𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝟐
((M!Wednesday))
Lilith and the Addams family try to rescue Uncle Fester from his gold-digging wife, who also happens to be a serial killer whose specialty is killing rich men to collect their inhe...
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˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
𝕀ℕ the dim light of their room, Lilith and Wednesday prepared for bed. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the gothic ambiance of their sanctuary. Lilith, dressed in a long, flowing black nightgown, stood by the mirror, brushing her hair with slow, deliberate strokes. The brush was an antique, silver with intricate designs, a perfect match for the room's eerie elegance.
Wednesday, already in his dark pyjama pants and a loose shirt, approached Lilith from behind, his eyes filled with a rare softness reserved only for her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched her reflection.
"You look enchanting, ma reine," he whispered, his voice a low murmur in her ear. Lilith smiled, setting the brush down and turning in his embrace to face him.
"As do you, mon corbeau," she replied, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. They stood there for a moment, lost in each other's eyes, before Wednesday leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss. Breaking the kiss, Wednesday led her to the bed. They slipped under the dark, silken sheets, the bed a haven of comfort and intimacy. Lilith nestled close to Wednesday, her head resting on his chest as his arms enveloped her. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back.
"I love you, ma beau sorcière," (my beautiful witch) he murmured into her hair.
"And I love you, mon corbeau," (my crow) she replied, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet of the night.
They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the outside world fading away as they found solace in their shared love and the comforting rhythm of their hearts beating in unison.
🥀
"Death! Death to the enemies of the people of the Republic," Wednesday exclaimed as he closed the scroll, his voice echoing with dark enthusiasm. Pugsley, holding the rope with a mischievous grin, released it, sending the guillotine's blade crashing down and slicing a watermelon clean in half. "Hurrah! Justice is served! Bring forward the evil one," Wednesday commanded, moving the mutilated watermelon aside. Pugsley stepped forward, holding the baby, who was dressed in a frilly little gown. The baby, unfazed, gurgled as Wednesday prepared the guillotine for its next victim.
"You have betrayed the people of France. You are evil incarnate. How do you plead?" Wednesday asked, his tone solemn and stern.
Pugsley, using a high-pitched voice, replied, "Guilty."
"Guilty by her own admission. The sentence is death. Executioner, place her on the block," Wednesday declared with a smirk. Pugsley nodded, placing the baby on the block and positioning his head through the hole.
