Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was almost Valentine's Day. Wednesday had tried her best to pay attention in class, with no mysteries to figure out, but she could hardly stop glancing at Enid.

And the obvious glee on her face.

The Raven has a plan. 

Wednesday has spent the last month crafting the perfect chocolates for her immediate family: a mix of family recipes, nearby vegetation, and that meek kid she met in the woods in one of her weekly blood hunts. 

Big Brother likes honey chocolates. 

Each cauldron is halfway water. 

Add in one hellebore chopped so finely that the pieces are less than a millimeter, 1 fresh salmon chopping into millimeter pieces, and 1 vatful of honey. Stir in 60-degree Celsius heat for 3 hours (Wednesday had to move to the roof for this).
The outer shell is normal milk chocolate that she also made herself in a separate cauldron.
For Mother's chocolates, the filling is guacamole and uncrushed spider. It will be drowned, ground, and boiled anyway.  
For Lurch, the filling is lake algae.
For Father, it will be chocolate-covered eyes of newts.
For Uncle Fester, it is a dark chocolate-covered dead bulb with poison ivy as the inner foil.
For Pugsley, it will be chocolate-covered stinging nettles.
For her sister and best friend Parker, it will be normal almond chocolates with strawberry filling.
For her friend Joel, it will be normal gluten-free chocolates.
For her other best friend NJ, it will be boxer brief-shaped white chocolates with the filling of a spring roll.
Grimmjow said that he is never having her confectioneries again. 
For Aunt Dementia, it is chocolate poison ivy.
For Butcher, it's a gingerbread chocolate.
For Pubert, let's just say that she had her first taste of arsenic at his age.
And for Enid...
Birthday cake chocolates. Wednesday made them before. Her obsession with bright colors and pastels matches Parker's, after all.
Wednesday would be incompetence if she forgot how to plan a party.
.Okay, she added half a stinging nettle. 
This is her second time at romance. SURELY doing such a blatant saccharine ritual will get her feelings across!
Wednesday would be incompetence if she forgot how to plan a party.
-
"Squawk!"
She opened her eyes. 
It is officially 0500, Tuesday, February 14th, 2023. Her first Valentine's Day at a boarding school. 
"Willaaa," the second love of her life mumbled in the dark.
Thank the undead that Enid is a heavy sleeper.
-
Wednesday spent a whole weekend last December searching for the most underground cavern or room that Nevermore could be hiding. Castles tend to have those.
Luckily, there are a few. Cold and damp. The water has frosted over. She can imagine herself hibernating down here.
Now, setting her bag on the ground, she took out her bone dagger--a birthday gift from her brother, which later she used to kill the Hyde at the beginning of the semester--flipped it into pickaxe position, and dug.
Curare followed her down.
Big Brother had sent over the buzzard Hollow a month ago to be her guardian and messenger. 
Which also means having a metaphorical laser boring into her skull at almost all hours.
He'd acquiesced to fetch the ingredients.
She has to feed him at least one organ every week, on her blood hunts.
She hasn't been his perch for months. 
And now here they are.
She does not have her brother's physical strength, but that does not mean that his Hollow tooth has to lose its luster.
She does not have her brother's physical strength, but the frozen earth gave way for her still. 
Only a couple strokes, and then she'd carved her ice door.
To her icy alcove. 
(When she first found it, it held someone else's treats. Like uncovering a body in the ice in the Arctic. 
(She had buried it in the ground to rot, then took its packaging up to the garbage disposal.)
In it are all her confection trays.
She returned her dagger to its belt.
The packaging is glazed in ice, but just enough so she can carry it.
She opened up her suitcase, then one-by-one carefully set them inside so that nothing cracks, falls out, or overlaps. 
Then she closed up the wall, and further evidence that she was ever here at all--but then is there a werewolf in this school who would be this adventurous?
Then she returned to her room.
She set the bag next to the door. 
Very carefully, very quietly, she took out the many empty chocolate boxes from under her bed. 
She carried them over to the bag. 
She took out the chocolate trays, then all but one packed them into the boxes. 
The last tray and box--Enid's--is set aside for now. Then, everything now repackaged, she returned the chocolate boxes into the bag.
They both counted. 
Then as soon as she let go of the bag, the killer claws of the familiar struck, speeding away for his mission. First to home. 
Wednesday let out a silent sigh.
Love.
Her wolf sleeps soundly still, in a little world all her own that the Raven is unready to set foot in.
-
School let out for the day. 
Enid said that Ajax is busy.
Tanaka swooped in for a save before the mood could worsen.
An invite into the town. 
In the vampire's eyes is a very familiar glimmer. An intriguing emotion welled within Wednesday. 
Wednesday, suddenly her throat sore, began with "What a coincidence, Tanaka. I too have something to give her."
Tanaka smirked. 
It was a relatively fun day in town, although it could have been better.
The two parties split for the night, Enid yapped about anything on her mind but her love life. 
But Enid is not a Siren.
It is both too long and too short before the two were back in their room. Then Wednesday repeated, "I have a present for you."
Her roommate went an "o" then squealed. "Really, roomie?!"
Then she pulled the box from behind her back. Two extremely pale hands hold them dearly, gingerly. "Japan celebrates Valentine's Day too," her emotions overflew, and she doesn't need the cage right now, "The women give chocolates to their pack and..." Why is her throat so dry? Is this because her fling with Joel burned only a few weeks? Her heartstrings are being plucked by every second that passes. "And I, Wednesday Addams, declare you, Enid Sinclair, as an honorary Addams."
The blonde hopped up and down, babbling her thank yous and future plans as besties.
Instead of wringing herself, she again asked Enid to bite her hand. A traditional bonding activity.
Her future mate hesitated, gave a disgusted face, and said No Thanks I'm Not A Wolf.
She might as well have stomped on her heart. 
Maybe Wednesday does need a day in the Iron Maiden once she gets home.