hi, we are sum friends who really love to write wenclair and wednesday fanfiction! we decided to start this page to collaborate and share our writing. if you have any requests, feel free to leave them in our askbox.
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I will probably just write this myself someday but
A fic where the Stalker is revealed to be Yoko. Much like Rowan, she has convinced herself that Wednesday is dangerous, and wants to keep her bestie Enid from getting hurt again. Unlike Rowan, she was radicalized by MorningSong, whose "therapy" app actually exaggerates fear and doubt to dangerous extremes.
letters, knives, and second chances | wenclair
wednesday addams x enid sinclair
description: wednesday and enid receive a note from wendesday's stalker, leading to revelations that they never could have expected.
tags/warnings: stalker, stalking, post-canon.
wc: 3.5k
a/n: thank you kbb306 for this amazing request, and our first one no less :) we apologize for a tiny delay! we've been trying to balance our own writing with this blog too. and we're very excited to share our first co-written req!! we do have another requested one shot in the works, and feel free to request more guys we LOVE when you do! enjoy this lil one ;) - jes & aly
The metallic clang of the cafeteria doors echoed behind Wednesday as she emerged, the lingering taste of lukewarm gruel a bitter reminder of Nevermore’s culinary shortcomings. The midday sun was casting its usual shadows across the cobblestone courtyard; yet something felt amiss. The distorted patches of darkness seemed to cause an unease in Wednesday, one that had long taken root since her return to school.
Two months had passed since the harrowing events that had nearly torn Nevermore apart, and the scars were still visible. The manicured lawns bore the scorch marks of battle, the stone gargoyles seemed to leer with a newfound malevolence, and the whispers of students now carried an undercurrent of fear that hadn’t been there before.
Wednesday tugged her blazer tighter around her, a futile attempt to ward off the growing chill. Even her usually vibrant roommate had subdued, her infectious laughter now punctuated by moments of quiet introspection. It was as if the darkness that had threatened to consume them all had left a permanent stain.
As Wednesday made her way back to the dorm, her mind drifted to Enid’s therapy session. The new therapist, a chipper woman with a penchant for pastel sweaters and motivational posters, had arrived in the wake of the chaos, a self-proclaimed expert in trauma recovery. Enid had embraced the sessions with her usual enthusiasm, but Wednesday remained skeptical. Could a few platitudes and breathing exercises truly mend the wounds inflicted by a centuries-old monster?
Lost in her thoughts, Wednesday rounded the corner. Only to be jolted back to reality by an unexpected sight. Their door, usually firmly shut, stood slightly ajar. A frown tugged at her lips as she approached, her pace quickening with each step. Had Enid forgotten to close it before leaving? Or had someone else ventured into their shared space, disturbing the delicate balance they had carefully constructed?
The air hung heavy with an unfamiliar scent, a subtle blend of cedarwood and something floral, decidedly not Enid’s usual werewolf musk. A chill slithered down Wednesday’s spine. With a soft push, the door creaked open.
The room appeared undisturbed at first glance. Enid’s collection of stuffed animals were still perched on her bed, their wide eyes watching Wednesday with an unnerving intensity. And her overflowing bookshelf of romance novels and werewolf folklore remained untouched. Even Wednesday’s typewriter sat calmly on her desk, a half-finished poem visible in its carriage.
But as her eyes adjusted, a discordant detail pierced the illusion of normalcy. A crisp white envelope laying on the inky blackness of her bedspread. It was intrusion, a violation of her personal space that set her teeth on edge.
With a measured step, Wednesday approached the bed. Her eyes fixed on the envelope as she reached out to brush her fingers against the smooth paper. It was unsealed, an invitation to delve into its contents.
She swiftly slid her finger beneath the flap and tore it open. A single sheet of paper, thick and heavy, fell into her hand. The handwriting was an attempt at elegance, but held an obvious note of sloppiness. Yet it wasn’t how the letters were penned that unnerved her, but the words themselves.
“Dearest Wednesday,” the letter began, “Your darkness casts a long shadow, a blight on the innocence of Nevermore. I see the danger you pose, the poison you spread with your twisted words and morbid obsessions. Enid, my dear sweet Enid, deserves better than to be ensnared by your darkness.”
A cold fury ignited in Wednesday’s chest. But she read on, each word twisting the knot in her stomach tighter.
“I will not allow you to corrupt her any more than you have, to drag her further down your abyss. You will leave Nevermore, or I will ensure that Enid pays the price. Consider this a warning, a taste of a different darkness that awaits you, should you refuse to heed my words.”
The letter ended abruptly, the final sentence hanging venomously in the air. Wednesday’s grip tightened on the paper, her knuckles turning white as she fought to contain her rage. This was not a prank, not a childish attempt at intimidation. This was a declaration of war, a threat against the person she held most dear.
* * *
When Enid returned from therapy, she entered the dorm to see Wednesday furiously typing away, the familiar sound of the typewriter clacking aggressively. Enid’s eyebrow raised, though she didn’t question Wednesday’s anger. It could range from something serious to a minor inconvenience that had ruined her day. As logical as Wednesday was, Enid had to admit that sometimes she was quite brash.
It wasn’t the aggressive typing that worried Enid. Instead, it was the way Wednesday stood up and pulled the paper from the typewriter, crumpling it and flattening it down onto her desk. Thing was waiting there and kicked it into the waiting wastebasket. After that, the clacking sounds stopped. Wednesday sat at her desk and huffed a loud sigh.
“Everything okay?” Enid asked hesitantly. She’d beelined for her bed, laying down with her laptop resting on her legs. She had an essay due within the next few days, and she was terrible at getting them done on time. She had considered asking for help, but Wednesday’s apparent bad mood was enough to prevent her from doing so.
“I’m fine.” Wednesday answered briskly, not even bothering to turn around to face Enid. Instead she stared at her typewriter as if trying to burn a hole into it.
Enid hummed thoughtfully, then slid her laptop off her legs and onto the bed beside her. “You don’t seem fine.” Enid pointed out, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. The girl’s shoulders tensed and she turned, her permanent glare boring into Enid. “Yikes. Okay.” Enid immediately turned her attention back to her laptop, turning so her back was facing Wednesday.
Things were quiet for a moment, before she heard another long sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m simply frustrated. It seems my ability to write has conveniently decided to disappear.” There was a slight tremor in Wednesday’s voice. It was definitely more than that.
“Writer’s block?” Enid suggested, her gaze moving back to Wednesday. The raven was resting a hand on her temple, her elbow propped up on the desk.
“Absolutely not. I have never once been afflicted with writer’s block and I certainly will not begin to be now.” Wednesday drummed her fingers on her desk.
Enid’s sensitive hearing picked up on the drumming. Her eyebrow rose in a skeptical expression. “Maybe something else is bothering you?”
Wednesday froze at the remark. Enid tilted her head. That was an indication of her being correct. It seemed clear enough to her that something else was going on inside of Wednesday’s head. Something that was bothering her. “What’s wrong?”
Enid watched as her roommate looked at her, then averted her gaze, then looked at her again. She was unsure, nervous, even. “I received another message from my stalker.”
Enid perked up, sitting up straight in her bed upon hearing the news. “Really? What was it?”
“A threat.” Wednesday said ominously, opening the drawer at the side of her desk and pulling a letter out of it.
Enid got on her feet, swiftly crossing the line between their two halves and taking the letter from Wednesday once it was offered to her. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper, and with each line she felt more nauseated.
“‘My dear sweet Enid’?” Enid quoted the letter, frowning. “Whoever wrote this clearly has no idea who you are.” She felt anger of her own festering in her chest, building up. Who did this person think they were? Insulting Wednesday and their friendship. As if Enid was too weak to be friends with someone like Wednesday.
Enid was tired of being seen as weak.
“I have a relatively good idea of who it might be.” Wednesday’s burning glare returned back to the paper loaded in her typewriter. “Who else would refer to you that way? It must be Ajax.” There was a sort of bitterness in her voice. It wasn’t aggressive enough to be anger, but it wasn’t placid enough to be just a simple dislike. It was deeper than that. Enid wondered if she was overthinking it, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Wednesday was jealous.
“That’s true.” Enid’s eyebrows furrowed. “But he’s never called me ‘dear’ or ‘sweet’.”
“A failure of a partner, if you ask me.” Wednesday grumbled under her breath.
Enid blinked. “That’s a little harsh.”
“Not harsh enough. I should have nailed his heart to a wall before you two reached whatever you define it to be now.” Wednesday looked up at Enid, who was staring down at her with a confused expression.
Enid sighed softly. “It’s complicated.” She quickly muttered, not particularly in the mood to detail how the best word she could use to describe what she and Ajax had was “situationship”.
“That’s what they all say.” Wednesday bit back, turning her gaze back to the blank piece of paper in front of her.
“Okay, well-” Enid started to argue, then paused and took a deep breath. “That’s besides the point. What are we supposed to do about this stalker?”
A smile tugged at the corner of Wednesday’s lips. “I could always build another makeshift guillotine.”
“Wednesday, no.” Enid huffed. “Something that doesn’t involve killing my…” She hesitated, “...him.” She finished, unsure once again how to describe Ajax.
Wednesday scoffed. “You’d be better off without him.”
Enid waved her off. “That’s besides the point.” She rubbed her temple with two fingers, starting to get a headache from Wednesday’s one-sided hatred of Ajax. “Why don’t we just talk to him?”
“I suppose. But I’m bringing a knife with me.”
Enid already knew that Wednesday wasn’t going to budge on that point, so she didn’t bother trying to fight it. “Fine.” She said lowly. Wednesday was already standing up and moving to her bed, kneeling down and reaching underneath it. “Wait, you mean right now?”
“Yes, right now. We need to get to the bottom of this immediately. These letters are unacceptable.” Wednesday pulled a small box out from under her bed, opening it to reveal an intricate dagger.
“You don’t-” Enid rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine.” She agreed begrudgingly once again. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”
“Alright.” Wednesday stood up, hiding the dagger in her sleeve, and began walking towards the door, Enid in tow as usual. The two of them exited the dorm, bent on ending this “stalker” business right then and there.
The quad at Nevermore was a microcosm of the school’s social hierarchy. Flocks of sirens gossiped near the fountains, their scales shimmering in the afternoon light. A group of gorgons, their stony gazes fixed on chessboards, hurled under the shade of the outside trees. And nestled in the corner, at a small stony table, was Ajax Petropolus sitting beside Bianca Barclay.
Wednesday and Enid approached the pair. Enid’s usually bouncy gait was tempered by a hint of apprehension as she trailed behind Wednesday’s, whose stride remained as purposeful as ever. Her eyes were fixed on their target with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey.
Ajax, oblivious to their approach, was mid-sentence. Bianca, her eyes half-closed against the sun, seemed to be humoring him with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Petropolus,” Wednesday’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
Ajax’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the sight of Wednesday and Enid standing before him. A nervous smile flickered across his face before it was quickly replaced by a look of feigned nonchalance.
“Yo, Wednesday, Enid,” he greeted them with a casual nod of his head. “What’s up?”
Wednesday’s lips curled in disgust. “Don’t,” she snapped, the word dripping with venom. “We have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you.”
Enid, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward in an attempt to be a calming counterpoint to Wednesday’s iciness. “Ajax, we need to talk about the letters,” she said, her eyes searching his face.
Ajax blinked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. “Letters?” he echoed, his voice tinged with genuine confusion. “What letters?”
Bianca tilted her head, even her expression betrayed a hint of bewilderment. “You mean fan mail, Enid?” she quipped, a playful lilt to her voice. “Saving Nevermore isn’t taken lightly. You’ve got quite the following now I see.”
Enid’s patience, already stretched thin, snapped. “Not fan mail, Bianca,” she retorted, her voice rising an octave. “Threatening letters. From Wednesday’s stalker.”
The word hung in the air. Ajax’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, while Bianca’s demeanor was replaced by a mask of guarded curiosity.
“A stalker?” Ajax repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “But who would…?”
Wednesday cut him off with a chillingly calm voice, her eyes narrowing to slits. “You tell us, Petropolus,” she hissed, her words dripping with accusation. “You seem awfully confused, perhaps suspiciously so.”
Ajax recoiled under Wednesday’s piercing gaze. “Woah, Wednesday,” he stammered slightly, raising his hands in a gesture of defense. “I don’t know anything about any stalker. What even makes you think that?”
That’s when Bianca stepped in, her voice sharp and defensive. “Back off, Wednesday,” she snapped. “Ajax is the last person who would do something like this. He’s been nothing but kind and supportive to Enid—”
Wednesday was quick to interrupt with a scoff. “Kind and supportive?” she echoed, a venomous edge to her voice. “Or perhaps he’s simply following a well-trodden path of deception, lulling us into a false sense of security while harboring sinister intentions.”
Ajax flinched as if struck, his face paling under the intensity of her accusation. Bianca bristled, her lips forming a thin line of displeasure.
Enid, however, had reached her limit. She stepped forward, her voice a low growl. “Enough, Wednesday,” she hissed. “You’re being unfair now. Ajax… isn’t him.”
A tense silence descended upon them. Wednesday was momentarily taken aback by the outburst, remaining silent as the implications seeped into her. It stung. But there was a creeping sense that perhaps Enid was right.
After a beat, Ajax finally spoke, his voice a hesitant plea. “Enid, I don’t get it,” he said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What did the letter even say? What kind of threats are we talking about?”
Enid’s breath hitched, the words of the letter had been a sour taste on her tongue. “It said,” she began, lowering her voice, “something about Wednesday being a ‘danger’... a ‘blight on the innocence of Nevermore’. It says that I… I deserve better than to be ‘ensnared by her darkness’.” She paused for a moment, tracing her mind back to what else the letter had said. A knot formed in her stomach as she remembered the rest, the threat to her own safety. Enid couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Such theatrics,” she muttered, a hint of disgust lacing her tone. “One would think we were dealing with a Shakespearean villain, not some cowardly stalker hiding behind vague threats and flowery language.”
Bianca dismissively waved her hand. “Sounds like the kind of fear-mongering nonsense MorningSong’s ‘wellness app’ is always peddling,” she scoffed, the disdain evident. “All that talk of darkness and danger, it’s enough to make one paranoid.”
“MorningSong?” Wednesday echoed, deceptively calm. “Who here subscribes to that drivel?”
Ajax shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his eyes darting nervously towards Bianca. “Yoko,” he blurted out, the name a low mumble.
Enid’s eyes widened. “Yoko has that app?” Her voice was filled with incredulity.
“I told her not to get it.” Bianca hummed pensively, shaking her head. “But she said it was just a joke, that she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I didn’t think she’d take it seriously.”
Wednesday’s expression darkened. “Well. I suppose we know who our stalker is. Good thing I brought a knife.”
“You brought a what?” Ajax blinked, watching closely as Wednesday gestured towards her sleeve.
“It’s Wednesday. What were you expecting?” Bianca grumbled sarcastically.
Enid waved them off. “Does it really matter? Let’s just go find Yoko and talk to her. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. She knows what we’ve been through. It’s gotta be that stupid app.”
“Good luck.” Bianca called as they walked away, settling back down next to Ajax, who looked as confused as always.
“When I find that vampire, I’m going to shove a stake through her heart.” Wednesday hissed under her breath. The two of them made their way to Yoko’s dorm, Wednesday fuming and Enid feeling more unsure with each step.
When they finally arrived, Enid went to knock on the door, but Wednesday simply shoved it open with no regard of who might be on the other side or what they might be doing.
“Tanaka.” Wednesday practically growled, entering the room like an ominous storm cloud.
Yoko was sitting at her desk, her laptop open in front of her. She jolted, her shoulders tensing. She whipped around in her chair, staring directly at both Wednesday and Enid, a nervous smile flickering over her face. “Uh… Hey, Enid. Wednesday.” She greeted, her voice shaking slightly.
“Care to explain your pathetic letters?” Wednesday stormed over to Yoko, slamming her hand onto the desk and leaning over the vampire.
“Wednesday-” Enid started.
She was promptly cut off by Yoko, who stood up. Given Wednesday’s small stature, Yoko stood a few inches taller than her, looking down at her with a glare. “I’ll explain it alright. Enid wouldn’t have been hurt by the Hyde if it wasn’t for you. She wouldn’t have come crying to my dorm if it wasn’t for you. All you do is hurt her, Wednesday. You’re dangerous and reckless.”
Wednesday was clearly ready to fight, but Enid crossed the room and put space between the two of them, holding her arm out in front of Wednesday. “Yoko, where is this all coming from? You were there the night we fought the Hyde. You were there the night she saved the school. You know what happened.”
Yoko hesitated, shoving her hands into her pockets. “This app I downloaded. It was telling me that something dark and foreboding was coming. I kept getting stuff like that, and the only thing I could think of… given she was the reason everything happened in the first place…”
“That app spews nonsense in exchange for popularity. You are a fool for taking anything it tells you to heart.” Wednesday snapped, barely able to hold back her anger. “You should have known better.”
Yoko seemed unsure of herself now, her shoulders slumping. “I… I just wanted what was best for Enid.”
Enid sighed softly. There wasn’t any anger in her expression, and her tone was gentle. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Yoko. I know you care, but Wednesday and I care about each other. And we’ve worked out our issues.” She looked back at Wednesday, whose demeanor had softened. “She would fight for me in a heartbeat. Even if she refuses to admit it.”
Wednesday grumbled something under her breath. Enid didn’t hear it, though she was sure that it was yet another empty threat.
“Come on, Yoko. You know better than this.” Enid chided quietly. “Delete the app, and all is forgiven.”
“Who says all is forgiven?” Wednesday asked, straightening her posture. Until Enid glared at her and she relented. “Fine.”
Yoko took her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through it and deleting MorningSong from it. “It’s gone.” She flipped her phone around, showing both Wednesday and Enid that it was completely gone. “I only got it as a joke, I wasn’t expecting it to be so effective.”
“It’s all about psychology. If you had any sense of logic, you would realize that.” Wednesday relaxed now that the threat was gone, her tone less abrasive.
“Now that that’s over with…” Enid started, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think you two should have some bonding time! It’ll be great. My two besties, getting along!”
“Absolutely not-” Wednesday tried to object, but was immediately cut off by Enid.
“We should go get coffee at the Weathervane to celebrate! And Yoko, you should definitely bring Divina. We’ll become a gang, the four of us!” She raised her hands to her chest, balling them into fists. Excitement was radiating off of her. Excitement so genuine, that not even Wednesday could deny her wishes.
“Alright, stop your incessant jabbering.” Wednesday turned to exit the dorm, glancing back at Yoko. “Meet us in the quad in fifteen minutes sharp, Tanaka.” She put an emphasis on the word “sharp”, wanting to be completely clear.
Yoko, who was stunned by the quick forgiveness, could only stand and nod as the two girls exited her dorm, Enid talking Wednesday’s ear off and Wednesday only able to listen grumpily as they walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder.
description: enid's world has been tilting lately, and even her fencing can't quite steady the ground beneath her. when a dizzy spell turns into something more, an unexpected carer steps out of the shadows – and wednesday addams isn't one for leaving things unattended.
tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, fainting, dizziness, sickness, post-canon.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: hi guys, so this is jes. i wrote this as a part of a new wenclair hurt/comfort oneshot series i'm going to be posting on my ao3 ('enidsunclair'), but we didn't want to leave you hanging with not posting yet... so i thought i'd post it to feed you all. enjoy.. hope it doesn't suck!
The blades clashed with a sharp ring that echoed off the high, vaulted ceilings of the Nevermore Academy fencing hall. Enid Sinclair’s usual grace and agility were noticeably absent this morning, her movements lagging as if she were wading through molasses. The metallic taste of adrenaline mixed uncomfortably with the hint of nausea that had been her constant companion these past few weeks. The dizzy spells had started as minor nuisances, easily brushed off as lack of sleep or perhaps skipping breakfast. But now, standing under the oppressive glare of the morning sun, Enid found the room tilting dangerously with each advance and retreat of her blade.
Her opponent, Divina, seemed unaware of Enid’s faltering state. She continued to lunge, and Enid’s responses were sluggish, her parries weak and off-center. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, mingling with strands of hair and plastering it to her skin. The weight of her saber felt tripled, and her grip on the handle was clammy.
“Enid, focus!” Coach Larue’s sharp voice cut through the muffled sounds of the hall, where the air was thickening with each moment. Normally, Enid thrived under the demanding gaze of their coach, her performance peaking when pushed. Today, however, each word felt like a leaden weight added to her already burdened shoulders.
Divina paused, tilting her head with a frown. “You okay? You’re usually not this…” She waved her hand vaguely, her expression one of concern.
“Just didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” Enid lied smoothly, forcing a grin that felt more like a grimace. She adjusted the grip on her saber, determined to shake off the encroaching dizziness that blurred the edges of her vision.
As they resumed, Enid tried to concentrate on Divina’s movements, the predictable rhythm of attack and defense. But the room spun faster with each step she took. After missing another block, the tip of Divina’s saber tapped lightly against her chest.
“That’s a point!” Divina declared, though her voice was tinged with reluctance.
From the sidelines, a dark figure watched with an intensity that missed nothing. Wednesday Addams, usually detached from the exploits of her more athletically inclined peers, noted the slight tremor in Enid’s stance. The too-bright smile, the way her eyes narrowed slightly as if focusing took more effort than it should. It was unlike Enid to show weakness, to allow any imperfection in her performance.
Wednesday’s observation was interrupted as Coach Larue clapped his hands, signaling the end of the bout. “Take five, everyone. Hydrate,” he commanded, his gaze lingering on Enid a moment longer than the rest.
Enid nodded, relieved, and made her way to the benches where water bottles and towels lay scattered. She grabbed her bottle, hands shaking so visibly that she almost dropped it before securing her grip. The coolness of the water was only a small relief against the heat flushing her cheeks. She glanced around, hoping no one noticed her unusual clumsiness, but her gaze accidentally met Wednesday’s. There was something unsettling in Wednesday’s scrutiny, something that made Enid’s stomach twist—not from sickness, but from a strange, unwelcome vulnerability.
Taking a deep breath, Enid tried to muster her usual cheerful demeanor. “Just a bad day, right?” she murmured to herself, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. She could hear the other students chatting, and the clinking of sabers as they clattered to the floor, the normal sounds of a typical morning that felt anything but normal to her.
As the room steadied slightly, Enid opened her eyes, only to find the world tilting alarming once more. The warning signs she had ignored were now impossible to dismiss, and as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her, the fencing hall dimmed into darkness. The sounds fading into a distant echo as she slumped sideways and the world went black.
Meanwhile, Wednesday’s attention had been frustratingly divided during the break. Xavier had chosen this exact moment to regale her with a strange encounter which, according to him, had happened just the other night in an abandoned wing of the school. “And then, the temperature dropped, just like that,” he was saying, snapping his fingers for emphasis.
Wednesday’s response was a noncommittal grunt. Her eyes, under the guise of watching the general activity, remained subtly but unwaveringly fixed on Enid. Even as Xavier’s voice grew louder, a peripheral blur of motion caught her attention—the unmistakable stagger of someone about to fall. It was Enid, her body faltering precariously as she slammed to the floor.
Without a word, Wednesday abruptly left Xavier mid-sentence, her legs carrying her across the room with a swiftness that betrayed her outward detachment. As she moved, her face was set in an unamused expression, masking the surge of adrenaline that was sharpening her focus. Students milling around the fallen figure of Enid parted with both surprise and irritation as Wednesday’s elbow nudged them aside, brooking no argument.
She reached Enid just as others began to notice the seriousness of the situation. Dropping to her knees, Wednesday’s usually steady and precise hands trembled as she checked for Enid’s pulse. It was there, strong but rapid, a small comfort that did little to ease the unusual tightness in her chest.
“Move back,” she ordered sharply to the gathering crowd, her voice carrying a cold authority that had several students stepping back immediately. “She needs air,” Wednesday continued, her gaze scanning the surroundings for anything that might aid in her efforts. Spotting Enid’s water bottle, she snatched it up, pressing it into the hands of Yoko who appeared nearby. “Keep this ready,” she said, the command clipped and precise. Yoko nodded and clutched the water bottle.
The commotion had attracted more attention now. Bianca hurried over, her expression tense, with Ajax following close behind as he pushed through students, and Divina approached with a worried frown.
Wednesday assessed them with a critical eye. “Ajax, go fetch Coach Larue. He just stepped out. Move!” Her command sliced through the air. Ajax pivoted immediately, his footsteps a scurry echo in the now quieter hall.
Bianca knelt beside Wednesday, her eyes wide. “What should we do?” she asked, ready to follow any instruction.
“Just keep back and give her space,” Wednesday snapped, her usual stoicism fraying at the edges. Turning her attention back to Enid, she noticed the faint flutter of eyelids, a sign of Enid stirring, though still not fully conscious.
Wednesday’s hand, though trembling slightly, was surprisingly gentle as she brushed against Enid’s forehead and swept away damp strands of hair. “Sinclair, why must you choose now to be overly dramatic?” she muttered, the words tinged with a brittle veneer of annoyance that barely masked her concern. “If you don’t wake up shortly, I’ll ensure all your meals are accompanied by an excruciatingly detailed analysis of your medical state, along with a risk assessment of every historical plague for the next month.”
Divina, hovering anxiously, wrung her hands. “Is she going to be okay?” Her voice was barely a whisper, gaze fixed on Enid.
“She will be if she follows the sensible course and wakes up now,” Wednesday retorted, though her eyes remained solely on Enid’s face, watching for any sign of improvement.
As the infirmary nurse, whomst had been summoned by Ajax, finally entered the hall, Enid’s eyelids flickered more noticeably, her consciousness teetering on the edge. She mumbled something incoherent, eyes attempting to focus on the crowd of faces.
Wednesday’s voice softened imperceptibly as she leaned closer, her hand now resting lightly on Enid’s cheek. “Enid, this is neither the time nor the place for a nap. Consider the lack of comfort,” she said bluntly.
Yoko, still holding the water bottle, looked from Enid to Wednesday. Her expression was torn between concern and slight amusement at Wednesday’s unusual and sudden display of attentiveness.
Enid’s eyes fluttered open, her vision setting hazily on Wednesday. “Wha—?” she murmured, disoriented.
“Stay still. You fainted,” Wednesday informed her, the clinical detachment back in her voice as if she had never left it. She straightened slightly, allowing the nurse space to enter the crowd. But her gaze remained intensely focused on Enid, ready to intercede if necessary.
The nurse, a brisk no-nonsense woman named Ms. Thorn, knelt beside Enid, her hands moving efficiently as she checked her vital signs. “Pulse is a bit fast, but strong,” she murmured, mostly to herself, as she placed a cool hand on Enid’s forehead, then shone a small flashlight briefly across her pupils, which responded sluggishly.
Enid blinked against the light, her consciousness waxing and waning like the phases of the moon. Ms. Thorn straightened, turning to address Wednesday and the smaller crowd that lingered. “She’s stable, but I’ll take her back to the infirmary for observation and further treatment. It’s best we keep her under watch for the next few hours.”
Wednesday’s eyes followed every move. As the declaration settled over the group, she rose, her decision made in the span of a heartbeat. “I’m accompanying her,” she stated, the edge in her voice daring anyone to challenge her.
It was then that Coach Larue entered the hall, Ajax trailing behind him. The coach’s brow furrowed as he took in the scene—the nurse, the anxious students, and Wednesday’s stance. “Addams, you need to stay. We have drills—”
“I’m not asking,” Wednesday interrupted, her tone cold.
Coach Larue’s mouth pressed into a thin line, the authority he wielded so confidently seemed to waver under Wednesday’s intense stare. There was a tense beat before he finally nodded, a slight, reluctant jerk of his head. “Very well. But return once she’s settled.”
Wednesday’s response was a terse nod, her attention already turning back to Enid as the coach walked away.
Ms. Thorn, having witnessed the exchange, merely shook her head at the usual absurdities of Nevermore students. She spoke into a small phone, requesting assistance from the infirmary. “We need a stretcher to the fencing hall,” she announced crisply.
Wednesday remained by Enid’s side, arms folded, and watchful gaze never straying. The earlier tremor in her hands had stilled, replaced by a calm that seemed almost out of place in the chaos of concern.
Enid’s awareness flickered once more, her eyes opening slightly to the sound of distant footsteps and the approaching murmur of voices. She tried to speak, a faint whisper escaping her lips. “Wednes…day?” Her voice was a shadow, barely audible over the growing hum of the gymnasium.
“Quiet now. You need your strength,” Wednesday instructed softly, more gently than anyone might have expected from her. The corners of her mouth twitched, the ghost of a reassuring smile.
The arrival of two additional nurses with a stretcher broke the momentary calm. They moved efficiently, gently lifting Enid onto the stretcher. Wednesday stepped back just enough to give them space, but her eyes, those deep wells of guarded emotion, remained locked on Enid’s face; watching her every breath, every flutter of her eyelids.
She had to be there. The raven had to protect her wolf.
* * *
After what felt like an eternity later, Wednesday was sitting beside Enid’s bed, looking the epitome of boredom. Beside her, on a small table, lay Thing, whom Wednesday occasionally whispered to. They were thoroughly discussing the symptoms of various diseases that could have caused Enid’s state.
But a faint groan from Enid broke the monotonous quiet, drawing Wednesday’s attention away from her morbid conversation. Enid’s attempt to sit up was feeble, her movements sluggish and pained.
“Don’t move,” Wednesday commanded softly, her voice low and unexpectedly gentle as she placed a firm hand on Enid’s shoulder and eased her back onto the pillow.
Enid complied, wincing slightly, brow furrowed in confusion. “What happened?” Her voice was weak, The events leading up to her current predicament were a muddled haze in her mind.
“You fainted during fencing. Dehydration, or perhaps something more sinister,” Wednesday explained, her tone matter-of-fact, stripping away any hint of the depth of her earlier anxiety. “You’ve been out for a few hours.”
Before Enid could process this information, the curtain around her bed rustled and a dramatic flair followed that only Yoko could manage. “That’s only half true, Enid!” Yoko proclaimed as she strode closer toward her best friend’s bedside. She flashed a conspiratorial grin at Wednesday, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.
Yoko continued, unabashed, “Wednesday was like a rabid dog protecting you, I swear! She was barking orders at everyone, and man, you should have seen her face when you were being wheeled away—like, you’d think someone had stolen her favorite knife or something.”
Wednesday's gaze on Enid shifted subtly, a flicker of embarrassment—or was it annoyance?—crossing her features. “Exaggeration is Yoko’s primary language,” she injected coolly, but the slight flush on her usually pale cheeks suggested otherwise.
Enid looked between Yoko and Wednesday, a slow smile forming on her lips as she absorbed the words. The image of Wednesday, so fiercely guarding her well-being, was both amusing and warming.
“Really now? Protecting me?” Enid’s voice carried a teasing lilt, her early discomfort momentarily forgotten.
Wednesday sighed, a sound of resignation escaping her as she met Enid’s gaze. “Perhaps I overreacted in my state of… unsettlement,” she conceded, her words clipped. “But let’s focus on your recovery. We wouldn’t want a repeat performance.”
Yoko laughed. “Oh, come on, Wednesday. Admit it. You’re all soft for E!” she teased, winking at Enid.
But Wednesday didn't reply, instead turning her gaze away to hide the ghost of a smile that threatened to betray her true feelings.
Yoko then playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m going to grab some juice,” she announced, already halfway past the curtain. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it.” With a wink and a final laugh, she slipped past it.
The room fell into a sudden, thick silence. Wednesday, whose gaze had followed Yoko out, now found herself alone with Enid. She turned slightly, her eyes locking with the wolf. The atmosphere felt heavy with everything that remained unsaid.
Enid’s heart thudded uncomfortably loud in her chest. With a shaky breath, she shifted on the bed, the simple white sheets crinkling under her movement. Painstakingly, and mindful of her still-dizzy head, she sat up and edged closer to Wednesday.
Wednesday watched her, motionless, her expression unreadable. The usual barriers she erected, the walls that guarded her thoughts and feelings, seemed momentarily thinner, more translucent.
Reaching out with a tentative hand, Enid’s fingers brushed against Wednesday’s. Gathering her courage, she leaned forward and, with a gentle, almost reverent touch, placed a kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.
The contact was brief, a soft press of lips against cool skin. But it held more weight than any word could.
For a long moment, Wednesday remained frozen, her eyes wide. The mask that so often clung to her features had cracked. A flush, rare and startling, crept up to her cheeks and painted a bloom of color that was usually absent from her pallor.
The world seemed to hold its breath. Things were changing.
And Wednesday Addams, for once in her meticulously curated life, would not have it any other way.
Hi I just wanna say I cannot wait to read what you both come up with. As someone who absolutely loves Wenclair and their chaos, I look forward to seeing what you give us as treats.
Question, for both of you: Who do you think confessed their feelings first and how did they express such feeling ? (:
hi!! thank you so much for the question and for stopping by on our blog :) we lowkey had the same answers for our question so we just merged them together
our favorite thing to see in fanon is wednesday trying to court enid using things like dead animals and stuff because like sharing hunts and stuff is usually how wolves form bonds with each other.
but what we think would most likely to happen between them given our understanding of their characters (honestly it could go any number of ways given how interesting and unique their dynamic and characters are, but this is our favorite)?
enid confesses her feelings one day to a very confused wednesday. it's abrupt and isn't very well thought out. enid would usually be one to plan something romantic, but wednesday makes her so nervous. she had been thinking about it for the past few weeks, past few months, even. the pining is literally KILLING her so she finally just blurts out impulsively that she has feelings for wednesday as they're sitting in their dorm room doing their own things. wednesday was at her typewriter, and she instantly stops typing the minute enid tells her. wednesday is confused, as she thought that her and enid were already as close as they could possible get and didn't realize there was another more intimate stage they could reach (basically girlypop thought her and enid were practically dating, just without all the pda). once enid talks her through it, wednesday understands and realizes that she has those same feelings for enid. boom.
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dailybridgerton
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