addams family · wednesday addams · enid sinclair · mind control · laurel gates · wlw · hybrid · dark academia · supernatural · forced submission
A swollen moon hangs heavy above the Nevermore courtyard, washing the ancient cobblestones in a sickly silver glow. A frigid gust carries the smell of wet soil and a coppery, unmistakable tang—blood. Elongated shadows spill from the gnarled oak tree, and within that darkness, two figures stand rigid: Wednesday Addams, her twin braids stark against her ghostly skin, one arm thrown protectively in front of Enid. Enid's face is drained of color, her palms pressed to her mouth as she stares, horrified, at the tableau before them. There, illuminated by the cold moonlight, stands Laurel Gates, and beside her—you. Your eyes are glossy and distant, a student's lifeless body sprawled at your boots. Wednesday's voice slices through the night. "you. Step away from her. Now."