Chapter Text
Wednesday was more than used to people calling her names. Peculiar. Eccentric. Odd.
In fact, Wednesday would agree with every last one of them. She wore the names like a badge of honour in a world that strangely prized cookie-cutter ideals of normality over anything or anyone that differed.
Wednesday adored the many facets of her that others struggled to comprehend.
But what she found most striking was that so rarely were those same names applied to Enid. Enid who she had just walked in on, finding her placing a miniature snood on their ichneumon’s head.
Enid was really just as odd as she was.
“Darling, care to share why you are dressing up our mythological dragon slayer with pastel green knitwear?”
Her head snapped around, grinning at Wednesday as she pulled it taught. Part of Dante’s mane was pressed down by it but sprung up where the snood ended at all different angles. He looked awfully like one of those greyhounds in the ‘Kermie’ memes.
“He looks so adorable, right?” Enid stood looking down at her work like a child grinning at a five-legged stick figure parents pretended to view like Van Gogh’s. Unfortunately, she possessed none of the acting ability most deluded adults did.
Wednesday sighed, taking him in. Reducing such a creature to the hell of knitwear seemed awfully demeaning, blasphemy almost. “His eyes are bulging.”
They were, Dante sat there stock still, eyes bulging and black, almost as big as saucers. He had a look of shock that Wednesday wasn’t sure if it was caused by the snood or onset of constipation from his recent diet change.
“I am not certain he feels comfortable in it.”
“Really?” Enid bounced slightly. “It’s getting really cold out at night, and we need to keep him warm.”
“It is almost like they gave him thick fur for a reason,” Wednesday replied, voice monotone.
“But he matches us. Do you think we should start him one of those pet Instagrams?”
Rubbing her temple, she shook away the warning stress headache. “Dante cannot be exposed to the world like that. We have to dye him brown whenever we take him to town with a potion, we cannot ask for potions to be brewed simply for a photo shoot. The older her gets the faster he seems to grow. Convincing people he was the offspring of a dog and a horny mongoose may have pleased the masses lacking a basic understanding of biology to begin with, but now he’s almost as large as you.”
As if to prove a point Dante sat up slightly, still appearing as a complete buffoon with the tight snood over his head.
Groaning, Enid dropped her chin. Her eyes glowed gold slightly as if her wolf was debating challenging her mate, but Enid relaxed with a huff. “Fine. But he likes his snood.”
“He looks like the people in House of Wax who were cast alive in wax, then all that could be seen were feint movements of their lips like a redundant plea for help.”
“Fine. No snood.”
Wednesday bristled but allowed Enid the snood so long as it was cold
It gets more ridiculous from there- because of course, it does. This is Enid.
It’s a week later that Wednesday returns, almost dropping the stack of books that was balanced in her palms when she sees him.
Dante. Stood in the centre of his room. Enid had sneakily knitted him a sweater. It was a green sweater with a black D on the front, making him look like a fraternity pledge.
“Dante where is your mother?”
The ichneumon looked like he wasn’t sure which mother he was more worried by, though his eyes drifted to the door.
Seething, Wednesday awaited her return. She pulled out a chair and waited on it with folded arms and a jaw as tense as steel.
“What in the heavens is this?” Wednesday said as soon as she walked in, startling her mate.
“What is what?”
“This despicable act! You have dressed him. He is a wild creature, not meant to be confined by the itchy hell of knitwear.”
“He likes it!”
Wednesday looked at Dante who slowly wagged his tail. He did like it, but Wednesday would not stand for this. She could feel through their bond that the jumper brought him comfort likely from his time hibernating but he looked rediculous.
“He is traumatised by the solitary woollen confinement.”
“It’s breathable and he was getting cold.”
She rose a brow at her mate who folded her arms.
“Don’t do that,” Wednesday chided.
“What?”
“The alpha glare you seem to put on when you wish to get your way.”
“I’m not doing a glare.”
“You are. You get so tense your flesh greys like a corpse. Breathe, perhaps.”
Enid however, didn’t back down. She breathed heavily, standing her ground.
Though they occasionally had mild disagreements this was certainly new. The broad audacity of her mate challenging her. It was a disgrace, an alpha being holier art thou, betraying and…
Oddly attractive.
Wednesday decided right then some part of her liked when Enid proposed a challenge.
“Take it off him.”
“Why?”
“Enid, I swear to the flames of hell if you-”
“If. I. What?” Enid rose a brow, eyes glowing in a vibrant ripple of gold.
With a sigh, Wednesday stood. “Dante go find your aunt Yoko.”
Dante staggered out quickly before the jumper was stolen from him. Wednesday shot Yoko a text asking her to remove it immediately.
“If,” Wednesday started. “You dress him up like a build-a-bear I will take away your knitting bag.”
“Then I’ll buy more wool.”
She worked her jaw, nostrils flaring. “Why are you most unruly today?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Unruly. Far from amicable.”
“Maybe I think I should get a say for once.”
“For once?” Wednesday snapped. “If you presented an opinion or choice of reason I would consider it. Dressing up our son like that is far from reason.”
Enid pushed forward, walking Wednesday back until her spine hit the cold of the wall. The wolf leaned over her, breathing heavily. “He likes it. I asked him if he would like one and he wanted to try. As soon as I put it on him he was so happy.”
It was disarming in a way she couldn’t quite comprehend. Wednesday understood romance through the eyes of her parents. It stemmed from passion, challenge, duels, and fiery emotion.
Wednesday rarely understood that fiery emotion, however on rare occasions it would appear out of thin air. Three times in her life so far.
This time being one of them.
She reached for Enid’s collar, tugging her down until their lips met. They landed together with such force teeth clashed, Wednesday’s lip bleeding as Enid hummed at the metallic tinge to it.
Enid grasped Wednesday’s hip, thumb brushing along the bare skin of it under her jumper as she pushed her other hand into Wednesday’s hair. The hand in her hair completely ruined Wednesday's plaits though she couldn’t find it in her to care. Instead, she tugged the wolf closer with a sigh.
Her mate must have gotten a little too swayed by emotion because the next thing Wednesday noted was the brush of extended wolf fangs against her neck. “Calm down,” she muttered in her ear, soothing Enid with a kiss on her cheek.
“I’m sorry. That’s never-”
Wednesday ignored her, tugging her lips back as soon as they receded. At times being close like this with Enid was needed. Though it was most rare it happened. Wednesday wasn’t sure if it was the wolf instincts from the bond or her general love of Enid when she got passionate about something, either way, she refused to ease up as she captured her lips again and let her tongue meet Enid’s.
“Willa-”
She ignored her again, working kisses lower down her mate’s neck where she smelled most of her endearingly woody scent.
“God-”
Wednesday smiled at that, sucking a mark into her neck for the first time. It was a win in her book, marking her alpha mate after a debate. It was a hickey on her neck that held with it the prize of winning. Enid was her alpha but truly Wednesday held the most power.
“Did you just-”
Wednesday pulled away, using her thumb to wipe the tinted lip gloss away from the corner of Enid’s mouth. “He’s not to wear a jumper. We can look at a heating pad or something that he can lay on and leave at will. A jumper he could overheat in. I am not saying this to be pedantic, but he is a wild animal with a fur coat. Overheating is a risk even with our bond communication.”
Enid nodded, dazed. “He could over heat?”
“Yes, how would you feel in a jumper in your wolf form?”
“Hot after a while,” she agreed, dropping her head. “I’ll take him to town to look for a head pad. He just gets so shaky with the cold.”
”Ichneumons are used to far warmer climates, it is why I was most surprised to see you find one here. We can make some changes, test out what he likes best. However his safety will always come first.”
Eventually, she cleared her throat with a nod and turned her attention back to her homework.
“I’m sorry.”
“He likes it,” Wednesday sighed. “But it is not safe.”
“I understand. Do you know anyone whose name begins with D looking for a jumper?”
The third time Wednesday was truly pissed, and anger trickled into the hollows of her bones.
This time it is not their room, but the bathroom. Bianca alerted her to the issue with exhaustion as she said, “Wednesday, why is your mate washing your oversized dog child in our showers?”
Sure enough, Bianca had been correct in her judgement. Heading to the shared showers Wednesday finally noted the end one running with the curtain open and a huge tail poking out.
She advanced, peering around the corner at the scene unfolding.
Eugene squealed as Dante shook his fur out, both soaking behind Dante who was looking… different.
“You dyed his hair pink and blue?” Wednesday seethed.
Eugene was rigid like a petrified mouse as Wednesday yelled at him to leave before she laced his hives with something.
“I was just-”
“Don’t speak.” Wednesday threw the towel over Dante. “Our room. Now.”
“Are you coming up?”
“After I dry him, yes. So if I was you I would consider your defence for the fire currently lit under your ass.”
Wednesday spent thirty minutes drying him. The pair had given Dante highlights of pink on one side and blue on the other, darts of vivid colour almost like a pastel hedgehog. The most irritating thing was that Dante had worryingly enjoyed his spa treatment and was practically purring as she walked him back, head held high over his fresh look.
“Do not encourage your mother’s childish acts.”
With a sigh that spoke of weeks of exhaustion, Wednesday shut their door and turned to her mate.
“I-”
“You are on your last strike, Enid. He is not a Barbie.”
“I just thought he’s look cute with-”
“Last strike.”
“What happens if I run out of strikes.”
“Nothing. Good.”
“I used pet-safe dye. He liked my colour and I thought we would be cute matching.”
She rose a brow at her mate, one that spoke clearly of her annoyance.
“He really likes them.”
Her brow remained cocked.
“Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
It did in fact happen again.
“Enid why in the world is he bright orange?” she roared as she stared at their Tango orange pet.
“Let me explain-”
Wednesday backed her mate against the wall with fury in her eyes.
“I didn’t do it! He broke into the canteen during gym and bathed in spaghetti sauce. Weems spent the afternoon trying to organise cleaning staff because half of the floors and walls are stained too! I didn’t do it I swear.”
“That is why our room reeks of tomato?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose I will let you off this time.”