Chapter Text
A raven-haired woman sits in front of her typewriter, mulling over the direction she wishes to take her chapter. Hair cascades in waves over her shoulders, released from its usual twin braids to glint in the light like a spider’s eye. She stares at the glass of wine sitting on her desk as though the deep red liquid holds some secret she can glean through its study alone. She is well aware of the need to finish the last chapters of her most recent instalment. Her editor has sent countless requests for the manuscript over the past few weeks and has been remarkably tolerant of the myriad of violent threats which were returned. With an exasperated sigh, she reaches out for the glass of wine. It has stood untouched since her dinner several hours earlier.
As the glass touches her lips her phone lights up, buzzing incessantly from its place on the desk. The woman resolves to ignore it until she spots the caller's name. Yoko Tanaka. How intriguing. Carefully setting down the glass, she picks up the phone with disdain and taps her finger on the green button.
"Yes?" She's careful not to invite intrigue into her voice, speaking in a measured tone.
The woman on the other end is breathing heavily. As she speaks, her voice breaks, cracking with heavy emotion.
"Wednesday, I— I fucked up. I know it’s late, and we're like… not really close, but I need your help." She pauses for a moment before dropping to a whisper. "…Please."
Wednesday Addams narrows her eyes and considers the options. She can, of course, hang up the phone and continue her writing like her editor would most certainly prefer. But there's a spike of curiosity in her chest. She tolerates the caller, a woman who had earned a mote of her respect once upon a time, but it couldn’t be said that they were friends. She feels the need to investigate, the need to know more. A hunger was dawning in her chest.
Wednesday is well aware of her flaws. She's better now at keeping her pride in check, but her insatiable curiosity has hauled her over the coals many times before. Whenever she becomes curious it mutates into a primal need to know more. Without exception. Logic has a tendency to fail her in those captivating moments.
"Where are you?" Her voice stays monotone, betraying none of the interest that is beginning to consume her.
Wednesday pulls on her shoes and listens to the directions given. Taking her jacket from the coat rack, she casts a glance back into the apartment, gaze settling on the bedroom door. There is a twinge of guilt – she’s already stayed up writing much longer than she had said she would. It spurs a hesitation, albeit momentary, until she sighs and pushes the feeling aside.
When Wednesday steps outside of the building the night air greets her crisply. She sets off in a brisk walk, unable to resist glaring at the people muddling through their tedious, innocent nightlives.
It is only fifteen minutes later when she turns into a dark alleyway, noise from the city fading into an innocuous ambience. She pauses, suspended at the entrance, to take in the scene before her. On the ground, in scarlet contrast to the piles of rubbish and grime that frame them, are two bodies. The first is that of a young woman, a deep, clean cut splitting her throat, with lifeless eyes, frozen wide in terror. Blood pools around her, sinking into the cracks of the cold concrete where it has begun to congeal in a dark stain.
Wednesday's eyes drink in the second body, that of a young man. His throat is similarly drenched in blood, but it is clear that he died far more violently than the woman beside him. His throat has been torn into savage shreds of muscle and tissue, viscera hanging from the mess. A fiendish smile pulls at Wednesday’s lips, curling at the sight of such delicious butchery.
A sniffling draws Wednesday's attention to a third, final body in the alley crouched some distance away. She's dressed with creative intention, tailored clothing now jarringly slick with blood. Her lips drip red, mouth and jaw wet with it. Her long, dark hair spills down, wildly sticking to the gore. Loath though she is to admit it, Wednesday finds the candid look a rather attractive statement for the vampire.
The woman locks, senses the new presence, begins to shake.
"I didn't— He just— The blood just made me so…" Her eyes lift from the body to Wednesday, filled with dread, and she continues, "…it made me so hungry. "
Wednesday moves over to the vampire she’s so unfortunately familiar with and a feeling, a feeling that she doesn't quite fully understand, prompts her to reach out a hand. The moment Yoko's tentative own touches hers, so cautious in the face of unexpected gentleness, Wednesday’s head snaps back. Rigid, gasping, the world melts away.
⚞ ⚠☣⚠ [gore, death, mugging] ⚠☣⚠ ⚟
I'm walking down the alleyway and trepidation pierces my heart. I've walked these streets a thousand times before, but tonight something feels different. Tonight, something feels wrong.
Moments before I reach the alley’s end there is a figure pouncing in front of me, face twisted cruelly. He opens his mouth and screeches.
"Give me all your money, bitch! I want your purse, your jewellery, your phone!" Our eyes lock. I see the panic there, spiking with adrenaline. My heart thumps in response and threatens to break out, urging me to move, to get away. I should run, run, RUN—
But I stay, statue-like, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breathe. Why? Why is that? Why can’t I—
"Don't fucking look at me!" he shrieks, pulling a knife from his pocket. I'm frozen, my blood liquid nitrogen. My feet have been rooted to the grimy concrete. I watch in horror, helplessly unable to act as his wide, staring eyes burn with anger.
"I swear to fucking god, I'll slice your fucking throat, bitch!"
I can't move, can’t do anything to save myself. All I feel is the piercing silence in my bones, my flesh turning achingly, numbingly to stone. My lungs are bursting. Why can't I breathe? Why can't I move?
The man lunges, eyes possessed. The spell breaks, I fall to the ground, warmth coursing from my neck. Sirens break through the night, withdrawing as everything darkens. The last glimpse of life I see is a woman coming up behind my murderer. His scream, horrific, is my grim, fulfilling coda.
⚞ ☥⚕☥ – ⚠☣⚠ – ☥⚕☥ ⚟
Wednesday comes back to herself, gasping for air. She steps back and reels from the murdered woman’s emotion. It lingers, like a hangover, like the panic in a nightmare’s wake. Her hands raise up to her throat, expecting the warm wetness of blood but finding only dry skin. Yoko stands in front of her, hands gripping her shoulders to keep her upright.
"What did you see, Wednesday?" Yoko whispers. Her voice is shaking.
Wednesday opens her mouth but doesn't make a sound. Her eyes are wide, swimming with some emotion that chills Yoko to the bone. For the first time since she has known Wednesday, Yoko watches her blink.
"I felt him kill her. It was…" she pauses, searching for the right words to describe the terrible feeling. "Dread, pure unadulterated dread. I knew she was going to die, but I— she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe."
Yoko’s expression quickly becomes fearful, and Wednesday pushes the feelings away, slipping back into a disinterested mask.
"It doesn't matter. We need to get rid of your evidence." She pulls back from Yoko and reaches into the pocket of her oversized jacket. A flask is clenched in her hand when she removes it. Wednesday empties the contents onto the scene and Yoko wrinkles her nose against the scent of chemicals. With a smooth and practised flick of the wrist, Wednesday lights a match and sends it arcing downwards. The flames catch quickly, spreading over the two bodies, devouring with an unusual heat.
"Let's go," she snaps as she turns her back on the flames. With one last look back at the scene, Yoko pulls up her hood and follows.
⚞⛤🌑︎⛤🌒︎⛤🌓︎⛤🌔︎⛤🌕︎⛤🌖︎⛤🌗︎⛤🌘︎⛤🌑︎⛤⚟
Wednesday shuts the door behind them, quickly locking all three locks. She casts a quick glance at the dishevelled vampire before moving toward her office.
"You know where everything is,” she states. “Shower, bed, whatever. Just stay quiet." Without bothering to check if Yoko has heard her, Wednesday silently closes the office door between them.
She drops into her chair, elbows resting on the desk while she cradles her head in her hands. Normally, Wednesday would seek help in deciphering her enigma of emotions, but it has grown late and she doesn't want her to be tired come the morning.
While most visions leave her groggy and pained, this one has her feeling like she's been run over by a truck and a half. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.
Terror pierces her heart again. Her bones fill with that very same ice, blood crystallising in her veins. Her chest tightens, struggling to draw breath. Each lungful is a challenge, buried alive in open air, except instead of her numbskull brother-in-crime shovelling dirt, it’s concrete. Cold, thick concrete slowly pouring over her, until her ribs begin to crackle and creak, her throat filling, aggregate in her lungs, a cast enveloping her body so heavy she can't move, she can't breathe, she can't do anything but—
"Wends?" a small, tired voice calls out from the door.
Wednesday takes a deep breath, attempting to reclaim her composure. She rises to her feet and turns around.
"Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I was trying to be quiet. I'll endeavour to-" A hand cups her cheek, thumb wiping at the wetness under her eyes that she hadn't even noticed come into being, and Wednesday falls silent.
"What's wrong, babe?"
Wednesday doesn't let their eyes meet. She chooses to swiftly refocus the topic, shying away from self-reflection.
"You know I despise that abhorrent term, Enid." Her eyes settle on her girlfriend’s lips, taking in every detail. Anything to avoid her eyes. Her eyes always bring a curse of weakness with them.
Enid lets out a soft chuckle. A sly smile graces her lips and Wednesday's heart flutters. She loves that smile. It would usually precipitate a sudden and consensual arrhythmia.
"You love my abhorrent terms." Enid’s hands move downwards, nails drawing lines from her cheek that send shivers through Wednesday until they culminate at the small of her back. "But stop redirecting. I can tell something's wrong." Her mouth creases into a frown.
Wednesday stubbornly keeps her eyes fixed on those lips, preparing to retort back with… something, anything . And it'd be good, truly unholy. If only it would come to mind.
One of Enid's treacherous, ensnaring hands snakes back up to her chin, lifting it up with a gentle pressure. "Hey, ma tempête , look at me."
There isn’t much French that Enid knows, but the little that she does always has Wednesday’s heart making a break for it through her ribs. She allows her eyes to flick up and sink into the vast blue ocean of Enid's, softening in her arms, heart quickening with longing.
"There was a vision. It was… different. The experience hit me harder than normal." Wednesday doesn't want her partner to worry, but could never bring herself to lie to her either. The vision and its accompanying emotional onslaught have left her feeling tense and unsure, both sensations she deplores.
“What do you need, agápi mou ?” Enid asks her softly. Wednesday blinks, and upon opening her eyes they flicker down to Enid's lips once more, no longer in avoidance but with a craving.
“Distraction,” she says, hushed, low, suffused with a deep need.
Enid tracks the change immediately and smiles coyly. "That's certainly something I can help with.” Her hands fall to Wednesday's hips, hooking her fingers under the waistband and pulling her close. She closes in, lips halting centimetres above lips. Wednesday leans forward to claim the kiss but Enid pulls back, smirking.
"Stop," Wednesday whispers, chasing the distance, but Enid evades her again. Her breaths are heavy now and she conjures a glare for her impetuous girlfriend. "Stop," she repeats in an attempt to be firm, but it comes out as a hopeless exhalation of breath.
It was childish, and charming. Horrendously, abhorrently charming. Enid shifts closer, nose brushing in a vicious tease, before escaping Wednesday’s efforts one final time. "Make me."
Wednesday grabs fistfuls of Enid's pyjamas and growls lowly, pulling Enid in. Their lips meet, passionate and hungry, deliciously familiar. Releasing the fabric, Wednesday begins to desperately unbutton Enid's clothes. The shirt comes off, thrown to one side. Her hands move further, urgent, slipping underneath elastic-
A cough and a knock at the office door cause them to spring apart, Enid yelping in shock. In the doorway stands Yoko, freshly showered. Her eyes shift awkwardly around the room, pointedly avoiding the two women in the centre.
"I, uh, heard talking so… yeah." Wednesday sends a glare her way, ignoring the flush threatening to betray her embarrassment. Out of the corner of her eye she watches Enid pick up her discarded shirt, quickly covering herself with her back to the door.
Wednesday sighs. “Enid, Yoko is here.”
Enid throws her a pointed look. She turns to Yoko and offers a smile. “Hey… Wow, this totally isn’t awkward at all, is it?”
The attempt at nonchalance earns Enid the glint of fangs, a signature smirk. “Well, compared to when you walked in on me and Divina back at Nevermore — twice, babe — I think this takes the cake.” She snorts and Enid relaxes into laughter with her.
Wednesday stands motionless beside her desk as the other two women devolve into hysterics. She waits for them to finish, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with Yoko witnessing her affections for Enid.
Enid waves Yoko over, pulling her into a hug as they finally finish laughing.
“I’ve missed you! When did you get back?” she questions, arms wrapped around the vampire tightly.
“Today actually. Vina’s in Paris for another week, she’s got one more show and then she’s going to see family.” Yoko pulls back and grins, fangs pressing against lips. Some of the tension has loosened from her shoulders in the presence of her closest friend. “I’ve got some client appointments this week that I couldn’t push back so I had to come straight from Tokyo.”
Enid takes a moment to note Wednesday’s still-flushed face, basking in the uncommon timidity.
“Not to sound rude or anything — I have really missed you — but…” Enid pulls a face. “It’s like, one in the morning. What are you— What are you doing here?”
Yoko looks at Wednesday and grimaces.
“I, well… How about I tell you tomorrow?” She turns back to Enid with a tired, pleading look. Enid opens her mouth to respond but Yoko barrels onwards, decidedly closing out the conversation. “And anyway, you should head to bed. Don’t let me stop you from… anything in particular. We’ll catch up tomorrow!” And she slips away, imparting a quick, unbearable wink to Wednesday and closing the door with a click.
There is a pause. Enid turns to Wednesday, confusion written all over her face. “Uh… What was that?”
Wednesday’s eyes shift between the door and her girlfriend, heart stammering in her chest. “I believe that she implied we should go and have sex.”
Her beautiful woman covers her mouth, trying to stifle the giggle rising her throat. A blonde curl slips out from behind her ear and Wednesday’s eyes are drawn, worshipful. “I know that! I meant her being here… but that made you super uncomfortable, didn’t it?” she states, amused.
Wednesday gives her a small nod. There was no use denying it. “Yes.”
Enid bites her lip, gazing at her raven-haired companion through hooded eyes. “Does that mean you don’t want to continue?”
Heat rushes back to Wednesday’s face and her heart resumes pounding at its cage. “I didn’t say that,” she replies, prompting an impertinent grin. A grin that causes Wednesday’s own lips to twitch into a ghostly smirk. Taking a step forward, her fingers loop back into Enid’s waistband, pulling her close.
Enid’s hands find the small of her back — a treasured home, embraced eagerly — holding her in place as she plants kisses along her jaw. Wednesday draws her own upwards, along those muscular arms, cresting firm shoulders to brush her neck. They weave into hair, clasping tight as Enid’s grazing teeth prompt a moan.
At the sound, Enid growls deeply. She cups Wednesday’s thighs to lift her from the floor and shoves her roughly against the wall, eliciting a gasp.
Chest heaving, Wednesday murmurs in her ear. “Bedroom… now.”A grin brushes against her neck. Enid wraps one arm behind Wednesday’s back and carries her to their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.
⚞⛤🌑︎⛤🌒︎⛤🌓︎⛤🌔︎⛤🌕︎⛤🌖︎⛤🌗︎⛤🌘︎⛤🌑︎⛤⚟
They lie intertwined on the bed, Wednesday’s head resting on Enid’s chest. The sheets rest on the ground, discarded in the heat of their passion. Enid strokes a hand through her partner's hair, enjoying the purring it draws from the woman.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” she asks softly, earning a small sigh.
Wednesday shifts, tilts her head up to meet Enid’s eyes and holds her gaze for several long moments. She eventually looks away, shifting into a more comfortable position to speak.
“Yoko called me to ask for help. I found her in an alley, covered in blood. There were two bodies.” She pauses, listening to the comforting sound of Enid’s heartbeat. “I had a vision… It wasn’t like anything I’ve had before. It was…”
The moment stretches.
Enid waits, knowing that her partner needs time to process her feelings. Several minutes pass before she speaks up again. “I wasn’t just watching her. I was her. Her fear was-” Wednesday shivers and, instinctive, Enid clutches her tighter. “It was consuming. I’ve never felt anything like it before, it was so visceral. It felt like I was dying, Enid.”
Another shudder runs through Wednesday and Enid feels dampness bloom on her chest. Her concern deepens. She’s seen Wednesday cry six times in the eight years they’ve been together. Twice it had happened during or after arguments they’d had, and the other four were all caused by overwhelming and overstimulating situations.
Enid brings a hand to Wednesday’s chin, encouraging her to look up again. “You’re okay, my love. I have you, and you’re safe.” She keeps her voice soft and low, murmuring assurances.
Wednesday, arms wrapped around Enid’s waist, tightens her grip as tears fall. Calm in the face of emotion, Enid resumes stroking her hair and plants a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve got you, fengári mou , let it out. You’re safe.”
Enid maintains her gentle touch until the crying woman falls asleep, relaxing into her arms. She’ll have to talk to Yoko in the morning about what happened, but for now, she’s content knowing that Wednesday is safe in her arms. It’s a long time that Enid stays awake, hand running through Wednesday’s hair, sky lightening through a crack in the curtains. She knows that Wednesday struggles with emotions and can be easily overwhelmed by them. And she wishes that she knew how best to support her love through that.
She’s afraid of doing too little, and doing too much. She only knows that surely it’s her job to do something.
Enid lets out a sigh, taking some comfort in the feeling of Wednesday wrapped around her. She lays a kiss on her sweetheart’s crown, whispering softly, “I love you, Wednesday,” before letting sleep take over.