’t really apply there—are happy for us.”

“Yoko’s letter in response suggests otherwise. She is only happy for you. Though I do not know what a ‘Lego’ is, I presumed it would hurt or deliver a poison into my bloodstream upon contact with my foot.”

“Oh, we’ve got to get you a Lego set. It’s like a puzzle, that let’s you build a toy, but! Before you say anything about it being a toy, there are some neat and creepy ones! But that’s beside the point. Yoko is happy for you. She even said you’re important to her in your own weird way, which is pretty high praise. She’s just playing the same game as you, the one where you only ever say rude things to hide the fact that you actually get on quite well,” said Enid. She paired this with a pointed look.

Wednesday scoffed in return. But then said, “Fine, I will be ‘nice’. But so too will they. You deserve nothing less.”

“Deal,” agreed Enid. “Now, only one more thing before you go and de-stink.”

“I do not stink,” protested Wednesday. “What is it?”

“You owe me, one, a date. Not just on the school grounds. Into town, for at least coffee and cake, if not dinner. Our walks are cute, but you’d better romance me for this, Addams! And, two, you don’t have to apologise to the Nightshades. And, god, please don’t bother apologising to Bruno or your creepy little fan club, they had it coming. But you will be coming to the cafeteria for dinner tonight, sitting with all of us, and, the clincher, making small talk.”

“That is a worse threat than any that I issued,” said Wednesday, looking genuinely a little bit shaken.

But Enid just smirked, before adding, “But the risk of not complying is even higher, is it not? You wouldn’t want”—she let her eyes widen, and even forced them to water a little—“to disappoint your beloved, would you?”

“You’re evil. I should never have allowed myself to corrupt you, or to be corrupted by you.”

“Love you too, Wends.”

A sigh. “And I love you, dearest heart.”