Credit to: Ruby_Bear2919
Wednesday Friday Addams. Born on January 13th, 2006. On a Friday.
Her mother named her after a line in her favorite poem; "Wednesday's child is full of woe." Yet, anyone who saw the young Addams would first say they didn't see it. With bright hair, eyes, and a smile, it was easy to assume she was the friendly type. However, anyone who got closer saw the manic glint, the morbid curiosity, and the genuinely horrifying grin that spelled danger.
The pale girl was nothing but an Addams through and through. Her uncle Fester made sure of it.
Though she never met the pair, with Morticia dying after giving birth and Gomez of heartbreak soon after, Wednesday felt as close as she could be to her parents. Fester told her about the duels with Gomez, the beautiful garden Morticia cared for, and most importantly, their unwavering love. He insisted every code, tradition, and memory of Wednesday's late parents into her.
The pale girl once asked if he romanticized their actions or took creative liberty with his stories. He quickly showed them all the recordings he had taken. Some without their knowledge and some with them smiling into the camera. Immediately, she knew what she wanted. She wanted to love and be loved the way her parents had. Wholeheartedly and deadly.
However, she refused to become a feral, heartache-ridden buffoon like her uncle. She would embody class like her mother and be entirely unabashed like her father.
Cut to the present.
The principal escorted the pale witch to her dorm room as Fester was indisposed with the police of another country. The tall woman mentioned a roommate, which caused little concern to the Addams. She didn't see herself staying long and instead wanted to join her uncle, as school was a cesspool for inferiority complexes and unimaginative drones.
At the top of Ophelia Hall was her room. Wednesday was surprised to see vibrant colors filling the left side of the room. It tortured the young Addams. There wasn't anyone else in the room, and Wednesday wondered if she saw her roommate mingling among the crowds.
"Your roommate is a young werewolf by the name of Enid Sinclair. I'll let you settle in as I find Ms. Sinclair so that she may introduce herself and show you around." Weems said with a curt nod.
"If my roommate attacks me, do I have permission to mount her head on my wall?"
Wednesday had asked playfully, yet the uncanny smile had Larisa second-guessing herself. But, as soon as the ghostly girl laughed, Weems relaxed and laughed with her.
"I jest. Mounting her head would be a mercy. Now, I could use a new rug." Wednesday said with a smile and chuckle.
Now that she was alone in her room, Wednesday placed her shoulder bag on the empty desk. Thing, who had stowed in her bag, crawled out and stretched.
"If you are going to stay, then be helpful lest you find yourself missing more than a body." she smiled darkly over her shoulder at the severed hand.
Thing bowed, as Wednesday was the heir to the Addams name and fortune. Slowly, they began the process of making their half of the room comfortable, and they were just about finished when the door opened and then slammed shut.
"Stupid pack furs. Stupid scars. Fuck them-.... Uh, hi?"
Wednesday turned around, and her heart stopped. Quite literally. The pain in her chest burned until Thing gave a running leap into her back.
Wednesday's mind raced with what to say.
(Rule One: An Addams is afraid of nothing. For the most frightening thing in existence is an Addams.... By the devil himself. She is beautiful.)
Though she wouldn't admit it, she was apprehensive as new emotions plagued her chest. Wednesday wondered if this is how her father felt seeing Morticia for the first time.
"Ah, excuse my rude behavior. I'm Wednesday Friday Addams. And you must be Enid Sinclair." The pale girl smiled at the taller girl as she stepped forward.
(Grace and confidence.)
Enid Sinclair. A tall raven-haired girl with scars across her face. The young Addams could see the restlessness in the deep blue eyes, even though the girl averted her gaze to the floor. Wednesday bowed at the waist, trying to catch the werewolf's eyes.
A twinge of red at the corners of the werewolf's eyes and dried salt caused the Addams to pause.
"You were crying."
The statement caught the tall girl off guard, and she turned her back to the witch.
"I have no reason to cry."
"Hmm, your entrance causes me to believe otherwise," Wednesday said pointedly as she stood straight and walked around to the girl's front.
Enid looked at the shorter girl, noticing she had crossed onto the werewolf's side of the room.
"Please go back to your side...." her voice was small, and the seer felt compelled to listen.
"I believe storming into our now shared space and cursing 'them' would warrant some form of emotion. Now, one can cry because any one or many emotions."
As the shorter girl spoke, she walked to her own bed, where her large trunk rested on the floor. She reached inside, pulling out several weapons. Daggers, crossbows, wooden stakes, a few short swords, until all that is left are a carefully wrapped repier that once belonged to her father and chains made of silver. She left that latter in the chest and returned all the other, less elegant, weapons to rest on top.
Enid only watched in silence as the witch stood inspecting the blade with an almost hungry smile. And when that gaze fell on the werewolf, everything in her told her to run and hide. But she could only manage to stagger backward as the other girl walked up, closing the distance. She was about to warn the Addams again about intruding into her space, but the shorter girl stopped a good foot from the middle. The sudden stop from the girl left the taller of the two to look up in surprise, and now that the witch was closer, she could see a hint of softness in the eyes.
Wednesday, relenting that she couldn't get a closer look at Enid's face, studied it from afar instead, respecting the girl's boundaries.
(Rule Two: Nothing is above an Addams honor. Pride can be bent and then reformed. But integrity shattered can not be mended.)
From the way the werewolf looked away to the faint lines where her brows would furrow, Wednesday could see all the pain the werewolf ever felt. It was like studying an open wound that had been refused, repeatedly, time to close and heal.
So, the seer clipped her sword around her waist and stood tall.
"Headmistress Weems informed me you would show me the grounds in more detail. Though, if you wish to stay in our dorm, I only mind that you will not be there accompanying me with your beauty." It was stated as a fact Wednesday had known her entire life and with a slight lilt in her tone.
It only encouraged the shorter more when she saw a light dusting of pink on Enid's cheeks. And with a newfound pride at being the one to elicit such a pleasant reaction, Wednesday waited for an answer.
"... I- no I have to... we can- I can show you around. Later... though." The werewolf stumbled through her words, which only brought a broader smile to the other girl's lips.
"Hm, very well. However, justice must be swift. So, I am going to hunt down these 'pack furs', as you put it, and allow them the honor of being the first to wet my blade," Wednesday bowed politely with a simple flourish of steel before walking to the door, "Well, the first at this school."
And with a simple grin at the stunned girl, the shorter of the two shut the door behind her.
_____
It didn't take a genius to realize "furs" meant werewolves. So, with ease and a blade to the throat of every werewolf she saw, Wednesday was pointed to a small group of teens yipping and howling with laughter.
(Rule Three: Commit to your decision. An Addams word is their bond even to themselves.)
"Hello!" Wednesday said in a faux cheerful tone and a sickeningly sweet smile as she hid her blade behind her back.
The table stopped their conversation and looked toward the new student. Some gave the air a curious sniff, others a more defensive one. But, as they found only pleasant scents from the girl, like gentle ripples in water, they relaxed.
"I was curious if you spoke to Enid Sinclair last. She told me she would show me the grounds, but I don't see her around."
"Oh, that freak? Ha, less of a talk and more of a reminder of where she stands. But if you need someone to show you around-"
"Addams!"
Low growls shook the table while a black-haired werewolf stood several yards away.
Enid was panting lightly as she stood with her head down and hid her eyes behind her hair. A few other werewolves bristled in their seats, and though she was no werewolf, Wednesday could smell fear on them.
"You come back for a fight, Enid? I thought you'd have more self-preservation as the last Sinclair." The boy speaking before stood and made strides toward a cowering Enid.
The tall girl whimpered softly at his venomous tone. What caught Wednesday's eyes, however, was the scrunched face, set jaw, and flexed hands as claws slowly grew from her nails.
Enid was holding something back, and that boy getting closer was making it worse.
(Him.)
"Oh, hello."
The boy stopped as the witch stood between Enid and him. He noticed that the girl's scent had changed to a hot acid that came off in waves.
"It's obscene not to excuse yourself from a conversation," Wednesday said with a crooked smile.
"What? Look, get out of my-"
"I understand the importance of maintaining dominance within your pack and fighting off threats. But it's clear my darling wolf enjoys her personal space, and you are several feet too close." Now she let the blade fall into view.
With a confident step forward, Wednesday stuck out her blade, but the boy made no effort to move away.
(Rule Three: If you enact a duel, intend to finish it, even to your death.)
"What would you prefer, fur boots or rug, mi luna?" Wednesday asked, looking over her shoulder to see a blushing werewolf.
Her heart constricted as those eyes filled with confusion and wonder. But a low growl broke the moment, and worry covered the addictive beauty Wednesday craved.
"It's worse to interrupt a conversation."
Dark anger boiled in the pale girl as she turned to a charging mass of claws and fangs. With a grin so wide that the points of her canines glinted and her dimples deepened, Wednesday relished the thrill of being a defender for the first time.
Sidestep, slice the calf. Duck, bleed the waist. Deflect, and carve the chest. Jump, impale the palm. Pin the wrist, kick the face.
Now with the boy facing the sky from the ground, he grunted as Wednesday stood on his chest. His low growl was quickly muted as a bloody sword point came to his throat.
"Yield. You've lost this fight, mutt." The tone was cold, but the happy smile threw the boy off.
He knew what she wanted. If he gave up, that would tarnish the faith placed in him, and the furs would defier all responsibility to the winner. But as he looked around, he saw that it had already happened. It was too easy for the girl, too quick, and the pale girl over him was savoring the victory. He lost.
"I yield..." and with that, he relinquished any power he may have had.
Wednesday only smiled more before looking up at the frozen werewolf, like a gladiator in the area, looking for mercy or death.
"Cara mia, shall I dispose of him?"
Enid saw the crazed grin, the speckles of blood across the cheek, and the wholly devoted look in the seer's eyes.
Then she saw the disbelief in the crowd. It was an unseen power shift. With Wednesday, the victor, looking to Enid for the next step.
"Don't..." it was a soft answer, as anything above a whisper would break the girl.
Wednesday looked down momentarily, ready to step away but something else had her jumping like she had been burned.
"Wednesday. Please."
Those two simple words had her rapier sheathed and the shorter girl ready to get on one knee.
"Mi hermosa loba, do not beg or plead with me for anything you desire. Though the sound is music to my ears, I will not survive if you do."
A darker blush appeared this time.
(A dislike for bloodshed, even if it's her enemy. However, shows of devotion prove effective.)