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alia-turin · 3 years

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It has been a very very long week and I was writing and writing this chapter and it did not seem to end. Honestly I would have made that the final chapter but then it just became endless so I will probably write jus another one sort of as an epilogue.

I hope you enjoy y’all.

PLEASE NOTE: This chapter is 80% NSFW and there is a warming for blindfolding, some lighe dom/sub undertones and ice play. Fic Title: Somewhere in Time: Chapter 8 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s)

Aine pulled the furs to her chin. She wasn’t cold, the fire was burning as hot as possible and the bedroom was small, but she couldn’t sleep. She pressed a finger against her lips, still feeling his touch there. The way her heart was beating when she felt him close to her, when he pressed himself against her...that was what kept her awake. That and how much she misunderstood him prior to the events this morning. She had no idea if she had done something or he did it on purpose, showing her things in his mind that shocked her. If it was her, it was not on purpose and probably she even owed him an apology even if she had no idea what to apologize for, if it was him...why?

She thought about what she saw for the rest of the day and now half of the night her mind was still going through the images. Aine didn’t fully understand all of them, those were his memories, that much she knew, but it all looked like paintings and she had to figure out what exactly the painting meant. She saw the terror, the pain he had inflicted. But there was more. She saw the confused boy, the young man who had lost someone he loved and that loss turning into anger. He was violence, but he never hurt her despite her worst fears.

She rolled to her side.

What if she had allowed him to do what he wanted today...she wanted him, why wouldn’t she? He was handsome, he saved her life, even if it was under the strangest circumstances and now she could even understand him. All she had to do today was just to allow him what he started. She didn’t want to be hurt. Not again. She wanted him, but not for one night, that was pointless.

She rolled to her other side.

Two different men. The same way he said that the red haired woman from his memories was different from her, so was…

Accidentally or on purpose she knew some of his most intimate moments, there was no denying that and despite everything she understood. They were very different from each other, but somehow the same. Having a family, but not really. Not having the worst possible life, but never the life they actually wanted...

She got out of the bed, didn’t even bother to get dressed, just wrapped the furs around herself.

Caranthir was reading a book, or more like looking at a book. He had been starting every sentence multiple times because the words just did not reach his brain. All he could think was how stupid he was today. Aine was too inexperienced and that was too powerful magic for her. He didn’t have an explanation of what exactly went wrong, beside the fact he should have known. No, that wasn’t what bothered him, her stopping him. He was glad she did, he wasn’t sure he could treat her gently, the way he wanted to treat her. Was he even capable of that? Did he even know what it meant to be with someone not just mindlessly chasing his pleasure and some physical relief.

“Can we talk?” he lifted his head, Aine standing by the stairs, her body wrapped with a blanket. She stepped closer to him, stopping on the opposite side of his desk. “I...know why you act the way you act. I’m not sure I understand it, but I saw your memories.”

“You were not supposed to see that.” he interrupted her. He didn’t want to talk with her about how he killed and worse. He knew very well none of his memories were pleasant, they were not pleasant to him, they couldn’t possibly be pleasant to someone else.

“I wasn’t, but I did.” She pulled the blanket closer to her as if she was cold. “I...pushed you because I told you that you cannot be nice to me and then shut down. I was scared.” he didn’t say anything, only watched and listened, who wouldn’t be scared honestly? And he understood very well what she meant about him being warm one moment and then cold the next. If he had social skills he would be one or the other. “I like you.”

He tilted his head. It wasn’t the first time someone said that to him, but in his opinion women liked the idea of him more than they liked him. He was a navigator, a red rider, all of these attractive in everyone’s mind. He knew she didn’t care about any of that. He knew she saw him for exactly who he was, physically and otherwise and that was relief and a big problem at the same time.

“I saw your life. I owe you something in return, probably an explanation.” he didn’t answer, still not sure what to say. He did not feel as if she owed him something, but he was not going to stop her. If anything he owed her an explanation, maybe an apology for being rash and irresponsible, pushing her to do something because he found it fun without thinking of the consequences “There was an elf. Years ago, when I still lived in my father's house. He was nice to me.” she stopped, he wanted and didn’t want to know what nice meant in that sentence. “He thought that by being close to me, he would win favour, but he did not understand that my father saw me as a bit more than a servant. He figured it out.”

“I have little use of you.” he finally said immediately realizing how bad that sounded. “What I meant is that I have no interest in using you.”

“I know. I...saw as much.” there it was. She said it. Took that off her shoulders. “This is why I pushed you away today. Not because of what I saw but because I started feeling for you and you being the way you were well...I don’t want to be one night entertainment.” she looked at him, she couldn’t live all her life in fear of what happened before and the same was true for him.

She let the blanket drop around her feet, leaving her naked in front of him.

Caranthir felt his jaw drop. That he did not expect. He watched her naked shape, the candles and the fire from the room dancing over her skin and hair. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For weeks now, but why couldn’t he move or say something?

“This is embarrassing, I thought…'' She started talking, her arms trying now to cover her nakedness and also reaching down for the furs, but Caranthir moved faster, getting himself in front of her and grabbing her arms before she could do it.

“You don’t need to do that for my benefit.” he moved her arms out of the way, his eyes tracing the shape of her collarbones, her breasts, her hips. If she were to stop him now, at the very least he wanted to memorize that view.

“I want you.” she answered as she stepped on her tip toes and kissed him. He responded, opening his mouth but taking over the kiss, trying to steal the breath from her but he suddenly pulled out.

“What…” she looked at him puzzled.

“Nothing…” he stepped back his eyes on her body again. He didn’t want to cause himself to her. She was too...pure for him. “You need to know something. I’m not gentle, I’m not sure I know how to be...nice.”

“I saw that.” she responded, her eyes not leaving his. He didn’t think she saw any of it, but maybe he had been too focused on stopping her that she had seen more than he expected. “I have seen…” he placed his finger on her lips.

“And you are not like them to me, but I don’t think I know any other way.” he pressed himself against the desk and pulled her closer, her belly rubbing against his growing erection. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands rest on her lower back. “Do you trust me?” he pulled her even closer to himself, frustrated at all the clothes he was wearing. She hesitated for a second but nodded. That was all he needed.

Aine felt his hand slide down to her ass, but he didn’t stop, he leaned forward and grabbed her hips, lifting her up and turning both of them around, letting her sit on the desk. She wanted to kiss him, she needed the closeness. He took a small step back, and then pulled his shirt off, almost as if he was getting changed, there was nothing seductive in his action, just a task he had to do. Aine couldn’t help herself but stare at his body, she knew he was well built, she could see that much even under the clothes, but now seeing the hardness of his chest, the defined lines around his abs...and the tattoos. She had seen the tattoos that started at his neck and those on his fingers and hands, but didn’t think they covered his whole torso, arms and parts of his legs. There were also the scars, less visible on his skin due to the tattoos but they were still there, the same scars as the ones on his face.

She couldn’t control herself and reached for his chest, her finger tracing a few black lines of the unknown pattern on his skin.

“What does it mean?” she asked as her finger continued.

“This one is a spell.” he grabbed her hand and guided her through his skin. “This stops other mages from putting tracking spells on me, like the one I put on you.” he moved her finger just below his chest. “This one protects from certain curses.” he continued pushing her finger down over his abs until he stopped where his belt was. She tried to reach for his belt but he held her hand away.

“Patience.” He didn't say that to her, mostly to himself. He had never taken so much time, if it were someone else he would be half way through now. But he wanted to feel her, every single part of her and wanted her to feel him. He wasn��t worried about her seeing him, she already did and he liked what he saw in her eyes. He might be making that up of course but she accepted him, she didn’t stare at his scars as if he was a freak, when her fingers touched them she didn’t even pull away...she just accepted him and that was a bigger turn on for him than almost anything else.

He pushed her on the desk and turned her so her length was on the length of the desk. He didn’t follow her, just walked around and reached for the drawer on the opposite side.

“What are you…” Aine lifted herself looking at him puzzled.

“Trust me.” he pulled the black fabric from the drawer and walked all the way behind her. “Just relaxed.”

He placed the fabric over her eyes and tired it at the back. He had blindfolded women before, it was his way to deal with them not seeing him, not looking at him. This was different. It wasn’t about her seeing him, they were past that, he just liked seeing her trust him, allowing him…

Aine hoped that was not a mistake and she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow regretting everything, or even worse, alone in the bed with him just gone somewhere, forgetting about her. She couldn’t see anything, but her hearing felt somewhat sharper, probably just an illusion from the senula deprivation. She could hear the wood in the fire burning, even the wind howling outside, but nothing from Caranthir until she felt his hands around her ankles, pulling her so her ass was almost at the edge of the desk and her feet hanging low. Then she felt his hands on her inner thigh spreading her open, redness creeping through her skin realizing he was standing right in front of her with her legs wide spread. What felt even more embarrassing was that she had no idea where his eyes were, for all she knew he could be staring at the bookshelves behind her.

“Caranthir?'' All she needed was a sound from him, just to know exactly where he was, but no response followed. However, she did feel his lips kissing just below her bellybutton, her stomach curling in a ball by the surprised sensation. Second kiss didn’t follow, but that was enough to make the heat between her legs almost intolerable. She tried to push her legs together but he placed his hands on her knees and stopped her. Not a word followed, she couldn’t decide what was more tortuous, not knowing where his eyes were looking, or the absolute silence from him.

Next thing she felt was his hands cupping her breasts, unlike the kiss that was not soft and gentle, that felt more like what she expected from him, rough, but still pleasant. He moved one hand away, just to replace it with his mouth on her nipple, his tongue licking it as her body arched looking for some sort of friction in the empty air. She moaned, enjoying the sensation, but also needing more, the cool air she can feel between her legs just reminding her about the emptiness there.

He moved his other hand away, his mouth replacing it as well, his tongue flicking at teasing, but not giving her any release just building even more need, until he moved away again, Aine moaning this time in frustration, as even his teasing was better than nothing at all. She felt something familiar, a tingling on her skin - magic and that was not coming from here.

“Caranthir, what…” she couldn’t finish. He placed his finger on her lips, again not even a sound from him. He placed a soft kiss just below her jawbone, another one further down, so tender, and gentle, unlike the next one, where he kissed but then sank his teeth in the middle of her neck and the next one over her collarbones where he bit the sensitive skin again. Next thing she felt was something cold against her neck, just where he was kissing, it felt like ice or snow. She could feel the wet trail it left as he moved it down, to where his teeth had sunk a moment ago, leaving her skin cold and burning at the same time. Aine moaned and this time she could hear him smirk, she could almost imagine the satisfaction on his face.

Caranthir watched her body react to the ice in his hand. He placed the cold cube above her breasts, sliding it slowly to her cleavage and further down. He moved the ice away, casting more of the spell to compensate for what had been lost by the warmth of her skin, but used his tongue to lick the wet trail the ice had left. She moaned, her body arching toward him desperately looking for a contact and he was doing his best not to allow her any contact but what he was giving her now.

He pulled away just for a second but then moved back to her right nipple taking it in his mouth and sucking as he slid the ice down her cleavage again, but continued down slowly leaving the ice on top of her belly button to melt.

“Caranthir…” this time it wasn’t a question it was a moan and he could feel it straight between his legs. He wanted to hear that again and again, but when he was in her. He stopped for a second, no, he was determined to take his time, this was different.

He stepped back watching her chest rise and fall, breathing heavily from, the ice on her belly almost melted, cold water glistering over her skin. His gaze stopped between her legs, he could see the wetness, his tongue running over his own lips, not wanting to take any longer. This game was almost as tortuous to him as it probably was to her. He needed to feel her, the same way he had felt her skin against his when he was teaching her, but less innocent, more primal.

Aine’s body was hot and cold at the same time, she could feel the freezing water running down her belly. Suddenly she felt his finger between her legs, the coldness of his skin surprised her and by insitic she tried to pull her legs together but he stopped her with his other hand. He didn’t push his finger in her, which was frustrating, just ran it around her entrance, his touch almost gentle, pleasant, but was not helping her in any way, on purpose stopping just before he could provide any sort of actual release.

That ended as well, more silence followed, seconds but the anticipation made it feels like minutes. She thought she could hear clothes, maybe leather, but the sound was so faint that she could not decide if at that point her mind was playing tricks on her, maybe it was her wanting to hear that and then feel him on top of her, the warmth of his skin pressed against hers. Again there were the goosebumps on her skin from magic, her brain just going in complete overload, what now? She felt Caranthir hands on her hips, slowly sliding up to her waist, smearing the now warm water under his touch, until his hands reached to her ribs and he slid his grip under her, pulling her into sitting position. Next thing she knew he dragged her even further to the edge of his desk, she was expecting to step on the ground any moment, but that never happened, there was nothing under her feet, just that tingling magic sensation, the feeling of falling and a low surprised scream escaped her mouth.

Suddenly she was sitting on something again, however it felt different. It wasn’t the hard, uncomfortable desk, her knees felt something soft, but what she was different, warm, she lost her balance and leaned forward, by instinct her hands reached forward to soften the fall but all she felt under her palms was hot skin and hard muscle.

Caranthir watched her confusion, as he was lying on the bed, she was sitting on top of him, her legs on either side of his. He removed the fabric from her eyes, unable to hold his own need to look at her. Aine measured the room in surprise, he could see confusion at first but it was quickly replaced with recognition, it was his bedroom, or hers as she had been sleeping there since he rescued her. He was lying on the soft furs covering the bed, the room was dark, but the moonlight reflection on the snow provided more than enough light for him to see her as clear as he did downstairs with all the candles and fires lit. He reached for her face, caressing the perfect skin in the exact same spot where his was damaged. His finger hooked a long strand of hair that was falling over her chest and moved it way, he needed to look at her, enjoy every inch of her.

Her small hands were on his abs, but one slowly moved down, reaching to his hardness and wrapping her thin fingers around him. He didn’t want to make a sound, but a low grunt escaped his throat as he felt her skin around his length. She moved her hand slowly, tortuous, but he did not care, at least not yet. Despite the pleasure her hand was providing, he just couldn’t get enough of her touch, her perfect shape on top of him, her eyes looking in his with the same lust he was feeling. He wanted to do hundreds of things right now and nothing at the same time. Wanted to be in her, on top of her, have her on her knees between his legs, taste her..the list went on and on. At the same time that was perfect as well. He had never experienced that before, all his sex encounters have been about satisfying a need, rather than...that whatever the right word for that was. It had been about chasing his own pleasure, some release and there was that. But now he just wanted to look at her, enjoy the way her eyes were pinned on him, accepting him. Her small hand was still stoking him slowly, but he could feel himself moving him closer to an edge.

Caranthir wrapped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, her knees still touching the soft furs under them. Her hand let go of him and reached back on his abs trying to find balance even if his arms were supporting her. He positioned her slowly on top of his length, his eyes not leaving hers as he let her slide down slowly. He was supporting her, controlling the pace she moved down on him. He could feel the heat between her legs, then the wetness and eventually her tightness around him. She moaned as his tip pushed in, biting her lower lip. He gave her a moment to get used to him, but then continued to help her slide down on him, inch by inch, as slowly as he could until he was all the way in and stopped. She tried to move up, but he dug his fingers in her thighs keeping her in place.

He needed a moment, he pulled himself into a half sitting position, his right hand on the bed to support him, but his left hand still on her hip. He leaned forward and kissed her as he moved his hand under her and urged her to move, slowly, it was tortuous for him, but he knew it was the same for her. They both needed more than that. She started moving on his length, her arms now using his shoulders for support, his hips moving to meet her. He watched her as she found the best angle, the moans from her mouth low but so intoxicating for his mind. He slid his hand away, moving it slowly across her leg until his thumb was positioned on her clit, gently drawing a circle but that was enough to distract her from the pace she had picked.

“Don’t stop or I will as well.” he whispered in her ear, realizing that was the first thing he had said all night.

She started moving again, her eyes pleading with him and he just smiled, his thumb resuming the lazy circles it was drawing.

“Good girl.” he whispered in her ear again and then bit it gently, moving his lips down her neck, placing soft kisses as his finger increased the pressure and speed. Her pace became more rigid and he moved his hand away, back to her hip, but with a smooth move he rolled her over, this time she was lying on the furs and he was on top of her.

Aine quickly wrapped her legs around him urging him to push in her but he didn’t move. Yet again her pleasure and everything associated was at his mercy. It was exciting, but what made the thrill stronger was that just a week ago she would never imagine herself doing that with him. Somehow seeing him for who he truly was did something for her, enough to know he wouldn’t hurt her, and enough to find attraction toward him. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought about allowing him to cover her eyes, even if it was for a second and they were completely dressed. Right now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Caranthir placed his hand on her throat, his thumb and index finger holding her jaw and forcing her to look at him, not that she had any other intention. She wanted to look at his face, even though he had been good about keeping his emotions under control, there were signs of pleasure, his pupils almost completely hiding the blue of his eyes, his jaw clenching when he was suppressing a groan.

Despite his best effort Caranthir could not hold any longer, or go slow. He moved his hips slowly but then his whole body just refused to listen and he found himself in a harsh pace, Aine’s body arching below him in pleasure with every thrust he did. The grip around her throat increased in strength, he could feel against his palm as she swallowed, the bones raising against him, the way her skin vibrated as she moaned. Her eyes fixed on him, barely focused, but she was looking at him. He wanted to know what she was feeling, what she was thinking, seeing him on top of her. He could. Without giving it a second thought he pressed his forehead against her and cast the spell, something that should be forbidden, but he wasn’t thinking. He immediately felt what she was feeling, he could feel the pressure against his throat even nothing was holding him, but the amount of pleasure she was feeling, he was feeling it now too, combined with his own, pushing him so close to the edge that he could not control anything on his body anymore, his speed, the way he was holding her…

Aine smiled as she felt his forehead press against her and then almost screamed from what followed. Everything she was feeling until now, suddenly became more intensified and different. It felt so strange, she knew physically nothing changed, his moves became less controlled, harsher, but her mind was experiencing that on a completely different level. She dug her nails in his back and somehow sensed it on her own skin, even if there was nothing there. One of his hands was still on her throat, the other between her legs, how could she feel nails digging in her own back? Her orgasm came almost immediately, her body arching under him, feeling the warmth of skin, she had no idea if she screamed or made any other sound, her whole mind was trying to process something that she had never felt before.

Moments passed, neither of them moved his chest pressing against hers as both of them were trying to catch their breaths. She was physically tired, but her mind was also exhausted in a way she had not felt before, even with all the work she had been doing as he was teaching her how to use magic.

Eventually Caranthir rolled over, he seemed exhausted as well, his moves slow and forced as he pulled the furs under the two of them and used them as a blanket and then pulled her on his chest, his arms wrapped around her body.

Aine started tracing lazily the black lines over his skin entwined with scars. Her fingers touched gently the complex patterns and runes, gently brushing around the damaged skin.

Neither of them spoke, she had no idea what to say. Whatever happened tonight...first she had never imagined herself going to someone offering herself the way she did with him, but somehow it felt right, he felt close and...in a twisted way that made sense. She also never imagined herself being blindfolded to someone’s desk, that sounded terrifying and against all logic, he was the last person she should entrust with that, but here they were, she was more than fine and in one piece.

“What was that?” she finally asked.

“Mhm?” was the only response he gave, as he started playing with her hair. “You need to be more specific.”

“After you touched my forehead.” she slid her fingers lower to his abs, more runes and markings covering the skin there.

“A spell.” he answered. A forbidden one or at least one that was frowned upon in certain circumstances. Accessing someone’s mind was dangerous and invasive, the way she did it with him, he allowed that. No one allowed him now. “It allowed me to feel what you were feeling and it allowed you to feel what I was feeling.” It usually was hard to cast it on someone who was unwilling or unaware, but she had completely given up to him. It felt so easy as both of them had completely given themselves to each other, but he had also been selfish. He needed the reassurance that she really wanted him, the way he wanted her.

Caranthir continued playing with her hair, his mind going through everything that happened tonight. Not just the physical part, that was great, but there was more. He had never been so intimate with another person. Never had the need to touch someone or be touched, even if it was just that, holding her, feeling her warmth next to him.

“Are you okay?” she pushed herself up a bit, he had to fight the instinct to pin her back down. She wasn’t going anywhere, she just lifted her head and shoulders a bit to look at him, but even that loss of friction was frustrating. He felt like a child who had just discovered how good chocolate tasted. “Caranthir?”

“Yes.” he pushed her hair away from her shoulder gently, running his finger over the skin where he had left marks. He has not done that before. He had been rough in the past, but never felt the need to leave a mark, it usually happened by accident, spur of the moment situation, but that was different. “Does it hurt?” she shook her head, she probably didn’t even know how red her skin was.

“How did you do the thing with the ice?” she relaxed again on his chest.

He reached for her hand and took it in his, made her open her palm.

“Focus and think about ice.” he could see her concentrating, sensing magic slowly building and an ice ball no bigger than his thumb appeared in her hand. “There you go.”

She rolled the piece of ice in her hand and then placed it on his chest, Caranthir groaned, the little ball slid down his chest to the side of abs and fell on the bed.

“How long did it take you to get all these?” she asked after a moment of silence, her small finger tracing again the tattoos on his body.

“Months.” It felt strange talking about himself. He had asked her questions about her and he knew a lot, but she never asked him questions before and then...well he gave her the crash course of who he was. It was still foreign for him to talk about himself. “I did my first one when I wasn’t even an adult yet.”

“You did it?” she pushed herself up again, looking him in the eyes with surprise. “Even on your neck and back?”

“You can use magic to move objects. It is not that complicated to move a needle and some ink.” he traced her spine with his fingers. He should probably get some protective runes on her to make sure no harm would come, but he also loved looking at her undamaged skin, so much unlike his covered in scars. “My teacher taught me the principle and told me that one day he would help me get my first runes. I couldn’t wait, so I did it myself despite his instructions. He wasn’t happy, but I also did it right from the first time.”

Aine listened to him, it felt good. She already knew a lot, not because she asked, but now it felt better. Having him volunteer that information, for the first time talking with full sentences, not half words with hidden meaning.

“Your teacher...he was the one who raised you, right?” she was careful with her questions, she wanted to hear him talk, but she also didn’t want to push too far and make him close himself again.

“He did. He was like a father to me, not a good one, but he was the only family I had growing up. The only parent, the only friend…” a sad smile appeared on his lips. “I used to worship him, now I feel like he is my biggest enemy.”

Aine didn’t know what to say at that, she wasn’t one to speak about fatherly love and even if she did not consider her family as her enemy she did not want to be near them either, or at least what was left of them. A brother who rarely acknowledged her, a father who used her as a trinket when there was a need for it and ignored her the rest of the time.

“I want you to stay with…” Caranthir finally started what was on his mind but stopped suddenly feeling the energy in the room building. He looked at her but her eyes were as puzzled looking at him for an answer. “Seriously?” Caranthir said more to himself, pushing himself up as he saw the portal opening. There was only one person who could open a portal and knew to find him in this place.

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 7

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Violence, brief mention of attempted rape (minor character)

Tai'chi gently lets go of your hand as the two of you approached the building entrance, students filing out of the rooms, chattering as they made their way to their next class.

As much as you want to feel the warmth of his hand as he held yours, both of you didn't want to risk any more brash acts, having enough of what had happened in less than a day.

You are tired.

One more jerk approaching you with a snide, insulting remark will send you off into a frenzy of kicking everybody's ass. Your father always scolded you for this, lecturing you about the importance of training your self-control, to not let your temper get the best of you.

Come to think of it, if Tai'chi hadn't stopped you earlier, you would've lashed out at David without a second thought, which will then put you in a bad position, making everything far more complicated.

Worst case, they would have expelled you right away.

Self-control, huh. Should've listened to Papa and worked more on it.

You weren't paying much attention to where you were going as you walked through the slightly crowded halls. You let out an "oomph" as you bumped into someone's...arm?

Your apology didn't make its way out of your mouth as a tall, blonde elf, snapped.

"Watch it, human."

The elf gave an irritant side glance as they passed, looking down at you, literally. Like most elven kind, they were slightly taller than the average human. You scented them, subtle, taking in a smell that confused you. The usual sourness is there, but mixed with something sweet? Perhaps the elf was not a bad person after all. Sweet scents from your experience were good.

Kind, even.

"I'm sorry!" You called out, with enough volume, so they could hear you. Your apology was genuine, with a small smile hidden behind your mask. All you got was a 'hmp' in return.

Hey, at least they heard you. You really didn't mean to bump into them, maybe they didn't see you, in regards of your height.

Which wasn't much.

You turned to Tai'chi, and as always, he was watching you, his gaze soft, his face neutral, but you caught a small tug of his lips before it goes back to his previous expression as you went to your class.

Once you stepped inside, you subconsciously looked for vacant seats in the back. Luckily, there were still a few students when you arrived, the pink pixie and the lizard person catching your attention first. You waved as you pass by where they sat. The pixie waved back, seemingly cheerful with your greeting. The lizard person beside her, however, only gave you a curious eye.

You took your seat, Tai'chi following suit and took his beside you, the chair slightly creaking under his weight. You held your breath, releasing it after a moment when the chair didn't break. Tai'chi hummed in amusement.

A moment later, an old, white-haired man entered, followed by a couple of students in your class. He wore a light grey undershirt, a black vest with a red tie, matching black slacks and shoes, along with square-rimmed glasses.

You didn't see him in the office earlier so you have no idea what he's like.

"Good afternoon, students." The teacher began as he wrote on the blackboard. The class responded to his greeting before he continued with his aged voice. "I am Professor Hurton Flemming. I will be the one teaching you your General Mathematics. We will be..."

You listened to Professor Flemming as he briefed the class on what you will be tackling in his subject for your freshmen year.

"Please raise your hand if your name is called. I would like to know the names and faces of my students under my care this year." He took out what looked like a journal and started calling your names.

Turns out, the girl who shoved you this morning was Tiffany Morai. She did sound and act like a Tiffany, like a bitch.

No offense to the other Tiffanies out there.

Lilia Fontaine, the pink pixie. Her name suits her cheerful and bright personality just from her scent when you passed by. She smelled like an assortment of flowers. You weren't good with figuring out their names but you could hint marigolds, which was abundant where you were from.

The lizardperson, Eznet Novak, you found out right after. You couldn't scent them much, just a whiff of some earthy mineral you didn't know.

You thought back on what Tai'chi had told you in regards of your ability.

I should ask him later.

Eznet seemed apprehensive of you, too. Maybe they don't like humans in particular? Or is it because of your mask? People who wore masks are usually deemed suspicious so it seems.

The blue tiefling and the dwarf from earlier weren't present, you noticed. Perhaps they skipped or went somewhere else, another class maybe.

You looked to your seatmate for help when you missed someone's name. Tai'chi felt your eyes on him and he leaned down for you to whisper.

"What's the elf's name again? I spaced out for a second there," you asked.

"Her name's Arlenre Vinela."

Tai'chi whispered back, tilting his head to your ear. You couldn't help but feel a little shiver run down your spine at his rich voice. You hoped he didn't notice it. You almost forgot the name again.

"T-Thanks."

He huffed out a reply as he sat back in his chair. He briefly gauged your reaction, quite proud when he saw that slight tinge of color on your ear.

The two of you raised your hands in attendance, being the last ones called.

Once the professor was done, he left everyone to use the time left for chit-chat and other things as long as we don't cause problems. He is caring and openminded, you wondered what he's like when teaching actual lessons in class.

Ligh chatter filled the room, some in hushed voices, others in a casual one. You glanced to your right at a group of humans halfway across the large room as you sensed their eyes on you. They grimaced when you saw them and went back to gossip amongst each other.

You try blocking out their scents, letting out a tired sigh when you couldn't, you shut your eyes and attempt to get some rest before anything else happens, resting your head on your arm and desk.

What are the chances that a ball of paper would be thrown in your direction right after?

Pretty high.

The orc saw it flying over and caught it in his fist before it hit you. He shot a glare in their direction, huffing when the students pretended to have nothing to do with the paper.

Tai'chi suspected some worded insult inside, so he chose not to uncrumple it, shoving it inside his pocket instead. He'll throw it once he sees a trash bin on the way out.

You weren't aware of what happened and even if you felt the air move, you wouldn't care much. The day's events were catching up to you slowly, you're pretty sure once you step inside your apartment you'd pass out.

For what seemed like half an eternity later, the bell rang for the last time today.

"...Pearl." You two walked out, Tai'chi slowing down his steps for you as he took notice of your drowsy state.

"Hm...?"

"You are tired."

"Mhm yeah...that I am." You replied, yawning behind your mask. Tai'chi chuckled at this, he found you cute everytime.

"Would you allow me to walk you home?" He offered once the two of you got out of the school building.

You perked up, blinking away rapidly.

"W-walk me home?"

"Yes...? But if you're not comfortable with I unders—"

"No! I mean yes!" you spluttered, "I mean— I-I would like that...you walking me home, Tai'chi." Your little outburst drew some attention, but you were pre-occupied to even bother.

Tai'chi breathed out, "Good. That's good. I would like to talk to you about the, uh, courting, if that's okay with you? If you're exhausted we could talk tomorrow." There was no lie on how your eyes looked, you need to rest.

"Nah, I can pay attention for that," you insisted. "I'd like to know what these courting rituals are, today, so I'll know what to expect...and stuff. I seriously have no idea. I never ever, ever had any...suitors? Yeah, suitors."

Huh, now that you think about your past, you didn't find anyone you were attracted to, much to every other girl's convenience and annoyance when you wouldn't react like them when the "campus sweetheart" walks by, squealing and batting their eyelashes, puffing out their chests and raising their hips. They all acted the same way and you found it confusing why they'd do that, alienating you in the process.

"Not even one?" The orc was secretly baffled and relieved to hear that, but he'd never admit it out loud. Maybe.

"Before you? Hell, there are none. I don't think they know I exist, until I get into a fight with them or if they caught word about my reputation, I guess," you shrugged. "You see, uh, most people don't really like the thought of girls who are strong, and psh...capable of anything else other than being submissive, curvaceous and flirty with those skimpy skirts." You say to him, waving your hand in front of your face. You were out of the gate already, so you head right, Tai'chi an arm's length away to your left.

He grunts as he pondered about how those human men are blind and shallow in their choice of interest. Who would not want a strong woman? One capable of handling herself in undesired situations and protecting others?

The answer to that was obvious.

You remained silent for a while, the rush of vehicles and the buzzing of the city surrounded you as you got lost again in your own thoughts. You saw groups of high school students chatting along as they passed.

Tai'chi would glance at you from time to time, paying attention to your features, your tight braid swaying slightly behind you as you walked, and your hands hidden inside your hoodie. You took a left and crossed the street, and then a right after 8 minutes of walking straight, the area you were currently in was quite deserted in the early evening...

A scent.

You stood still, frozen as your nose caught something faint. Something familiarly bad.

"What's wrong?" Taichi asked, his brows furrowing, concerned as he watched you— why did you stop?

"Tai'chi, do you smell that?"

He inhaled the air around him, catching a whiff of something indecent and awful, he frowned, alarmed when he realized what it was.

Lust and fear.

A distant scream slit through the silence and you bolted.

It took a second for Tai'chi to follow, taking large hurried steps as you ran ahead of him towards the origin of the distress.

When you arrive in a dark dingy alley, you pulled out a pair of nunchucks from your bag, the red and black patterns barely visible in the shadows, your knuckle dusters on your left, fingers gripping them tightly. You saw a young girl, her uniform that of a high school student, similar to the ones earlier. She was held down against a wall by a brawny tattooed arm of a man, his hand slowly trailing up her skirt as the other people with him rummaged her school bag.

"P-Please let me go...!" She begged as she squirmed under his grasp.

"There now, little girl, you and I are gonna have so much fun tonight," he breathed at her neck, humming lustfully as he groped her thighs.

You didn't bother making a sound as you lunged, going for the first one as you whip your weapon and hit the back of his head. This startled him, letting go of the girl in the process as he stumbled back, she only sat there, shocked in place.

"What the fu—" You shut him up with a punch to his gut and another one to his jaw. He drops to the ground, unmoving, you hit him too hard, apparently. Not dead, at least.

You got to caught up on your front that you failed to notice the one behind you.

Shit.

Curse yourself for being such a reckless ass when you're lethargic. You braced yourself for whatever was coming, arms raising up to cover your head defensively.

A second passed but nothing happened, nothing hurt. You opened your eyes when you heard a strangled cry and saw a man, held at his neck against the wall by none other than your orc.

W-Wait he's not my orc!

Tai'chi disarms him and buries the knife into the wall just beside the their face, cracking the concrete in the process. He let out a low growl, reigning the urge to simply snap their neck for trying to hurt you. He glared down at them, the man shaking under his hold, terrified.

Your attention was quickly drawn away by a yell of someone heading for you, seeing a glint of another knife, you dodged as he repeatedly tries to stab. You wrapped the chains of your weapon around his wrist when he swiped, twisting it and making the man scream out in pain. You punched him square in the face, a tooth flying off as he spit blood. He falls down to the ground, just like the previous guy.

You attempt to chase the last one that scampered away. The quiet woosh sounded in the air made you hault. A small brick, you saw, flew over you and it hit the guy right on the head.

Anddd he's out. No, he's not dead. I think.

Tai'chi, (who else would've made that shot?) just saved you the trouble of running again. You doubt you could even reach the guy, you'd pass the fuck out within 50 meters.

You exhaled loudly, your hands on your hips as you let your body come down from another rush of adrenaline.

For like, five goddamn times now. You just can't catch a break today for fuck's sake!

While you were cursing every wicked thing out there, a whimper reached your ears, immediately silencing your thoughts.

Ah, right, the girl.

"P-Please don't h-hurt me." She cried out, her scent was heavy in fear, terrified as she stared at the orc who stood beside a man that lay unconscious at his feet. You ran to her, holding her face in your hands as you force her to look at you. The girl was trembling, her body flinching away when you touched her.

"Shh...shh... It's okay, it's alright, you're safe now. Calm down. Take deep breaths for me okay?" you assured. She nods and does what you say, breathing in and out in repeat until her scent changed slightly, though the fear was still there, her trembling turned into light shivers.

"He's a friend. He will not harm you."

You glanced at the orc, your eyes landing on Tai'chi smiled, which he returned with a small nod.

You helped her stand up and put back her things in the bag. Her phone was still in the area, luckily, the guy must've dropped it when he ran away.

Once that was done, the girl hugged you tight, taking you by surprise. You weren't used to this sort of physical contact, at least in a non-violent way.

"Thank you for saving me. H-How can I repay you, miss?"

"Oh no, no, no need to do that. I only did what was right. Just be careful next time when going home alone okay?"

"I insist, p-please let me repay you!" she pressed and you pulled back to look at her.

"No. Really. It's okay, you're okay now."

"But—"

"How about thanking my friend then?" You motioned to Tai'chi who was leaning his weight against the wall, watching you both silently.

"H-Him?"

"Yes, him. His name is Tai'chi and I'm PearI. I want you to thank him."

"But he's—"

"An orc. Is there a problem with that? No. Now listen here, girl, race doesn't fucking matter." You said as you took her hands and squeezed them. "Everything and everyone has a good and a bad side to them, no matter their kind. Do you remember who attacked you? Humans. Our own flesh and blood. Never judge anyone from what they look like, that and thanking him is enough as your payment."

She stared at you with wide eyes, nodding after a moment when she took in your words. She approached the orc, stopping a few feet away and thanked him, shyly peeking up at his face.

"You're welcome," Tai'chi smiled.

——

Part 8 will be out shortly! The day is not over— and I'm scolding myself for the pacing and I'm sorry...

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humminghalo · 5 years

Text

He llo my d ear love ly frien ds ! !

I apolo gize for my lon g abse nce , b ut I am so rr y for n ot be ing ab le to be the re for ever yone at onc e , n ot for my absen ce in and of it sel f .

I was car ing for my FRIE ND wwho was g oing thr ough a toug h ti me .

He is ok a y now tho ugh , he is gr owi ng as a bei ng on th is ear th and he is doin g so well and I am s oo pproud of hi m ! !

I am als o pro ud of all of y ou , my fr iend s . I am pr oud of th ose wh o hol d ou t throu gh ha rd tim es , I am pr oud of tho se who ar e happy and all ow themsel ves to be happ y , I am pro ud of eve ry sing le on e of y ou for be ing aliv e anothe r day . You are all d oin g so we ll . I am so gl a d yo u are arou nd . I wis h ever y sing le one of y ou all the luc k and happin ess in th is wworld . Thin gs ma y not alwa ys go we ll , but reme mber that you hav e a ligh t with in yours elf brigh t eno ugh to lea d you eve n throu gh the dar kest time s . You are so strong .

Go ah ead now , to be d , int o a new da y , or carr y on , wha teve r you are up to ! I know at hea r t that thin gs will be we ll even tuall y .

I lov e yo u , my ffriend s .

,.. ❤️

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minhoinator · 6 years

Text

By My Side, A Hogwarts AU (18/75)

special treat - “Ugh...”

Minho glanced away from The Standard Book of Spells to look at Kibum for a second. He was digging around in Grandma’s latest care package, and Minho turned the page when he sighed again. “Something wrong?”

Kibum pulled out a pumpkin pastie with a frown, and Minho instantly frowned in return. “It’s the last one.”

master list // AO3 // AFF // first year - muggle-born, sorted, first day, homesick, hallowe’en, deck the halls, possibilities, belonging, exceedingly acceptable, return to king’s cross - second year - diagonally, taking flight, ten points, all that glitters, holly jolly, push and pull, shooting stars

@lockandminkey @minhosbowties @sapphicshawol @artfulkey @shinyexo @posygal @bumkeyko @usuallydreamin @taespoon-of-sugar (if anyone else wants to be tagged in this, just let me know!)

* - * - *

“Ugh...”

Kibum pulled out a pumpkin pastie with a frown, and Minho instantly frowned in return. “It’s the last one.”

He leaned back against the wall of the closet, the tiny flames from the candles on the shelves wavering. Another long sigh and he split it in half, holding one part out to Minho. Reluctantly, Minho took it and Kibum licked the cinnamon glaze off his fingers before he started to eat his.

“Okay, so you said you were having problems with the spell today?”

Minho’s shoulders sunk and he flipped back a couple pages in his textbook. “Yeah, with the pronunciation.” He clenched his jaw when he found Alohomora on the page. They learned this last year, so why was he still having problems with it?

“S’okay,” Kibum said around his mouthful of pumpkin pastie. “Latin is hard.” Minho let out a huff of a laugh, and Kibum chuckled as he finished his half of the pastry. “So, Flitwick was explaining more about the history of Alohomora and its uses today. I was taking good notes if you weren’t able to follow it?”

“I’ve been doing better with Charms lately.”

Kibum beamed at him before he brought Minho’s textbook over between them. “Do you remember the wand movements?” Minho nodded and Kibum gestured to his backpack.

After a catastrophic ink spill last year, they both decided to not use quills when they were up in their study closet. Mom had bought him two packs of pens when they went shopping for school supplies, and now, that’s all they used. Kibum clicked the pen several times as he brought Minho’s textbook fully onto his lap. “Uh-low-huh-mor-uh,” he said slowly as he wrote out each syllable, passing the book back to Minho.

Minho squinted at the pronunciation guide. “A...loho...mora.”

“Yeah, you’ve got it! Do it again.”

“A-alohomora. Alohomora!”

“See? You remember it!” Minho stared at the pronunciation guide, hiding his small smile. “Were you able to follow when O’Neely was talking about yetis?”

“Mostly.”

“Hmm...okay.” Kibum turned, shuffling through his textbooks for his notes.

They studied for quite a while until Minho was struggling to keep his eyes open and Kibum was yawning more often than he was speaking. Eventually, they started to pack up their books and straighten up the little study closet. When Kibum scooted forward to grab one of his parchment scraps, Minho glanced over at the box Grandma had sent.

Was that her address written on the wrapping?

While he knew Kibum’s address, Minho still didn’t have it memorized. Plus, the polaroid with it written on the back was back home and hiding under his pillow. Kibum was still leaning forward, arranging his books in his arms, so Minho slipped behind him and grabbed the empty care package. He tucked it away in his backpack before Kibum even noticed.

Soon, they were on their way from the seventh floor to the basement. They parted ways at the corner, their tired goodnight’s echoing down the empty corridors.

Once Minho was in his dorm room, he rummaged around beneath his bed for the notebook he used to write letters to his parents.

“You’re writing a letter now?” Gilbert whispered as he crawled under his covers, and Minho nodded. “But it’s almost ligh -- “

Before he could even finish saying lights out, the lanterns posted around the room dimmed, their flames soaking back into their wicks. Minho felt around his nightstand for his wand, and once he found it, said Lumos before he ducked under his own covers to block the light so the others could sleep. He popped his wand sideways into his mouth, holding it there so he could have both his hands free.

After a couple of clicks of his pen, he started to write.

Dear Grandma,

Hi! It’s just Minho this time. I hope you’re having a nice day when you get this letter. The reason I’m writing is because I was wondering if you could send me your recipe for pumpkin pasties? They’re the best and I love them but Kibum loves them more. We ran out today and he was sad and I was thinking that it would be nice if I could learn how to make them because they make him really happy and some days are hard here at Hogwarts and you might not know about it right away and anyways I think he’d really like them.

If you don’t want to share the recipe that’s okay I understand.

Thanks and I love you!

Minho

P.S. This is a secret so please don’t tell Kibum

He took his wand out of his mouth and tapped it on his chin as he re-read the letter. “Sounds good to me.” Carefully, he tore the page out of the notebook and folded it into thirds. “Nox,” he said before he pulled the covers back, and set the letter and his wand on the nightstand.

“Night,” Gilbert whispered.

“Good night.” Minho curled in and nestled his head in his pillow. He stared at the silvery moonbeam cutting through the darkness until his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke quickly -- well, quicker than usual -- and was to and back from the owlery before breakfast started. His letter was well on its way to Grandma in the talons of Geum-nun. Hopefully, it would reach her by tomorrow.

Each day, when the owls would arrive, Minho would carefully watch for the arrival of his charcoal owl, but day after day after day, she didn’t appear.

Not until five days later.

A thick brown envelope plopped onto his plate of eggs and toast, and Minho thanked Geum-nun before she flew away. He tore into the letter, and skimmed the contents.

Dearest Minho,

You don’t know how happy I was to receive your letter! I am having a good day and your letter made it better still. I hope when Geum-nun returns that your day is also going well.

As for the recipe, of course I am happy to share. It’s sort of a family secret, but I think I can make an exception for you. Just be sure to read the instructions carefully! And if you need any help, don’t be afraid to write me. Or, you could even ask one of the kitchen elves. They’re very good at their job.

Good luck, my love! I’m sure you’ll do well with them.

Love,

Grandma

Minho smiled as he peeked into the envelope, seeing the card with the recipe.

“Is that from your parents?”

He jumped at the sound of Kibum’s voice and shoved the letter and envelope into his pocket. “What?”

Kibum’s brow furrowed as he chuckled. “The letter. Did your parents write to you?”

“Yes, uh...Minseok got first place at the science fair.”

Kibum squinted at him, his eyes darting down to his pocket for a second. “Ready to head to Transfiguration?”

“Yeah.”

Grandma’s letter and recipe seemed to burn a hole in Minho’s pocket during Transfiguration. All he wanted to do was pull it out and read it, but with Kibum right there...

He waited until Kibum disappeared behind the stairwell on his way up to Charms to pull the parchment out. As he skimmed the recipe, the furrow in his brow deepened.

This was going to be harder than he thought. Hopefully, Sookey would help him.

The rest of the day followed his usual routine -- class then lunch then classes again then practice with the team (even though the season was over, Tanner still wanted to keep their skills fresh in their minds) and finally going over today’s lessons with Kibum. Once they said their goodnights and Kibum was well on his way down the Slytherin corridor, Minho ducked down the hallway to the kitchen and let himself inside.

It was always eerie to be in the kitchen alone. Minho didn’t visit the kitchen often, and when he did there was usually a house elf or two to keep him company and point him in the right direction.

Out of all the Houses at Hogwarts, Hufflepuff had the unique right to enter the kitchen whenever they wished. When Rhys explained it last year, he mentioned an agreement between Helga Hufflepuff and the house elves that her students would always be allowed access, unless they disobeyed the house elves instructions. Her reasoning was that cooking was an important skill to have and that they should have the resources to do so. There were conditions, of course. The first was that they were to respect the rules of the house elves and help them if asked, and the second was to always clean up after themselves.

Many a Hufflepuff in Minho’s almost-two years at Hogwarts would go on a midnight snack run. Several would even sit at one of the magic tables and work on their homework. As for himself? He usually came to the kitchen to make hot cocoa after a stressful day.

Minho dug into his pocket, fishing out Grandma’s recipe as he walked over to the butcher block countertops. He heaved himself up onto the counter and smoothed the recipe out on his knee as he read through it again. He mumbled his way through the ingredients, pausing when he came to the instructions.

“Rub...the butter...into the flour mixture?” His forehead scrunched. “What does that even mean?” He skimmed the rest of the instructions for the dough and followed the tiny arrow to the margin where Grandma penned an aside.

Do be sure to chill the dough for at least an hour, dear. Often times, I will let it rest overnight.

“I guess I can just make the dough tonight?”

He set the recipe down on the counter before he walked over to the pantry. After a second of staring at the myriad ingredients, Minho walked back over to where he left the recipe and grabbed it.

“Flour, salt -- “ He grabbed them both off of the shelves, going up on his tiptoes to reach the can of salt. “Butter...” Minho rearranged the flour and salt in his arms as he reached for the tub of butter in the icebox. He set them down on the counter before he made his way to the sink, getting a cup of cold water.

Mom never really baked at home, and when she did, she never let Minho help. Well, one time she did. He had begged her to let him help with Dad’s birthday cake, but in the end, he had ended up accidentally burning the cake to an absolute crisp.

To say he was nervous about this was an understatement.

But, one thing working in his favor was that Kibum didn’t know. So he wasn’t expecting Minho to produce perfect pumpkin pasties by tomorrow. Or ever. He could take his time if he wanted to.

Which, he did.

Sighing, he started searching for a scale, and found one of the older ones that Professor Slughorn would use sometimes in Potions. At least he was somewhat familiar with that. Cradling the scale in one arm, Minho grabbed as many of the weights as he could hold and went back to where he had the ingredients. He placed a large bowl on one end and leveled it out on the other with the weights.

“Three hundred grams,” he said as he started spooning flour into the bowl. He watched the scale carefully, and once it leveled, he added the next set of weights and weighed out the salt. “Cube the butter?” Frowning, Minho looked around for a knife, but he wasn’t sure where the house elves kept them. Eventually, he shrugged and started tearing the butter into the bowl.

Once the block of butter was distributed, he stirred it around in the flour with his finger. “Rub the butter...” He picked up a chunk between his fingers, rubbing it into the flour. “Maybe?” Putting both hands into the bowl, he started rubbing them together, mixing the flour and the butter until it started coming together. He squeezed a bit in his hand and dropped the clump into the bowl.

“I...think that’s ready?”

When adding the water, do it a little bit at a time. You just need enough for the dough to come together. It should stick together but not be sticky.

He took the cup in one hand, stirring the flour mixture with the other as he started to pour the water. It was a slow process, probably slower than it needed to be, but eventually, the dough started -- maybe? -- looking right.

“Cover and chill for at least an hour. Uh...” He looked around for saran wrap, knowing full well that there would not be any at Hogwarts. “What spell did Sookey use?” After about ten minutes of searching, Minho found the spellbook and flipped through it, stopping after a couple of turns.

Use Segetenvis when you need to preserve leftovers until another time.

“What are the wand motions?” He scanned the page, finding none. “Swish and flick it is, then.” He grabbed his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at the ball of dough. “Segetenvis!”

A clear, slightly iridescent bubble shot out of his wand tip and enveloped the dough ball. There was a little whistle -- the last of the air escaping, he thought -- as the bubble sealed itself. He picked it up and carried it to the icebox, feeling somewhat proud of himself.

About five minutes later, he had cleaned up his mess and was on his way to his room. Just in time, too, as the lights dimmed as he was sliding into bed. His dormmates muttered their goodnights, and Minho smiled to himself, already imagining Kibum’s reaction to the pumpkin pasties.

“What are you so happy about?” Kibum asked as Minho sat down next to him after breakfast the next morning. He squinted in disbelief when Minho shrugged. “Does a girl like you or something?”

“What?” Minho’s smile faltered, looking over at Kibum. “What are you talking about?”

Kibum went back to his breakfast. “I don’t know. You’re just acting weird.”

“You always say I’m weird, though.” Minho smiled again when Kibum rolled his eyes to look at him. “I’m just happy.”

“That’s good.”

The bell rang, and they were off to Transfiguration.

The day passed by relatively smoothly, even though Minho felt like he might have failed his Potions quiz. At least it wasn’t the final. He hurried to the kitchen once he and Kibum were done studying for the night.

Once again, he found it empty. Minho smoothed his recipe on the countertop closest to the icebox and got right to work -- rolling out the dough as thin as he could. He had to stand up on his tiptoes to be able to roll it out, and his arms and legs were aching by the time he was satisfied.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he went off around the kitchen in search of a pan to bake the pumpkin pasties on. After quite a bit of shuffling and clanging, he found the pans he was looking for. He tucked them under his arm and hurried back to his counter, grabbing a porcelain bowl and a steak knife on his way.

He set the bowl down on the dough, tracing around the lip with the steak knife to make a practically perfect circle. He lifted the bowl, smiling to himself until he tried to lift the circle and transfer it to the pan.

It stuck.

Like, it was glued to the counter. He peeled it up, but it tore in several places. Crumpling up his failed first attempt, he tried again, only to have it happen. Again and again. Frowning, he pulled the recipe closer to him with dough-caked fingers and read it over again.

“Oh...flour first.”

Minho scraped up the dough as best he could, using the back of the blade for the particularly stuck spots. Once he got the flour, he dusted it over the surface and rolled it out again. He lifted the edge to make sure it didn’t stick and heaved a relieved sigh when it didn’t. He cut and transferred the circles to the pan, smoothing the little holes that appeared when he moved them.

“I guess I can make the filling now.”

It took longer than Minho would have liked to find all the ingredients for the filling, as it was dimly lit and the labels of the spices were hard for him to read. Once he had weighed and mixed them all, he plopped heaping spoonfuls on each circle of dough and folded them over, pressing his fingertip along the edge, like the recipe said.

He proudly carried both pans over to the oven, setting one down to open the door. The oven, Minho remembered Sookey mentioning, was cantankerous and was always preheated because the house elves did not have the patience to try to coax it to heat up every morning. He slid both pans into the oven and closed the door.

Instead of going to sit and wait, Minho stood in front of the oven, watching the pasties back through the yellowed glass of the window. The dough puffed up slightly, hopefully turning a nice golden brown.

As they continued to bake, however, his shoulders sunk. He watched the filling leak out through the seam and the cracks in the dough. It bubbled and pooled around the pasties until he was sure there was none left inside.

Minho grabbed the nearest towel and pulled the pans out of the oven, tossing the failed pasties into the nearest trash bin. He cleaned up his mess within ten minutes and was on his way to his room, Grandma’s recipe crumpled in his fist.

It was several days before he tried again.

This time, he told Kibum he wasn’t feeling well and that he couldn’t study that night. Kibum said he wasn’t feeling well either, and it would be good for them to get some extra rest. When Kibum was out of sight, Minho rushed to the kitchen, catching the house elves as they were cleaning up. Sookey waved to him, and he waved right back before he went over to the “Hufflepuff” table. He leaned against the edge while he waited.

There came a series of snaps and pops behind him, and Minho turned to find that Sookey was the only elf who remained, and she was standing on the table. “What can Sookey do for you, sir?”

She sat on the table beside Minho when he pulled out the recipe, she read it through twice, making comments as she did, and teleported back over to the kitchen. Minho jogged over to meet her as she was bringing all the necessary ingredients over to the counter. He rolled up his sleeves and started mixing the flour once she weighed everything. He followed every word she said, feeling much better about the finished dough once it was safe in the icebox.

“Now, while the dough chills, we’ll start on the filling.”

She showed him how to mix the filling thoroughly, which, he was pleased that he had gotten right the first time. While they waited for the dough to be ready, Sookey explained more about the process. Ah, he saw where he went wrong before. He didn’t seal the pasties properly and that’s why the filling leaked everywhere.

When the dough was ready, it didn’t take long for them to get the pasties in the oven and baking. Sookey had directed him to seal and brush them in what was called an egg wash, and they seemed to be browning up nicely. Once Minho could distinctly smell the pumpkin, Sookey directed him to pull the pans out of the oven and let them cool.

“You can finish these off with the glaze tomorrow, sir, once they’re cool.”

“Thank you so much for your help, Sookey. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She smiled as she bowed slightly. “It’s always a pleasure for Sookey to help you, sir.” With that, she winked out of the kitchen with just a flash of light and a quiet snap.

Minho stood still, waiting for her to reappear after a couple of seconds, as she was known to be forgetful. When she didn’t reappear, he hurried to clean up and grabbed a semi-cooled pastie on his way out. He hummed to himself as he ate it, happy that it tasted almost exactly like Grandma’s did.

Kibum would be so pleased.

The next morning, Minho was very distracted at breakfast, as he was constantly checking to see if Kibum had arrived yet. He hadn’t, not even by the end of breakfast, so he found Aaron when they were on their way to Transfiguration and pulled him aside.

“Where’s Kibum?”

“Oh, that’s what I was forgetting!” Aaron slipped inside the classroom and Minho followed on his heels. “Sorry, he’s sick!”

“Sick?” Oh, right, he had mentioned not feeling well last night.

“It’s nothing serious. Just a cold, I think.” Minho sunk into his seat, hugging his backpack before he set it in Kibum’s usual spot. “He’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.”

In between taking diligent notes to share with Kibum later, Minho kept checking the clock on the side of the room and had his books packed up five minutes early. Once the bell rang, he was out the door and running to the kitchen. The house elves all stopped what they were doing as he ran inside. He stuffed as many pasties into his robe pocket as he could and was out the door as quick as he came and was on his way to the infirmary.

He skidded to a stop inside, startling Madam Pomfrey and Kibum, who was tucked into the third bed on the left.

“Do you need more aereveli leaves, dear?” Pomfrey asked as Minho started walking toward Kibum’s bed.

“No, thank you. My head is feeling much better now.”

Kibum sniffled and wiped his nose with one of Pomfrey’s handkerchiefs as Minho sat down on the side of his bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Heard you were sick.” Minho glanced over his shoulder; Pomfrey was busy tending to one of the other students. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pumpkin pastie. “I made you these last night.”

“You did?” His eyes were wide as Minho pushed it into his hands and reached for another one.

“Yeah. Grandma gave me the recipe.”

“She -- “ Kibum took a small bite of it as Minho placed another two beside him on the bed. “You did a really good job!”

Minho grabbed the last one out of his pocket when Kibum took another bite and set it beside the others. He brushed the flakes of the crust off on his trousers and looked down at the pasties. “Oh no! I forgot the glaze!”

“It’s okay, Choi, don’t worry. These are...they’re perfect, thank you.”

Minho beamed at him, relaxing as Kibum took another bite, only for the bell to ring a second later. “Gotta go! I’ll take good notes for you, okay!”

“Okay!”

* - * - *

“Sit up for me?”

Kibum rubbed his bleary eyes and pushed himself up, holding back the hair on his forehead as Madam Pomfrey checked his temperature.

“Feeling any better?”

“Mm, a little.”

Pomfrey went over to her cabinet of potions and poured one of them into a teaspoon. “Take this and go back to sleep. You should be right as rain in the morning.”

“Okay.”

She dimmed the lantern beside his bed and walked over to check on Charity Mills, who was quarantined for chicken pox. Kibum watched them for a second before he tucked himself back into bed. He slid his hand beneath his pillow, found one of the pasties Minho had brought him earlier and held onto it until he saw that Charity’s lantern was dimmed. Once the door clicked shut behind Madam Pomfrey, Kibum started to eat the pastie, sighing happily at the first bite.

Minho really had done a good job. It was slightly saltier than Kibum remembered, but that could be because of the lack of Grandma’s usual cinnamon glaze. It was just…so sweet – no pun intended – that Minho went out of his way to learn how to make them.

Whatever made Minho want to learn how to bake and whatever possessed Grandma to relinquish one of her family-secret recipes, Kibum might never know.

Whatever it was, he was very grateful.

#Minkey #SHINee au #SHINeefic #SHINee fics #hogwarts!minkey au #mine #my writing #ff: by my side #sorry for how long this chapter took #i've been a touch distracted as of late and it's been hard to focus on writing #lol #okay so how Minho burned his dad's cake is #his mom had just finished making the ganache for the chocolate butter cream and had yet to turn the burner off #Minho who was unaware #took the cakes out of the oven and set one of them on the hot burner #technically it wasn't his fault because he didn't know #but his mom didn't let him back into the kitchen unless it was to set the table or do dishes #which he was more than fine with #this is not a very excited or even eventful chapter #so i'm sorry about the long wait just for Minho baking #but it is a fairly major component of the rest of the story #and sorry if i went into too much detail with the whole baking part of this #i am a pastry chef so it just sorta.....comes out lmao

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