#;; The Temple has Visitors (interactions)

[azrielbrainrot]

Moonlit Shadows - Act I

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance (kinda), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: a bit of angst

Word Count: 12,4k

Rating: 18+ (this part is actually kinda chill)

Notes: Just as a warning (?) reader has white hair and white silvery eyes in this story but those are the only physical descriptions I will make, they're kind of part of her magic. Also when I started writing this I totally intended on it being a one-shot but the story got away from me and I decided to split it up into 3 parts. I really hope you enjoy!

You've been pacing in front of the temple's door ever since the sun set over the mountain, the warm rays slowly being replaced with the brilliant pale moonlight. You keep wringing your hands together and smoothing down any possible wrinkle on your dress, repositioning the diadem perched on your head to make sure it sits perfectly. It's not often you get visitors up in the temple, let alone any your Goddess went out of Her way to warn you about and gave clear instructions to help in any way you could. You can't quite distinguish if the anxiety building inside you is the result of excitement or wariness - possibly a healthy dose of both.

The last time someone climbed these steps had been almost a full decade ago. It was a quite short affair as well since the visitor only needed a book long forgotten in the temple's library. You'd read it multiple times before, and offered it without hesitation, prompting the traveler to thank you and immediately start descending the mountain, going on his way all the while muttering about finally having all the knowledge he needed to achieve his goal. That small interaction served as a reminder of your purpose in this temple, filled you with a sense of accomplishment you usually felt in such situations, but you've been alone in between these walls since then.

After almost four centuries you're more than used to the quiet, to the way your steps echoe in the grand empty space. The loneliness had been a more prominent companion, but even that had come and gone throughout the years. You had no place in the world, nor family or friends waiting for you anymore. All you had left was your duty to the temple. But you're still only fae and the longing for some company catches up to you every once in a while. At times you think you only want the reminder that you're still alive.

There wasn't much to do around the temple either, it magically gave you food and kept itself clean so you didn't even need to bother with that. You could recite every book in the library at this point and you found you weren't the best artist as you tried your hand at painting and sculpting, even music and dancing. The flowers around the temple seemed to grow effortlessly, not even needing you to tend to them either. Even keeping a journal proved inefficient as there was little to write down, the monotony of your life not interesting enough for such a thing. When tasked with guarding the temple, you would never have imagined boredom would end up being your biggest problem.

You still recall the day your hair started turning white and your eyes dulling, losing their color slowly until they turned into the silver, almost white color they were now, mirroring the moonlight. At first your parents thought it could be some disease or even a curse, they were scared for your health and safety beyond measure, but when the Goddess contacted you and sent you the amulet you now wear religiously around your neck, it guided you and your parents to this very temple hidden in the mountains of the Night Court. She then told you Herself what the fates had written for you, presenting you with an oath and sharing her power with you, making you the Keeper of the Moon Temple.

Everything had seemed impossible to believe at first, the time of the Gods had passed millenia ago, it was hard to find someone who could even name any of them anymore, you certainly couldn't at the time. So when you were told what your role in life was going to be you had been completely blindsided, not even knowing what to make of your new occupation, of being trusted with such an important task when you weren't even three decades old.

Truthfully, you expected at least a few people to show up every once in a while, asking for help or guidance. You even prepared yourself for there to be some threats to the temple, but things had been mostly peaceful and quiet, so quiet. You understand why guarding the temple is important, this type of knowledge and power can't ever fall into the wrong hands, the safety of the world depends on it, but sometimes you wonder what your life could have been like if you hadn't been chosen by fate to hold such a heavy burden by yourself.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you feel a presence approaching, used to feeling them pass by unannounced as the temple remains hidden in its protective spell. When it's clear this is the visitor the Goddess had warned you about, as they entered the wards seamlessly, you take a deep calming breath, adjusting the diadem one last time, and open the heavy doors, revealing the temple to the moonlight. As the stairs come into view, you step up to the threshold and clasp your hands together behind your back, waiting to be of help as your Goddess instructed you to.

Distractedly rehearsing your greeting, unused as it was, you almost miss the dark shadows swirling up the milky steps, passing by you and escaping to all corners of the temple before you have time to react. Your head snaps back to follow them, breaking the calming character you were falling into in preparation to fulfill your duty. Some of your power drips down to your fingertips, casting a white glow under your skin, as you study these shadows intently. Not finding any ill intent in them, as strange as they were, some of the tension leaves your body. They simply lay before you, more and more of these wispy shadows gathering together as they swirled around themselves, not paling even a fraction under the bright moonlight or your powers. Strange little things indeed.

You wonder for a moment if this was the visitor the Goddess had mentioned, not knowing what to make of it or how to approach such a situation. She had not specified if the visitor was fae, though you're not so sure how you would be able to help shadows. Before you could embarrass yourself in trying to speak to these creatures, the same presence you felt earlier makes itself known, much closer than before. Looking up at the starry sky, you find strong, dark wings carrying someone directly to the temple, a glimpse of blue shining over their dark form.

This was already the most interesting visitor you've ever had. You'd never had the pleasure of meeting any winged fae before, and, given their reaction to the fae approaching, you were confident the shadows were under their command. Those were definitely even rarer than winged fae - Shadowsingers, you remember them being called.

As they fly down closer to you and the temple, slowly letting the wind guide them, you feel a strange tug on your chest, and then another, this time strong enough that it makes you look down at yourself with furrowed eyebrows. Your confusion only deepens when you notice a bright string connected to your heart, raising your hand to try and touch it. Your fingers pass right through it, as if it wasn't there in the first place, and soon after you try catching it, the string disappears from sight.

You lay a hand down over your chest, feeling your heart beating under your palm. The string was invisible now, but you could still feel it tugging incessantly, as if urging you to look up. You follow its silent command, almost gasping out loud when you find the winged fae a lot closer than you had expected, catching him as he lands with a harsh tud on top of the steps, arms bracing out to maintain his balance as if he isn't quite used to landing yet. The shadows swirling at your feet rush to him, and a bewildered expression takes over his face, likely mirroring your own, as he stares at you, mouth agape.

Wide leathery wings stand behind him, open in a somewhat awkward angle as he stands frozen in place. As the moonlight filters through them you realize they're not quite black as they appeared before, the insides actually have a beautiful crimson hue to them. Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they keep cataloging his entire form, taking note of every detail as if it was crucial information. He was covered from head to toe in black leathers, you recognize it as an armor of sorts. It clung to his every muscle, showcasing them as much as it protected him from harm. You find the same blue light from before twinkling in the midst of all the black, studying it closer to find it came from gems scattered across his armor, you're almost certain they hold some of his magic somehow.

Moving up his neck, you find tan skin shining under the moonlight and black hair curling into his forehead softly, locks messy and a little damp from the flight. The stranger also had striking hazel eyes, and you find yourself struggling to not get lost in them, only bringing yourself to break eye contact when you notice the glittery string once more in the corner of your eye, only this time it's connected to his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat as you follow its path slowly, careful not to lose the thin thread once more, finding it leading back to your own heart. You feel another tug, prompting you to look back up at the male in front of you. A hand falls over your heart at the implication, right where you could feel the phantom string had tied itself. Yet another tug confirming your suspicions.

How could this be?

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azriel wasn't expecting his evening to turn out like this when he was called to Rhys' office. While he knew there was going to be a mission of sorts, he never imagined it would involve a temple no one has ever heard of or a Goddess long forgotten. Even with Amren's knowledge and the old books she found corroborating her words, Azriel was still anticipating coming back to Velaris empty handed. He's flown over these same mountains at least a million times in the five centuries he's been alive, and never once has he noticed a temple or any signs of magic.

The woods under him looked completely untouched as far as he could tell, no one choosing to live so far from the neighboring towns, isolated between the trees and steep mountains. His shadows filtered through the woods in case he missed something from his high position, even if he thought this search was in vain, it didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his best to fulfill his High Lord's order. He felt almost naked without his shadows latching onto his body though, the single companion still perched on his shoulder in order to relay him information not giving him nearly enough coverage to feel at ease when he was so far from home.

Mission and discomfort aside, the wind felt heavenly hitting his skin on this warm summer evening. It had been a while since he was able to fly for this long without dreading his destination as it usually meant he was visiting the Illyrian mountains, the Hewn City or a much more gruesome mission than the one he found himself in at the moment. It also feels good to step away from the full houses he found himself in nowadays. As much as he loved his family, Azriel had always valued his alone time and it was getting harder to find himself completely alone in the midst of missions and the ever growing inner circle.

As he was flying over the edge of the mountain, Azriel was getting ready to make the trip back and throw a very satisfying “I told you so” at his brother's face when his shadows suddenly disappeared right before his eyes. The abruptness of it made him panic for a few seconds, clapping his wings so he was hovering in the same place and was able to study the space ahead of him, trying to feel for any type of ward or shield but coming up empty. He could still feel his shadows, and knew they were alright given how calm the remaining one was as it sat on his shoulder and simply urged him forward, as if confused why he had stopped in the first place.

Azriel trusted his shadows blindly, they had never steered him wrong after all, and so he did as he was told and slowly started moving forward once again. After living for five hundred years surrounded by magic, there isn't much that can surprise the shadowsinger, but he can safely say he's never seen anything like this. He felt his body pass through some sort of gateway, one that went unnoticed by him until now, and as he did his surroundings began changing as if they had only been a mirage before.

In between the trees a path carved in white stone could now be seen, glinting under the moonlight in complete contrast to the rest of the dark woods. As his eyes followed this path, going up stairs of the same stone carved into the side of the mountain, he found a white temple sitting right at the top. It wasn't a huge building by any means, but the white eerie glow it emitted made it impossible to miss had it not been the spell covering it - one that would make the one who kept Velaris safe for centuries pale in comparison - and keeping it hidden from the world and unwanted eyes.

Amren had been right after all, something that happens more often than he would ever care to admit. The Goddess of the Moon still had at least a temple left in this world, leaving it behind when She took to the sky. Not much is known about the old Gods, but Azriel, born and raised in the Night Court, felt himself relax as he looked up at the moon shining above him, not believing this Goddess could be anything but benevolent. She had watched him fly over from Velaris after all, it almost felt like he was guided here.

The entire temple was made of white stone - it appeared to be the same type of stones used for the path and stairs leading up to it, only more polished. There were silver highlights carved into the walls and columns, these glowed with an intensity Azriel had never seen. Most of the roof was a huge skylight, likely so the moon could illuminate Her temple and Her followers could bask in Her brilliant light.

Given the color scheme of the entire building, his shadows were easy enough to spot, which would have been a big problem had he decided on a more covert operation when coming to the temple, he was more than glad he came here in peace. His little companions seemed perfectly content as they swirled around and over themselves right in front of the temple's doors, a few steps from a figure completely clad in white.

Even after finding the temple where he had only seen trees and shrubs before, he couldn't help but feel even more surprised that there was someone inside it. A sudden spark of magic has the shadowsinger moving faster, a gasp catching in his throat when he sees bright, pale light coming from the figure's palms. Even this wasn't enough to send the shadows that would be at the receiving hand of it into alarm, something curious on its own as they were usually as suspicious and careful as their master.

Azriel was already within earshot when the person in front of him decided his shadows posed no threat and the white light disappeared from her hands. At first glance she might have looked like a regular high fae female, but there was a different kind of power flowing through her, as shown by the strange way this light magic manifested itself, something Azriel had never felt before.

Upon flying down closer, his feet almost touching the top of the steps in front of the temple, he realizes she had not been wearing a white hood or veil as he initially thought but her hair was completely white. There was an unnatural element to it as each strand shone under the moonlight, almost rivaling it in its intensity. The floor length dress she wore was of the same color, made of a light, breathable fabric, almost translucent in certain areas, swishing softly in the faint breeze. She had not looked up at him yet, seemingly intrigued as she watched her own chest. Perhaps looking at the pendant she wore around her neck, the magic coming from it could almost be seen in its intensity.

Azriel took this moment to take her in, not knowing what to say since he was the one possibly trespassing. She was absolutely gorgeous, truly mesmerizing in her beauty and demeanor. It was almost impossible to believe she was real, standing right in front of him and not a Goddess walking his dreams. For a moment Azriel wonders if this is truly the Goddess, if She never left the land of the mortals as it was once believed, instead keeping herself safely hidden in these uninhabited mountains, but when she looks up from her necklace, eyes falling on him for the first time, all thoughts evaporate from his mind. White, silvery eyes meet hazel and a sudden rush of inexplicable feelings hit him right in the chest, squeezing his heart tight and taking his breath away. It felt as if the world had broken apart and put itself together, as if everything finally made sense. The only thing he could make sense of was one word, swirling around in his mind and completely taking over every cell on his body. Mate. You were his mate.

In his stupor, Azriel forgets he was still up in the air, wings freezing along with the rest of his body and sending him falling towards the ground. Thankfully, he hadn't been too high up, and was still able to land on his feet, knees only buckling under his weight slightly as he steadied himself. This had to be the most ungraceful landing he's performed since his brothers were training him between giggles and harmless teasing when he first joined the Illyrian camps. If he wasn't so surprised and his brain was able to formulate a single thought, he would be cringing at the fact that you had just witnessed it, his mate had witnessed it.

It takes several moments before he starts catching on to the situation, the ringing in his ears subsiding and the rest of the world re-emerging around you. He hadn't even noticed his shadows had returned to him, ecstatic for their master finally found his equal. Azriel tries to school his features in an attempt to keep at least some dignity, in fear of coming on too strong as well, especially since it seemed you were in the same predicament as him, a curious but stunned expression locked in your beautiful face as you studied him. His stupid Illyrian senses make him flare out his wings a little before he has the chance to fully take control of his body. When your gaze finds his once more, his heart stalls in his chest before speeding up at an alarming rate. You haven't even spoken a single word to him, but his heart already sang for yours.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The oath you made before your Goddess rushes into your head as you study the handsome male in front of you. How could this be possible? The fates had decided your life lied within the temple long before you were born, so why give you a mate? A bond like this is extremely rare, you'd never seen one in your entire lifetime, albeit you lived isolated from the world for most of it. Still, this was something only a few were blessed with, a bond stronger than what mortal minds could even comprehend, so why waste it on you? Could the fates and the Mother be this cruel?

You can't even bring yourself to hope he didn't notice the brilliant bond forming between you - an angry twist pulling at your heartstrings when you dare to think of hiding it - considering the expression on his face and his silence, it seems he's already more than aware of it. All it took was a single glance and it had fallen into place for both of you.

In the midst of the rushing thoughts invading your brain, you try to remember what you've read about mating bonds. There was a book talking about them in the library, of this much you were sure, but its contents were evading your racing mind.

Gaze falling to the floor, trying to sober up from what you imagine to be one of the most intense occurrences anyone could go through, you almost miss the step he takes towards you. The surprise of it makes you flinch slightly, but it was enough for him to notice and take the same step back, wings coiling up tightly to his back and shadows moving to cover him almost completely, excitement wiped off his face and replaced with a hurt expression.

Your gaze falls on him once more, a self loathing feeling crawling up your throat and making you want to beg for his forgiveness on your knees at the thought that you put that expression on his face. This bond would take some getting used to, in what world would you kneel before a male you've just met. Still, you didn't want him to think he scared or even disgusted you in any way, mate or no mate, that was extremely rude.

You clear your throat softly, remembering the weight of your role in this temple and trying desperately to fall back into character, hoping the familiarity of your duties will bring your mind some peace and help you get through this moment.

“Forgive me, it isn't often that we get visitors,” his entire body tenses up even further at your words, but it relaxes as you keep speaking, “I welcome you to the last Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple. I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats, but also do my best to help anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just as you have been.”

You try not to look too long in his general direction in fear of getting lost in his eyes once more, but that's close to impossible when you're talking to him and he might be the most beautiful male you've ever encountered. Taking a step to the side, you hold out a hand towards the door, inviting him into the temple, something you should have already done.

He nods his head once after watching your outstretched arm for a moment longer, and then makes his way inside slowly. As he passes by, you can't help but breathe in his scent, it feels intoxicating and it takes every bit of strength in your body to not let your mind linger on how well it would smell mixed with yours, until you couldn't point out where one ended and the other began.

A gasp pulls you out of your betraying thoughts, a smile finding its way to your lips, knowing the sight was making him speechless. It always sparks a little pride in you when someone gazes upon the temple for the first time. Even after living here for centuries, this temple's beauty still takes your breath away. The entire floor was made of replandescent white stones, silver gems weave highlights into them, creating patterns across the entire room, maps of constellations and lunar phases, and giving it a particular glow of their own. They were illuminated by the giant skylight making up most of the ceiling, as to allow both the moon and sunlight to enter. You've tried identifying the materials used in this construction before but ended up coming up empty. It seems the precious stones and gems used no longer grew in this world, perhaps they never did.

At the far corner of the room there was an altar, one without statue or offering table, but an altar all the same. Even when She walked this world, your Goddess never accepted gifts or ever allowed anyone to replicate her image because even that could end up leaving traces of her power behind. The altar looks empty right now, and you catch yourself wishing he could be here to see it on a full moon, when the moon rays fall right over it and you can communicate with and receive any orders the Goddess might have for you. The entire room holds an even more intense glow during that night of the month as well, you're sure he would find it fascinating.

Making your way around him, careful not to step too close or accidentally touch his wings, you catch sight of his awe stricken face, tan skin glowing beautifully under the moonlight. A small, fond smile appears on his face when his gaze falls back on yours, and you almost curse the Mother for the challenge she just put in front of you. His beauty was truly otherworldly, it rivaled every shiny gem and stone in this room, maybe even the moon herself. How were you supposed to act normally knowing this was your mate?

“I've never seen anything like this before,” he admits softly, eyes never straying from yours. The sound of his voice makes you pause, it feels strangely familiar, like something you've been waiting to hear your entire life. There's a curious kind of magic around mating bonds, you don't know how it's possible for someone you've just met to already have so much power over you, even when you're trying your best to ignore him.

“I still find myself at a loss for words when gazing at this room as well,” you agree, wanting to cringe at the bashful expression you know has fallen over your face. Your plan of keeping a detached demeanor while fulfilling your duties was doomed from the start. You clasp your hands behind your back before continuing in what you hope is a professional voice. “The Goddess warned me of your arrival and left orders for me to help you in any way I can. If you tell me what you seek, I will give you what you came here for as long as it's within my abilities.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at your words. “How did you know I was coming?”

“The Goddess knows more than us mortals will ever be able to grasp,” you explain as vaguely as possible while hopefully not raising any suspicions. There's not a single cell in your body that thinks he's untrustworthy, but they're incredibly biased, and the inner workings of your role as the Moon's keeper must be protected.

He seems satisfied enough with your answer, but there's a different kind of air about him now. As if remembering he doesn't know you, and has found himself at your mercy.

“You haven't told me what you came for,” you remind him. If you sit in silence for long your thoughts will start drifting again.

“Right,” he clears his throat, a pinkish tint covering the tips of his rounded ears. “I come on behalf of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.” Your eyebrows raise at this, not expecting him to be such an important person. “One of the High Lady's sisters has been turned into a seer recently, and given that she wasn't even born fae, these powers have proven extremely hard to control.”

You've heard the story of the human who saved the fae from the evil clutches of Amarantha, and her sisters who were tragically thrown in the cauldron by King Hybern and turned into fae against their will. Your Goddess had even told you one of the sisters vengefully stole her powers from the cauldron, and the other was gifted seer abilities. Given the circumstances in which this all went down, it's understandable that she has been having trouble controlling her powers. Being a seer is an exceptionally heavy burden, and she's still so young too.

“We have some books that might be able to help, both in controlling one's power and pulling an entranced fae out of any visions or dreams they've found themselves stuck in. Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Yes,” he admits, apparently relieved at having found what he was looking for, “We found texts mentioning the followers of the Moon Goddess often had prophetic dreams, and wrote entire manuals on how to navigate them. Since Elain wasn't born with these powers these books seemed perfect to help her, and so the High Lady sent me searching for them.” You nod, motioning for him to follow you as you turn and start walking to the library, already making a mental list of all the books that might help his friend.

Even lost in thought, you sense him stopping in his steps as you're walking down the corridor, overwhelmingly aware of his every move as you were. This prompts you to turn around and face him in question, only to find him watching you in amazement.

“You're breathtaking,” he blurts out before he can catch himself, making heat rush up your neck and settle over your entire face. He looks away embarrassed for a moment, one of his shadows crawling up his neck and over his ear, before looking back at you with a bashful look. “I'm sorry. I just- Is it normal for you to glow like this?”

This power has been a part of you for so long, you almost forget about the way your hair lights up in the dark, an aura surrounding you as well, giving you an overall ethereal glow. “Yes, I harness power from the moon and She glows so…” you trail off, biting your lip as he keeps studying you. “The library is right up ahead,” you add, turning your back to him once more so you can gather your thoughts for the nth time since he stepped foot into this temple.

As you navigate through the familiar rows of shelves your heart finally calms, easily picking up the pertinent books. You can't help but keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, not out of suspicion, but curiosity for his every reaction. He seems content with following after you as he watches the decorations and studies the books sitting on the shelves, not once asking you what you're giving him, simply carrying the books you hand him. It makes you wonder if he usually trusts everyone this easily or if it's something reserved for you.

When you hand him the last book, you move to the back of the room slowly, the place where you keep some important magical amulets and tools, waiting on any sign from the Goddess forbidding you from lending him any of them. He comes to stand beside you then, likely noticing your hesitation.

“There is also an artifact that I think could help your friend,” you start, picking up the bracelet in question and holding it up as you explain its power, “This can help numb one's powers.”

“Like faebane?”

You shake your head, “No, this is completely painless, but it's vital that it is only used when she's finding herself lost in her visions and you're struggling to pull her out. This is not to be used as a crutch. If she used it to suppress her powers too often, she might never be able to take control of her full powers and this bracelet could become something she can't live without.” He nods, hopefully understanding the gravity behind your words. “It's also extremely rare and dangerous so I ask that, as soon as she has a better grasp of her abilities, I would say within a few years at most, this bracelet is delivered back to the temple so it can be kept safe.”

“What happens if we don't return it?”

The question makes you tense up and close your hands around the bracelet, your voice coming out clipped as you answer him. “I'm not entirely sure as no one has ever attempted something so foolish as long as I've been here, but those types of transgressions are handled by the Goddess so I imagine you would not be able to keep it even if you tried.”

“I wasn't considering keeping it. I was merely curious,” he rushes to explain, sincerity dripping from every word and making you relax a bit.

“Curious?”

“If you would be the one to come for it,” he confessed.

A warm tingly feeling spreads through your body as you digest his words. Would he seriously consider stealing from a God just for a chance to see you again? Even if it meant being at the end of your wrath? Can you be confident the bond wouldn't drive you to such extremes as well?

“I can't leave the temple unattended,” you murmur, much too softly for your own good. Your emotions are running all over the place, it almost seems like they're fighting to see which one will take control of your body, and unfortunately, you have an inkling as to which is winning as his scent overwhelms your senses once again.

“Of course,” he says, taking a small step closer to you, shadows mostly retreating from his body, “Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you.” Must his voice sound like a cup of hot chocolate after a day spent playing in the snow?

It doesn't help that you've been in this temple for so long that you can't even recall the last time someone touched you, not even sexually, no one has so much as held your hand or hugged you in decades, ever since your parents passed. Looking at him, you know you could get lost in his arms, your head resting against his strong chest.

It's only when you squeeze the bracelet too hard, a bit of its power zapping through you, that you're finally able to pull yourself from the beautiful hazel of his eyes, and your consuming thoughts. Clearing your throat and handing him the bracelet. He only hesitates a second, likely pulling himself out of the moment as well, before carefully taking it from your hand, conscious of not letting his skin touch yours, much to your dismay.

You can feel your eyes widen at the sight of his scarred hands before you have a chance to school your features. The armor he wears and the sword strapped between his wings tell you he's a warrior, but you can't imagine what could have happened for this injury to scar like this. Someone employed directly under the High Lord must have access to the best healers in the court. Suddenly, anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach at the thought that someone dared to hurt your mate.

This time he's the one to pull away from you abruptly, shadows returning to their master, and that infuriating string tugging at your heart as he does. It makes you want to reach out and hold his hand, reassure him somehow, but thankfully your brain catches up to the thought that might be overstepping, and so you simply nod at him and ask him to follow you back to the temple's main room once more.

The walk back is filled with a heavy atmosphere, not only considering your oversight, but also at the realization that you must send him away now, likely never to see him again. If you're lucky he will be the one to return the bracelet, and you will be able to see him in a few years. The thought makes you slow your pace.

It's only when you reach the heavy doors, that you allow yourself to turn to him, his face reflecting your feelings perfectly. You briefly consider mentioning the bond, at least to make sure he feels it too, but you fail to see what good that would bring. You still can't leave the temple and, now that he's gotten what he came for, he will not be able to return either. This will be the last time you see each other, regardless of your feelings.

He studies your face carefully, perhaps wondering the same. It seems he reaches a conclusion as he speaks up, “Can you tell me your name?” He sounded hopeful, but somehow scared of asking, as if denying him could hurt him beyond comparison.

You whisper your name hesitantly, knowing this isn't just another stranger, this was your mate. He repeats it, tasting it on his tongue as he stares at you with an intensity you almost couldn't bear, but were unable to look away from.

“My name is Azriel,” he offers willingly, like he wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name, and who were you to deny him this when you were already withholding so much? You repeat his name the same way he did yours, the impertinent little silver string connecting you and your mate reappearing as the delicious word left your lips.

You keep repeating it in your mind as he thanks you for your help and you watch him take flight, hesitation written in his entire body language as his wings slowly carry him over the clouds, looking back down multiple times as if fighting himself to keep moving. You repeat it once more out loud, when you can't see him anymore and you know he's out of earshot. This time his name is followed by a broken whisper of an apology.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The flight back to Velaris was one of the hardest ones Azriel has ever attempted, noticeably taking him much longer than it would have under normal circumstances. He has had to fly back home on an injured body and even injured wings, carrying another with him – Cassian of all people – and he's had to fly through the most extreme weather, heavy rain, snow and the torrid desert sun. All of those things had seemed easy compared to what he was experiencing now with a well rested body.

Both Rhysand and Cassian had mentioned how the mating bond made them act differently, how it seemed like it was taking control of their body and pushing them to act a certain way, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and go back for his mate.

He even had to take a break along the way, after watching the temple disappear right before his eyes, hidden inside the spell that had kept it safe for millenia. As the sight of the brilliant building was replaced with trees and rocks, the only thing going through Azriel's mind was that he might never see his mate again, the mere thought sending his heart into disarray. He spends a good while sitting under the moonlight, looking ahead at where he knows she is, while his shadows do their best to comfort him. Trying desperately to wrap his head around everything that happened, and how much his life changed in such a short time.

If he had been given a warning, a chance to prepare himself, then maybe he would have approached things differently, but getting blindsided by a mating bond wasn't in his plans. In fact, it had been a good while since he had stopped hoping for a mate.

He had longed for one most of his life. For someone that not only was his equal, but was also able to connect to him in ways only those who have experienced such a thing can begin to comprehend. A person that would accept him no matter how wretched he was, how much blood he has had to wash off his hands for the sake of his court. Someone he would love with every breath in him, even if it ruined him completely.

So many don't truly believe in mating bonds until they see them in front of them, but Azriel always did. He'd seen the worst this world had to offer and knew that if there was such darkness, then its counterpart would be equally as strong. And what could be stronger and brighter than love?

It wasn't until his brothers found mates of their own within a year of each other that Azriel started truly wishing for one though. Before, it was nothing more than a dream, just as he had dreamt of flying when he was locked in his cell, of seeing his mother when his cruel father kept him away from her, but seeing the happiness the mating bond had brought his brothers and how amazing the connection they shared with their mates was, he couldn't help longing for the same.

That was until enough years passed, everyone around him happily mated or in loving relationships while he stood by and watched from the same dark corner of the room. Azriel had convinced himself he wasn't worthy of a mate, even now after seeing you he can't help but feel the same. You were perfect in every aspect of the word, a beacon of light even kept away in your temple, while Azriel was nothing more than a monster. The feared Spymaster of the Night Court. Always ready to drench his hands in blood for the sake of his family and his home, always covered in shadows. A lesser fae, Illyrian of all kinds.

You deserve someone better, of that much he's sure, but the Mother had decided you were equals, and Azriel didn't mind doing his best to be worthy of you even if he had to work for it for the rest of his life. He's been waiting to love someone for so long, has been saving all of that inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shower you in affection, in reverence. Except it didn't seem like he would have the chance.

For most of your interaction, Azriel was convinced you had also felt the bond forming between you two, but he couldn't be sure, not when you hadn't even mentioned it or alluded to it before showing him out. Maybe he had read too much into things, let his own feelings bleed into his analysis, or maybe you simply didn't want a mating bond, not with someone like him. It didn't seem like you knew of him, but who's to say you haven't heard of the awful things he's done, and decided you didn't want anything to do with a monster like him.

The thought had his shadows rushing to soothe him once more, whispering vehement denials of his unworthiness as they covered him. Unfortunately, they wouldn't answer any of his questions about you, claiming it wasn't their place to explain your feelings or situation. In a way they were right, but that left him with no idea of what to think.

Azriel sat on that mountain, mulling over everything that had happened until the first rays of the sun started rising over the horizon. It wasn't until Rhysand reached out to check on him, worried at his spymaster's unusual tardiness, that he resumed his trip back to Velaris, this time passing through shadows along the way to cut his time shorter, hoping his brother hadn't caught glimpse of the heartbreakingly beautiful female consuming his every thought. Trying desperately to clear his mind as the cool wind hit his face, preparing for the meeting that was waiting for him as soon as he got home.

“So the temple truly exists?” Rhysand had been as skeptical about the temple's existence as Azriel, finding it hard to believe that such a thing could be hidden in his own court without his knowledge.

Azriel nods and sets the books you've given him on the dark desk, dropping the bracelet on top of the pile carefully, trying not to be reminded of the way you had handed it to him, or focus on your scent still clinging to it faintly. Shaking himself out of it and letting the spymaster mask fall over his face, he starts explaining how he had found the temple behind a powerful spell, going into detail about the building itself, the keeper who had helped him and the books and bracelet given to him, including the warnings you gave him, making sure to stress the fact that the bracelet was to be returned as soon as Elain gained enough control of her abilities.

“You really didn't feel the wards around the temple?”

“No, if my shadows hadn't disappeared right before my eyes I wouldn't have even noticed they were there.” So much had happened that Azriel almost forgot how peculiar those wards were, in fact all the magic present in the temple and in you had felt different.

“And this keeper?” His heart speeds up treacherously, enough so that Rhys gets a curious glint in his purple eyes, undoubtedly noticing it. “Tell me about her.”

A soft scowl takes over his features, a strange possessiveness creeping up before has the chance to quell it. “She was waiting for me at the entrance. Apparently the Moon Goddess warned her there was a visitor coming.”

“She can talk to the Goddess?”

“It seems so,” Azriel hesitates for a moment, “Her magic is different from any fae I've seen. Her hair is completely white, and her eyes aren't much darker, maybe a bit more silver. There was a certain aura about her, her entire being seemed to glow beautifully under the moonlight, even more when we moved inside. She truly looked otherworldly. In that moment, she looked even more radiant than the stars and the moon combined.”

A moment of silence falls over the room as everyone digests Azriel's words, tiny gasps leaving Feyre and Elain, who had been out of it for most of the conversation as a result of yet another one of her visions, and Nesta's jaw dropping significantly as they were not used to hearing the Shadowsinger muse about someone like this. Unfortunately, the others have seen him drunk enough when he was younger, so it wasn't as much of a surprise.

“What was that, brother?” Cassian's teasing voice cuts through his thoughts, “I thought you didn't resort to poetry.”

Azriel looks up at this, heat rising to his cheeks at the amused looks shared by everyone in the room, realizing he had lost himself in his descriptions of you, unable to keep them as clinical as he normally would, especially when it came to a mission.

“I just meant her magic manifests in a way I've never seen before,” he finishes lamely, one of his shadows oh so helpfully crawling up his neck to notify him that no one seemed to believe his excuse.

“Right, her magic,” Nesta mocks, suddenly interested in hearing about the temple after focusing on the books that would be helping her sister.

Thankfully, Amren didn't care about whether he found the keeper beautiful or not, and wanted to keep the conversation on track, a bored expression on her face as she pulled the attention back to her and the topic at hand.

“You said she called herself the keeper of the temple, correct?”

Azriel nods at her while checking his mental walls just in case, lest he also let them fall in his moment of distraction, and his High Lord or Lady saw something they shouldn't. He can only guess what feelings and thoughts would be attached to your image in his mind. If they saw this he would never hear the end of it.

“I believe she not only can communicate with the Goddess but also shares some of her powers. It's hard to determine just how powerful she truly is,” the ancient one turns to Rhys and Feyre, a serious look taking over her features, “She could become a threat to us.”

“She's not a threat,” his voice cuts through the room, protecting his mate instinctively.

Rhysand raises one annoyingly perfect eyebrow at Azriel's sudden outburst. Some of the amusement still lingers around the room, but the anger behind his statement was undeniable, creating some tension and confusion between everyone. It's not often they see him so on edge, to the point of raising his voice at Amren of all people.

He tries to calm himself as much as possible, knowing this is a symptom of the mating bond and that his brothers and sister-in-laws might be able to figure that out, and tries to explain himself once again.

“I was the one who talked to her, there were no ill intentions when she guided me through the temple and gave me the books. She even added more books than we wanted or knew existed, and the bracelet. She helped us willingly.”

Amren studies him through narrowed eyes for a moment longer before finishing her earlier thought. “Even if she had any ill intentions, keepers are bound to their temples and can't physically leave, so there wouldn't be much to worry about.”

It feels like the world stops when Azriel hears these words. Every little hope he was clinging to in regards to your bond escaped him in that moment. If what Amren said was true, you couldn't leave the temple, even if you wanted to come and find him, and he couldn't find the temple unless he needed something and the Goddess showed him the way. He could very well never see you again, or only once more, when Elain got better and he had to deliver the books and bracelet back to the temple. Was that why you ignored the bond? Because you knew there was no hope for the two of you?

Azriel spends the rest of the meeting in a sort of trance, barely able to listen to what his family was talking about, or even register what they decided when it came to helping Elain use the books. It was impossible to focus on anything when it felt like his life, a dream that had barely started was crumbling right before his eyes. He only tunes back in when the meeting is over and most of the Inner Circle starts leaving, hoping he can at least go rest from his flight, take a long bath and find a quiet place to be alone and digest these life changing last few hours.

He was already on his feet, dragging his exhausted body to the door when Rhys called out his name, making him turn around in question. “There's something else we need to discuss.” His brother was always the most perceptive at the worst times. The last thing Azriel wants to do right now is discuss his miserable fate with anyone.

Everyone filters out the room then, even Feyre who drops a kiss on her mate's cheek before following her sister out - a gesture he's more than used to witnessing but bears a different weight today - leaving the two brothers alone in the quiet office. Azriel doesn't move from his spot, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms as Rhysand studies him, daring him to start the conversation, secretly praying he simply has another mission to send him on instead of the conversation he's almost sure is about to start.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with this keeper?”

Azriel has to physically stop himself from sighing. Why couldn't the Mother let him have a moment after everything that has already happened in the last few hours?

“Nothing happened,” he sounds defensive even to himself, his mind too preoccupied to try and mask his emotions, “She gave me the books and then I left.” This much was true, unfortunately.

Rhys simply hums, always sounding irritatingly sure of himself. “So you wouldn't mind showing me your memories of last night, right? I'd like to take a good look at the temple. It seemed quite intriguing,” he pauses for a second, head tilting a fraction to the side, mouth forming into a smirk, “and so did she.”

A snarl escapes Azriel's mouth at his brother's words. Even if he knew he was being baited, controlling this damned bond was impossible right now. Rhysand's smirk only deepens, like a predator who successfully lured its prey, since his brother gives him the exact reaction he was expecting with that little comment. No wonder Azriel has to work so hard as his Spymaster, it's a miracle Rhys has lived this long.

“You look very defensive of a female you've only exchanged one simple conversation with.”

“Like I said before,” he says, that snarl not quite leaving his lips no matter how hard he tries, “She helped us without a second thought, even more than we expected. I just don't understand why everyone keeps insisting that she might be a threat.”

“I didn't say she was a threat, I simply asked you to show me what she looked like.” The High Lord taps his purple painted nails on the table, waiting for a response. When it becomes clear that Azriel isn't taking the bait, Rhys keeps going, “Can't blame me for being curious of how this keeper beautifully glows under the moonlight. She looked otherworldly, you said?”

The thought of assassinating his loving brother crosses Azriel's mind. He doesn't even know what to respond knowing those were his own words, and any reaction would be amplified by the mating bond. The High Lord had him right where he wanted him.

As he keeps staring at his brother, shadows climbing up his body until most of him is covered from those intense violet eyes, Rhysand's expression changes, a somewhat defeated look replacing the earlier amusement as he accepts that he'll have to pry the truth from his spymaster.

“Azriel, I've known you for over five centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something from me,” his face and tone turning even more serious as he continues, “I also know what a fresh mating bond feels like, the emotions it evokes in us.”

Azriel stares at his brother for another moment, before realizing there was no need to try and pretend he wasn't right, letting out a sigh before sitting down in the chair across from him defeatedly, shadows settling while his wings drooped, enough to touch the floor.

“If you already know, why are you asking me about it?”

“I didn't expect this to be your reaction,” he says, thoroughly studying Azriel's face. “I don't understand why you wouldn't be happy. I know it can be scary, but you've always wanted a mate, Az.”

“There's nothing to be happy about.”

Rhys simply rolls his eyes, “I know a bit more about mating bonds than you do. Trust me there's a lot to be happy about.”

His temper rises at this, emotions still not having settled - he's starting to wonder if they ever will. Even his shadows were becoming overstimulated, not knowing how to soothe their singer in these circumstances.

“Didn't you hear what Amren said? She can't leave the temple, she's bound to it, and I can't go back there since it's hidden under whatever spell that was,” the words almost caught in his throat, “I'm never seeing her again.”

Saying it out loud makes the whole situation unbearably real. It's not often Azriel sees himself in conversation such as these, always one to ignore his feelings for as long as possible, and then isolating himself when they become too much, but his brother knows him too well, as he said before, and was prying out everything too easily.

“I don't even know if she wanted this,” he finds himself whispering.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Azriel swallows all the self-pity, the unworthiness he felt when it came to you, or anyone else really. Diving into these feelings would lead them into a different conversation, one he wasn't sure he could handle, much less right now, and so he opts for the simpler answer.

“She didn't mention the bond once, she was ignoring it – if she even felt it at all,” he leans back and runs his hand through his hair, “my feelings were muddled the whole time I was there so I can't even know for sure.”

“You didn't tell her you were her mate either,” Rhysand reminds him.

Would things have gone a different way if he had? Or would you simply let him down as soon as he brought it up? Did it even matter? Would he be able to survive your rejection?

“She told you the temple showed itself for the people who needed it, right?” Azriel looks up at his brother, nodding. “Seems to me like you need to talk to her.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

You're not entirely sure what one is supposed to do after finding their Mother-blessed mate, and then proceed to send them on their way, possibly to never return. Not being able to get even a wink of sleep and spending the next few hours searching your library for any information on mating bonds seems appropriate though. There wasn't anything written in these books that you didn't already know about mating bonds: extreme attraction, a connection of emotions, feelings of primal possessiveness, the possibility for a love unlike any other.

There was no mention of the silver string you'd seen tied around both of your hearts, but the bond seems to manifest itself differently for everyone, and the magic your Goddess has poured into you was peculiar to say the least. Even Azriel might not have seen or felt it manifest the same way you did, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Denying it is out of the picture at this point.

The section about rejecting mating bonds caught your eye, but it quickly soured your mood. It seems there's no way to reject a mating bond and hope for life to ever go back to normal, especially for males as they would always feel like a part of them was missing. The book didn't exactly go into depth on the topic – there can't be too many other idiots thinking of turning down a mating bond, – so it didn't mention anything about just ignoring the bond. Would it just fizzle out until you could barely feel anything, or would it end up with the same effects of a rejected bond? As much as you knew this bond was doomed from the start, you didn't want to convict Azriel to a lifetime of madness, or even worse. It was bad enough he couldn't get a mate out of you.

After your mood deflates at the bleak prospect for your future, and the sun has already replaced the moon, you decide to indulge yourself for a moment. Since your encounter had been so brief, you ended up not finding out too much about Azriel aside from his name, and, as much as there was a voice nagging at the back of your mind, warning you that trying to learn more about your mate won't help you in successfully ignoring the bond at all, you're still only fae and curiosity got the best of you. How could you not be curious about your mate?

You'd heard stories about a shadowsinger working under the High Lord of the Night Court, but you didn't know if that was him as the High Lord had changed since then. If it was though, this would make him a truly important figure for this court, country even. You can't help but feel proud at the thought.

Your search for information on Shadowsingers soon proves fruitless, not being able to find much else aside from their abilities to communicate with shadows, rare as they are, so you move onto researching winged fae instead, in hopes of finding out what kind he is. There are various kinds, this much you know, but for some reason you've always imagined them all to have feathered wings. It's at times like these that you wished you had traveled more when you were younger.

Most of the day is spent like this, tucked into your favorite sofa in the library, the temple refilling your teacup and offering you little snacks as you search for any bit of information that could help you understand who Azriel is. A tug on your silver string finally pulls you out of the moment, body immediately going into alert as you feel your mate nearing. These feelings are entirely too abstract, there's no way of knowing if he's flying over the temple or simply a bit closer than he had been an hour prior - which could still be halfway across the Night Court. You'd also found in one of the books that mates could attempt reaching out to each other through the bond, the descriptions of the resulting feeling appearing quite similar to what you were experiencing at the moment.

You try to ignore it and carry on reading your book on wings - the irony not lost on you - but the string keeps tugging incessantly, even more firmly now, and you suddenly get the feeling that he was actually close, possibly even trying to reach out at the same time or following the bond.

Had he come looking for you? You told him the temple kept itself hidden unless the visitor needed something from within these walls and the Goddess allowed them passage. He had to know that he wouldn't find anything more than trees and shrubs in this forest, the temple keeping itself out of sight even if he had been here before and knew its exact location, such were the wards around this place.

Putting away the book and sitting up on the sofa, you wonder what you should do. There's no way of communicating with him, and you won't be able to let him in, no matter how desperate you were since that decision was not your own to make. Your role was to protect the temple, but you knew he wasn't a threat either. Were you to simply stand by and watch while he looked for you, only to be met with silence? The Mother seems to have a twisted sense of humor.

As you were preparing yourself mentally for what you assumed were going to be a tough few hours, you feel the unmistakable sign of someone passing through the barrier, prompting you to stand up and winnow straight to the main hall, opening the front doors in a rush, only to find a familiar dark figure waiting for you.

If you weren't witnessing it with your own eyes, if your heart wasn't beating at that rhythm that seemed reserved solely for him, you wouldn't have believed this to be true. Your feet move of their own accord, carrying you towards your mate as he stands at the entrance to your temple, a contagiously hopeful expression on his face as he watches you move to him.

“How did you get here?” You can't help the dumb question, not being able to understand what is happening in the midst of your surprise and every other feeling that came with his presence.

“I needed to talk to you,” he explains in a breathy tone, smiling down at you like he wasn't sure if this would have worked either, if he was actually going to be able to find you.

The Goddess showed him the way, if She hadn't he wouldn't have been able to find you, even with any shadowsinger trick he might have had up his sleeve. Could She know he's your mate? She had been the one to warn you of his arrival the day before after all.

You're still trying to gather your thoughts when he continues, skipping over all the pleasantries as if he couldn't keep the words in any longer.

“You're my mate.”

Hearing the word coming from his mouth makes your heart soar, a tingling feeling spreading over your entire body as if lava was now running through your veins. This was not a confession you needed to hear, but the bond welcomed it anyway.

“I know,” you admit, a bittersweet smile overtaking your features.

“Are you unhappy with it? With me?” You quickly shake your head in denial, but he continues before you have the chance to explain, “I would understand it if you were, and if you don't want the bond, I won't force you to accept it. I promise I will never hurt you.”

Is this what has been going through his mind since he left? That you wouldn't want him? The thought makes you swallow, you've only wanted to spare him as much pain as you could, not hurt him more yourself.

“Azriel, that's not it. There's nothing wrong with you, or any reason I wouldn't want you as my mate” you assure, “but I swore my life to protecting this temple, and I can't physically leave the grounds. That's not fair to you.”

He doesn't seem to be surprised at the information, meaning he was probably already aware of your predicament and decided to come talk to you anyway, but he still takes a moment before speaking, thinking through his words as he watches you, shadows coming up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you make a vow of chastity or anything similar?” The question takes you aback for a second, heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Not explicitly, no,” you clear your throat, “but it's hard to keep a relationship when you're bound to a temple hidden in the middle of nowhere. I can't even walk past the first few steps.”

Azriel looks behind him at your words. If he took a few steps down, you wouldn't be able to follow him, a different set of wards keeping you within these grounds. When he meets your eyes once again, you add carefully, “This isn't a relationship worth pursuing when we both know it won't end up working.”

“I think I would like to decide that for myself,” he says as he takes a small step closer to you, “if you'll allow me.”

“What?”

“I would like to come visit you whenever I can, and get to know you. This… I don't think we should throw away a chance like this so lightly, not without at least giving it a try.” He closes most of the distance between you, raising up his hand and holding his palm up for you to take, “Even if it never becomes a romantic relationship, or if it ends up breaking both of our hearts, I don't want to be the person who didn't fight for something so special in fear of getting hurt.”

You watch his hand as you mull over his words. It's not as if he doesn't make sense in his argument, you're more than aware how downright stupid it is to throw away a mating bond when some people spend their whole lives searching for one, but you're scared, for both of your sakes. Letting your mate into your life, even without accepting the bond, knowing that there will come a time when you will want more from it than what you're capable of having would not simply hurt you both, but change both of your lives beyond recognition – it could even kill you. And yet, staring into his hopeful eyes every little reason why you should be turning him down, walking back into the temple and closing the door behind you, seems to escape your mind.

When his hand lowers slightly, wings drooping as well, possibly taking your hesitation as denial, your hand moves to hold his instinctively, surprising the both of you. You had been kidding yourself into thinking you could fight a bond like this. The smallest sign that your mate would leave and your body moved to keep him by your side. Your decision has been made. You can only hope the Gods will have mercy on you.

“I would like to get to know you too, Azriel,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours as a blinding smile takes over his devastatingly handsome face. “As long as the Goddess shows you the way to the temple, I don't see anything wrong with… talking.”

He lets his thumb run over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips, sending your heart into disarray as he leaves a soft kiss on your skin. A flush covers the tip of his ears, and you catch a flash of the silver string connecting the both of you.

“Then I promise to come see you as often as I can.” He lets your hands fall between you two, fingers still intertwined as you stare at each other like fools. You catch yourself after a moment, thanking the Mother for living in this isolated mountain for once so no one could witness this.

“Do you want to come in? You must be tired after your flight,” you invite, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his skin immediately.

His gaze drops to your hand before meeting yours once again and nodding, following you inside into the main hall he had been in before. It looked different in the light of day, his hazel eyes studying it once more.

“I didn't fly all the way here,” he starts, gaze still stuck on the stone covered walls, “I can travel through shadows, similarly to how most high fae can winnow.”

“Oh.” You watch as his shadows move lazily around him, coming up his legs. “Is that one of your shadowsinger abilities?”

“Yes.” You wanted to ask more, your earlier curiosity returning, but you find a conflicted expression when he meets your eyes, you can also feel it in your chest, and so you wait for him to decide if he wants to share it with you.

“I'm not high fae,” he admits.

“Right, the wings,” you let out, much too excitedly, as your eyes fall on the huge appendages on his back, “I've never met anyone with wings, and haven't even heard of featherless wings. I searched in the library for types of winged fae, but most of our collection is a bit outdated, and the Goddess was never too interested in those sorts of things so I couldn't find anything that fit your description.” Your mind finally catches up to your words then, eyes widening before falling to your hands as you play with your fingers, and add lamely, “I have a lot of time on my hands here, and I didn't think I'd see you again so…”

You dare a look at his face when his silence drags on too long, finding him watching you with a surprised expression, wide hazel eyes staring into your white ones. His shadows had crept up his neck once again - singing to him you suppose.

Azriel finally finds his words after another moment, your eyes not straying from his for a second, “I'm Illyrian,” he starts, studying your face carefully before continuing, “As far as I know, we're the only ones whose wings have no feathers.”

“Illyrian?”

“Have you heard of it?” He seems scared somehow, but you're not exactly sure why he would be. You try to remember where you've heard the word before, only taking you a moment to remember them as people who live in the mountains up in the north, and were part of the High Lord's army.

“Yes. I know they're people who live in the mountains, and fought in the war but I didn't even know you had wings,” you gesture to them, “I didn't get much of a chance to travel before I came to the temple, so I've never met any Illyrians.”

“That's all you've heard?” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his insistence. “Illyrians have an unfavorable reputation. The males train their whole lives to fight, and the females aren't regarded as much more than a means for procreation,” he explains further, “Some have started changing their ways, slowly, but most camps insist on their traditions, no matter how cruel. They- We just don't have a good reputation.”

You start understanding where he was getting at. Some fae had trouble opening their eyes to how the world was changing around them, choosing to remain willfully ignorant to the harm it brought those who were different from them, who they deemed as lesser. He was scared that, had you heard about whatever cruelty he's seen from his peers, you would judge him for it. You feel a little offended that he would think so lowly of you, but the truth is he doesn't know you at all, or you him.

“It's hard to outlive archaic traditions when we live for centuries. I wouldn't ever dream of passing judgment on an entire group of people for the beliefs some of its members insist on clinging onto,” you clasp your hands together behind your back, shrugging as you smile up at him, “and I might be biased, or even wrong, but I think you're very kind, Azriel. You came all the way here to help your friend, with no real proof that you'd find what you were looking for, and then you came back to ask permission to visit me, even when you thought I might not accept it. Cruel is the last word I'd use to describe you. I'd rather go with sweet.”

“Sweet?” He asks, a flush rising to his cheeks and a bashful smile finally erasing that conflicted expression off his face. “You think I'm sweet?” You hum in agreement, your grin growing so large it hurts your cheeks. “I'll have to let my mother know at last someone agrees with her.”

You let out a laugh, the image of a baby Azriel getting showered in praises from his mother entering your mind. You almost have trouble imagining him as a child, but you have no doubts he was more than sweet, adorable even, with his round cheeks and small wings.

“So…” You lean back on your heels, intertwining your hands behind your back. “Do you want me to show you around the temple?”

“I would love to,” he agrees with a blinding smile on his face.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader

On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?

Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.

[Horror Masterlist]

The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.

"You'll love it here. I just know it."

The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path. 

Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.  

"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously. 

Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.

"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."

One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street. 

"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.

Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women. 

"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer. 

He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse. 

Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning. 

None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.

Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention. 

"What happened to your hands?"

You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.

"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."

"Hmm. Isn't everyone?" 

Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children. 

"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."

You chuckle slightly at the literal observation. 

"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."

"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery. 

"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."

He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling. 

"Do your hands bother you that much?"

Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...

He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?

"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."

"I was never invited."

"Why?"

You shrug.

"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"

Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture. 

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."

"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."

A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions. 

"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.

His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy. 

(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise. 

As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home. 

As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real. 

He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging. 

Oh, he can't wait to see you again.

It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street. 

"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group. 

"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger. 

Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman. 

"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful. 

You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.

It had to be done. 

Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil. 

It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.

Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat. 

"Edward?"

The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind. 

"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act. 

You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile. 

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window. 

"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests." 

You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.

When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much. 

And then what?

As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever. 

Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it. 

You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you. 

You're home. 

[vibinsane]

can we meet again once more? she falls asleep unbeknownst that her dream-self is awaiting to meet with dawnbreaker, but this time dawnbreaker wishes to talk to her about something personal.

note: thanks to this quote i found on tumblr that made me immediately think of dawnbreaker and @zayne-snowman for being an awesome zayne roleplayer (gimmick blog is a new term that i actually genuinely like and will use it now), since reading their posts of people interacting with dawnbreaker, it made me adore zayne even more as a rafayel girlie aheh. anyway! to those that read this, i hope you enjoy!

warning: angst once more (this will be my stamp), slight hurt with comfort, he will do anything to ensure she is ok whether mentally or physically, hints of pieces from foreseer myth if you squint

another day of being a hunter has passed and the city is as peaceful as i can be. that was her duty and she loved to provide that help in not only protecting the city, but also protecting her fourteen year old self. 

now she can return home and settle herself in bed where unbeknownst to her, she would meet a man that she forgot in the waking life, but remembers very well in her dreams. as she falls asleep, a warmth surrounds her more than her blanket, there is a smile on her face that translates to the one in her dreams as she felt warm arms wrap around her body.

the man was silent, burying his face against her neck and inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume and letting it linger in his senses, allowing himself to engrave it into his mind for when he must let her go once more. she remained where she was, unsure of how she got here, but the man standing and hugging her from behind like she was the most delicate snowflake in a world full of snowstorms was no stranger to her. 

“i’m sorry, dawnbreaker… did i make you wait for too long?” she asked softly, raising her hands to rest on his arms, squeezing them gently as she turned her head to brush her lips gently against his temple. 

he shook his head, holding her closer. “no, not at all. in fact, if you don’t know, i’ll remind you… i will wait for however long i need to just to see you and hold you like this again.”

she smiled, although it was a mix of sorrow and happiness, two emotions that could never coexist with one another, yet were easy to conceive. then, she turned around and cupped dawnbreaker’s face, her fingers gently drumming against his cheeks as she gazed up at him. 

“even if the certainty of me returning is little to none? you would risk that much if it meant you’d see me again? am i really worth that much?” 

it had been a question that was stuck in her mind like a fly in a venus fly trap, no matter how much she tried to remove the thought, the insecurity to ensure nothing came between her and dawnbreaker, that question became a plague and dawnbreaker must have sense the shift as he immediately drew her in closer.

“of course. in this world, i have nothing left. i want to be selfish. allow me to be selfish and i promise to take care of you as much as i possibly can here in this world. it’s—” 

“fleeting.” she finished his sentence with a tender smile. “everything around us and us in general is fleeting, yet if it’s all i can have, i could never wish for anything more. and you can be selfish, dawnbreaker. in a sense, this is your world and i’m becoming a permanent visitor, until you no longer want me to come back.” 

dawnbreaker eased back and stared at her with his piercing gaze before he grabbed her chin, gently tilting it up so their eyes met. “there will never be a day where i’m not looking forward to your return. there will never be a day where i wish for you not to return. and there will never be a day that i stop myself from feeling these emotions you give me. for once in this life of mine, i feel something and it’s all because of you.” 

she listened intently and nodded her head. insecurities plagued her mind, but dawnbreaker never once allowed those insecurities and self-sabotaging tendencies to remain in her head for too long. perhaps, that is why it was so easy for her to fall for him. how she felt so drawn to his presence, that she would do everything in her power to meet in the same world in her dreams. 

“then, when i fall asleep, i will do my best to make sure to meet you once more. over and over again until our worlds allow us to meet face to face outside of our dreams.”

“do you believe such a thing is possible?”

“i do. it’s all thanks to you, dawnbreaker.” 

dawnbreaker was quiet as he finally pulled away from her and held out his hand. “come, then, let’s have a walk. there is something i wanted to talk to you about. nothing horrible, i assure you… just something that has been on my mind.”

as the two walked and the snow gentle fell over the city, dawnbreaker stopped in front of a cafe. he gazed through the window and in there was a scene that did not belong to his world. in there was a version of him who was a doctor and she was there sitting in front of him, eating lunch it would seem. he could not help but feel bitter that this version of himself was allowed to be with her when she is awake.

“dawnbreaker?” she spoke out softly when she noticed him seemingly staring into the empty cafe. “what’s wrong?” 

he turned and looked at her before shaking his head. “it’s nothing…” he stated, and she did not pry any further. 

they walked a few steps more before they stumble onto a field of jasmine flowers. it was then that she let go of dawnbreaker’s hand and ran to the field of flowers, frowning.

“oh no! i knew i was forgetting something, have they not bloomed since?” 

“they are just resting, and do not worry about taking care of them, we can only do so much in this environment. ah, but come back here.”

he had gestured for her to return to his side, but instead he walked over to stand beside her, coaxing her to stand up before he held her hand. “are you curious as to what i wish to talk to you about?” 

“i am, but i don’t want to pry, so i would wait until you’re ready to talk about it.” 

“you’ve called me dawnbreaker since the day we met, but can you stop calling me that?” 

“oh—does it bother you?” 

“no, i am used to it, but i want you to call me by my real name.” 

she tilted her head, curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she met his gaze. 

“from now on, you can call me zayne.” 

the name tugged something in her chest, her hand then turning to interlace her fingers with his as she gave it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. 

“all right, then. thank you… zayne.” 

that odd muscle in dawnbreaker’s chest skipped a beat upon hearing her utter his name with such delicacy, it confused him for a bit before he regained his senses, stepped forward and held her in his arms. he cupped her chin once more and leaned down as he lifted her face up for their lips to meet in a sweet kiss. 

“no, darling, thank you.”

“but i haven’t done—” she whispered against his lips after their deep kiss. 

“you’ve done much more than you may ever know.”

her dream was spent on time with dawnbreaker, this time she managed to make him laugh and she could not help how happy it made her feel when he caught himself and tried to play it off, something about his image and how it could not be ruined.

but as the time approached for her to wake up again, she hugged dawnbreaker extra tight this time, placed a kiss onto his cheek and promised to see him once more when they both fall asleep.

but when she awakened from her slumber, she was left with an empty feeling. she sat up and touched her lips where she dreamed of someone kissing her goodbye. she furrowed her brows trying to recall the dream, but no memory came to mind. 

“as always…” she mumbled to herself as she got up to open the blinds of her window. she thought of the man in her dreams, she knew it was a man, but she could not recall a face, not even features. just thoughts and memories of his touches and words, nothing more, no face to place onto the unknown figure. 

“do you exist or have i made you up?”

[minijenn]

UF Preview

Yeah so I started working on Magic and Mystery. Kind of keeping it as a mix of the old version of these chapters, with a completely new second half that I think ya'll will really enjoy. For now, enjoy the kids interacting with the Gems who are just ya know, early UF, shady af.

---

As the light faded, the Crystal Gems appeared, hot off the heels of another successful mission. Pearl and Amethyst shared a proud smirk, while Garnet stood between them, a bubbled gemstone hovering over her hand. Much like she’d done with the centipeedle a few days ago, she sent the bubble to somewhere unknown with a mere flick of her wrist. Just one of the many peculiar, impressive feats the Gems could apparently pull off. 

“Hi, guys!” Steven hopped up from the couch, running over to meet them. 

“Oh! Hello there, kids!” Pearl greeted. She offered the twins a polite wave as they followed after Steven, still amazed by what they’d just seen. “What are you both doing here?

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Amethyst chuckled. “You got tired of hanging around the shack with Stan, so you came up here to chill with us instead, right? Can’t say I blame you. The old guy can be a bit of a drag sometimes.”

“Um… well, we’re technically supposed to be working down at the shack right now…” Dipper admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“But what Grunkle Stan doesn’t know won’t kill him!” Mabel chimed in much more cheerily. “Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. I mean, he is pretty old… Hm…”

“Ha! Skipping work to have fun instead? Turns out you two are cooler than I thought,” Amethyst elbowed both of the twins as she pushed her way past them toward the kitchen. “Which is crazy; I never thought anyone related to Stan could be “cool”.”

“I hate to say it, but I can’t help but agree with Amethyst…” Pearl interjected, a diffident frown on her face. “While I usually wouldn’t approve of anyone shirking away from their responsibilities, you kids are probably much better off spending your time up here instead of at that so-called ‘Mystery’ Shack.”

“Oh! Oh!” Mabel’s hand shot up into the air. “Do you guys have any real mysteries here?”

“A few,” Garnet said vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?” Dipper asked, instantly curious. Between lake monsters and manotaurs, he hadn’t gotten a chance to investigate the Gems as much as would have liked. And what better place to start than here, in the very temple they called home, getting answers straight from the source? “Mysteries like… whatever’s behind that door over there maybe?” 

He pointed to the large, elegant door that stood behind the warp pad, marked with a star and a gemstone resting on each of its points. “Oh, you mean the temple?” Amethyst asked, sticking her head back out of the fridge as she rooted through it. 

“The temple?” Dipper repeated, confused. “I thought we were in the temple.”

“Nah, this isn’t the temple,” Amethyst corrected. “This is just the house. It’s kinda like a lobby to the temple, actually.”

“Wait, so does that mean my room is part of the lobby?” Steven asked. “Maybe I should set up a welcome desk for when visitors come by, just like a real lobby!”

“Anyway…” Pearl continued. “The temple serves as our base. Garnet, Amethyst, and I live inside of it, while Steven has his own room out here. At least until he becomes more accustomed to using his Gem.”

“Yep!” Steven perched his hands on his hips, taking up a bold pose. “And when I do, I’ll be able to go in there any time I want, right?”

“Yes,” Garnet answered before Pearl could protest. 

“Wow! I bet there’s so many cool things in there!” Mabel exclaimed, excited. “Mind if we take a peek?”

 She attempted stepping past the Gems to get a better look, only for Garnet to step in the way to halt her advance. “That’s not a very good idea.”

“What? Why not?” Dipper asked. 

“Um… well, the temple… It’s a bit… dangerous,” Pearl explained, frowning awkwardly. “Especially for… non-Gems-” 

“Non-Gems, pfft, just say it like it is, P,” Amethyst cut in. “It’s waaaay too much for plain ol’ humans, like you guys!” She jumped in between the twins, ruffling their hair as she let out a laugh. In light of the circumstances, her “joke” wasn’t one that either Dipper or Mabel found very funny. 

“Amethyst!” Pearl scolded, appalled by her rudeness. “But yes… The temple really is no place for humans. We’re sorry, but we just don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“But don’t be so down about it!” Amethyst encouraged as soon as she noticed the frowns on both of the twins’ faces. “At least you guys can still hang out here with Steven.”

“Yeah!” Steven exclaimed, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. “And you guys are welcome here any time!”

“...Thanks, Steven,” Dipper returned with a half-hearted smile. Still, he couldn’t quite keep his sights off the temple door, longing to get even just a peek at whatever lay beyond it. At the secrets the Gems seemed so keen on keeping completely to themselves.

[nzia-writes]

•{ Our Ends Meet}•

RATED SLUTTY! 18+

Sums: The chieftain of a wakandan village receives a visitor who bears unsettling news. Takes place a day before the Infinity War

Interact please and thank you.

(Pls excuse the spaces below. I’m not sure why it automatically formats that way!)

Okoye

(I am obsessed)

Children are the temples of our Mother Earth. A logic that isn’t vastly accepted, but it is a logic you nurture and follow as tradition. Like Baba Abdu said the moment a child would exit the womb: “The youth are of rich blood, praise them as such.”

“Keep your body straight. Eyes on the middle of the target.” You straighten little Eshile’s posture and readjust the bow and arrow tangled between his small fingers. His comrades shoot their arrows with not much struggle to his right and his left. He is discouraged, nervous even, for his lack of coordination.

“Whatever time is best.” You provide him the space to meditate on his decisions. His arrow trembles and beads of sweat roll down his head as the sweltering summer heat and the pressures of the target weigh in on him. Your eyes are taken off of him but for a second before you see two arrows tear through the target. Bullseye.

Everyone is shocked. You are spilling with merit. “Oh! Son, that was great!”

Eshile gulps largely. “That was not me.”

Everyone turns around. There standing on the back porch with a bow in her possession is General Okoye. She remains positioned, aiming high. What an arrogant entrance. This is not the time nor the place. She knows of the rules and yet she still smiles as the children take their respective bows. Little Eshile is frozen in his spot. Your eyes lower to his pants leg. It is gradually growing darker in color, dampening. He is pissing. Okoye’s face has fallen and she stares in concern. You were sure her intentions were pure but the damage has already been made.

“Session is over, kids. Go rest at the play stations. Cooking class is next, hm?”

“Yes, Nana!” They scamper off.

“Son,” you crouch eye level with Eshile. He is not all there but enough of him is there to be reeled back in. Cradling his face gently, you speak to him with the gentle, kind tone he so deserves in the moment. He is back in seconds, still shooken, but he is back. “Now go to Yumaja. She will help you with your clothing, yes?”

“Y-Yes,” he stutters.

“I love you. Now run along.” He doesn’t pay much mind to the smooch delivered to his cheek.

He catches another look at the concerned warrior lingering on the porch before darting off. You then adjust your spectacles, summoning a holographic screen to swipe across. You hit the disable button and the targets begin to diminish before your eyes.

“Nana,” You mock. “Soon I will wear snow-white hair and trot with swollen feet.” You send over your shoulder as you click on a programmed button to fabricate your activity for the next day. Always act ahead of time.

Okoye speaks from where she stands. “Why is there so much haste to age? Last week you were fifty, today you are sixty. Is old age a kink of yours?”

“Ah, cut it out. No kink shaming,” you joke. “Time moves much too fast. It’s only right that I question where it goes.“

“I assume, your beauty. You look younger every time I see your face in those headlines.” She leans against the back door, looking as commanding, and soft as ever.

None of that. Her flattery will not make you move. You will make her move. You pick up a bow and adjust the leather quiver draped over your shoulder. By the time you step onto the first step of the porch, three arrows are sent flying at Okoye. They land near her fingers. Her eyes widen. “Whaat?! You take joy in attempted murder now?”

Your fingers grip her jaw, moving her toward you. “Don’t ever scare my children again. You owe little Eshile an apology.” You cast a simmering glare before passing into your home with her in tow. She was not meaning to instill fear, she was trying to give the children some motivation, for they were struggling with their aim. “It was already in my mind to apologize the moment I saw his face, my love. I am sorry to you as well.”

“I’m sure you are. Leave your spear outside.”

“Do you seriously think I would be bold enough to bring a spear in your holy home? You would wave sage in my face and chant your tongues.”

“You are still going to be cleansed. You have provoked fear around here. I’m sure the demons are not too far away. Maybe you are one of them. My bald headed demon,” you joke.

“Haha, hilarious,” she waves you off.

As you share light conversation with her down your home’s luxurious halls, explaining new historic additions, you stumble upon the living room. The news cast catches your ear. “The King has not announced when the evacuation will be initiated, but this will be of no ease for Wakanda. Danger is on the horizon brothers and sisters— You power the tv off. The news channel invites envious spirits into the home. There will be none of that.

“Hmm,” you hum. Okoye stands slightly tense. You assume she knows something about this evacuation fiasco. Maybe that is why she chose to show her presence without warning. You are about to find out. Before she can open her mouth, you tell her to keep her explanations to herself, to follow you to the kitchen. She sighs but does as so.

The kitchen smells of citrus and curry spices. A beam of light welcomes itself inside and spreads throughout. “Get over here.” You help Okoye to a seat at the table. You then pour her a cup of warm golden milk. It has been her favorite since the honeymoon days. It surprised you quite a bit. You assumed she would be the flashy wine type but she has never forgotten where she comes from.

“Now, what I saw yesterday, I didn’t expect it to come this soon,” you say.

Okoye perks up. “What did you see?”

“I had a premonition.” You join her at the oak table.

Your intuition is one that has been passed down your lineage, gifted with the eye of the wise. Okoye is always enamored by the accuracy of your predictions. Especially those of her triumphs as one of the Dora.

As she awaits your commentary, she interlocks her fingers with yours.

Soon enough, you speak. “During my meditation at the Temple, I saw it. Fire. War. Death. Anguish. All of it befalling The Golden City”

“My love, that had to take a toll on you? You have taken your bath?”

Premonitions depletes one of their energy. Legend says that the mind alternates between the spiritual realm and the time realm, communicating with spirits of many motives. The ancestors have dipped themselves in the mother lake to cleanse themselves, and you have remained committed to tradition.

“Nevermind that. Is this what you came to tell me?”

“Affirmative.”

“I am not alright then.”

Okoye exhales. “I came to see my lover first. The news comes second.”

“Okoye, what is going on?”

She pauses momentarily. “There is a war. The Avengers say it is assumed to be one of mass destruction. One that can only be fought on resistant land.”

Of course it is another war. War has left Wakanda sick. Hardship after hardship. All rooted in the name of fear.

Your chair creaks as you lean back. “Another land for them to destroy? What is of the Black Panther these days? Fighting amongst the Americans. There is always war with them. Bast help us, we cannot withstand another.”

“We are stronger than you think, my love.”

“Wakanda is precious as much as it is strong. It is no nation to be spared. Our culture. Our fruitful history. Does it not hold meaning to you?!”

Okoye sips gracefully. A moment of silence gathers as she allows you to calm yourself. She keeps her voice low as she speaks once more. “This threat is far too great for pride. I am talking about mass extinction. Half the universe gone with a snap of fingers. My love, If this man, this thanos, retrieves what he so seeks, I may never see you again. You may never see me again. Eshile too.”

Your grip on her hand tightens. A life without those that you love? That is a life stripped from meaning. That is suffering. “I see.” You take deep anxious breaths. “I apologize I was just—“

“Concerned, I know.” Okoye is by your side now. “And that is okay. We will be okay.” Her embrace is warm. It catapults you to a state of mind that has less fear and more love. Your muscles ease with it, eyes sliding shut.

“You are shaking like Bambi,” she snickers, kissing your cheek.

You smack her arms. “Well my heart has dropped out of my ass! What do you expect when you tell me I may cease to exist in hours’ time!”

“Mmm. I expect you to stand on your two feet—to raise your chin up high and come with me so we can cherish the time that may count as our last. This is not our first rodeo.”

“That was different. If it is not seeing the ones I love again…well…I am not a warrior.

“A warrior is great for not only their skill in combat, but for their desire to keep fighting. You have so much fight in you. Do not think otherwise.”

“Sweet words that I will not believe. I ran from a wasp the other day and did more damage to my hair than those aunties at the ceremonial reunions.”

Okoye laughs aloud.

“Why do you not mourn the possibility of Wakanda’s end, my love?” You run a thumb across her cheek.

“When you risk your life day after day, the end is all you think about.”

“That is suffering.”

“Not when you have made peace with it.”

You let that marinate. It is disheartening as much as it is honorable. “How long before evacuation?”

“We start by morning. Not much time.”

“We have worked with less. Pack your things. We will head to our ritual sight after I give the children my farewells. They have been retiring early as of late.” You stand from the chair and Okoye stands with you.

“We can bake these nasty curry patties of yours and bring them along as well.”

You point an accusing finger at her. “You only call them nasty because you secretly love them.”

“I do,” she snags a piece from the pile of previously made patties. A squeal fills the room as the flavor hits her from all angles. So giddy for food that is ‘nasty.’ “This one needs a little lemon.” She hoards the cupboards in search of your kettle of sun-dried lemons.

You scoff. “Whatever. I will be back.” Once outside in the beaming heat of Birnin Azzaria, you slide between busy bodies as they tote vases and market food, sandals kicking up red dust. The odds are forever stacked against you.

~¥~

The temple of Azzaria stands atop a forested mountain, foreseeing the Burnin Azzaria. The sky has eased over and glows a rebellious orange. So soft and delicate on the skin. So pungent you can taste the earthy aromas on your tongue. Colored dots paint your face and Okoye’s. Beadwork is splayed across your chests. And your locs are freed from your turban.

During this time of the day, the sun meets the waters and the gods bestow enchantment, thus bringing a rise to sexual prowess. And well…you and Okoye have chosen to harvest it.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Let it slide down your throat,” Okoye husks.

Your bodies are bare to the brisk winds and the call of Mother Earth. Ritual candles encircle your united bodies, smoke slithering from the wicks, bringing forth The Wakening; in which the soul has been freed. Yours has soared, clutching and melding with Okoye’s as you share your body. You feel a pull in the chest. Toe curling pleasure. Precious moans.

Okoye has her feet planted on either side of your face, heatedly swirling her hips, riding until she should see her ending. You provide a balance of dominance by gripping her ass to guide her up and down your long pink tongue while allowing her freedom to grind on her own. Your groans travel to her toes as you work overtime to consume and consume, to allow your bodies this energetic exchange.

“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, yes, yesss.” Her toned stomach flexes as she sputters and grinds faster. Her vulva blooms like tulips in the peak of spring. Glistens like sticky nectar were smeared on it, sweetening and hydrating your slackened jaws to the likes of heaven. You spit and suck on her pretty folds, savoring all of her. Goodness. Stars are what she sees behind her eyelids and euphoria is what she feels recoiling in her abdomen.

“Oh my….you are being so good for me, so good.”

An orgasmic pressure orbs down south. You both know it’s coming, so it is only fair to usher it in faster. You flick and suck her clit rapidly, pussy juice sprinkling upon its home. She gasps aloud, “Too much. Fuck.” Then she pauses and slightly raises from your mouth.

“You are running now? What did I tell you about that, hm?” You send a mean smack to her ass.

“Wait. Just wait.” Her fingers inch down to spread plump lips, cocoa-brown folds glistening beneath the kiss of the sun. “Mmmh,” she sucks in her bottom lip as she slides her fingers inside, pumping slowly, juices rolling down her thighs in beads. She does it for your pleasure and her own. This may be the last time your divine connection will be explored. It is best to make it last.

“Let me taste, my love. I need you.”

“You will have me,” she whispers. She then slides her creamy coated fingers against your elongated tongue. You suck her off nastily, tasting the sweet musky flavor of her depths. She has always tasted the best, and has always given it the best. You will never leave. Ever.

You chase her fingers as she retracts and she cannot help but chuckle. “You are something else.”

But she loves it beyond saying.

She slides them in her own mouth next, moaning as it melts on her tongue. Then she’s back to putting that pussy all in your mouth. This time she leans back at an angle for an easier ride. It pays off beautifully. You devour her whole until her thighs vibrate into silk. She holds your head still and grinds desperately, walls pulsing to the beat of hollow drums. “Uhhnn. I’m…I’m…mmmh.”

She finishes off, letting her rivers gush in your mouth. Unable to contain the overwhelming shocks, she crawls off the length of your face and melts into empty space next to you. Her sheen chest heaves and her hand becomes trapped between her clenched thighs. Face crinkled in euphoria. Spine arched. Singing cries of fulfillment. You aren’t sure she’s met herself until she relaxes her legs and opens her eyes.

“Who told you to do that to me?”

“You ask? I will deliver.” You lean in, kissing her slow and deep. She flicks your tongue with her own and you both fall victim to a game of rolling your tongues around. Saliva and ripe juices are swapped, moans and giggles becoming the only sound left of the sexual escapades. Final pecks are given as she pulls away. Her angelic gaze penetrates yours.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you and everything there is to know about you. I still have much to discover in this complex mind of yours. So much.”

“You will.”

A moment of stillness grasps your heartstrings. There is the possibility of everything ending. But there is also the possibility of everything continuing. Be that as it may, the universe and the world will march on in this timeline. There is still so much to experience with what remains.

You and Okoye agree on tending to the platters of food on the gigantic plush. You first blow out the ritual candles and cover yourselves in thin woolen blankets. You end up seated across her lap, feasting your eyes on the brilliant city lights as they sprawl across the skyline. The Maglev levitation train and the hover cars glide in the dim sky soundlessly. The moon has now risen on its feet. The spirits with it.

“Your coconut rice and prime rib reminds me of Nomble,” she chews the meal before her.

“I have the touch of the garden god then, yes?”

“I guess,” she gives her infamous side-eye. “I believe you would be a great addition to the Training Facility’s chef crew. On our days of battle, we have these humongous feasts. It is happening right now as we speak.”

You swallow the savory meal that is your vegetable medley and seasoned soy. “Well there is no need for the feast when you have it right here.”

“With the woman I love,” she pecks your lips, sweet as can be.

“Here. I want you to keep this.” You remove your beaded adornment from your neck and carefully attach it to Okoye’s. A piece of you is what she will carry with her in battle to remind her that she serves, not in vain, but in purpose and honor.

Doing it all for love.

“Fight well tomorrow, do you hear me? Help save this universe.”

Okoye chuckles. Your love is one she will always remember, no matter what fate she will meet by morning. “Is there anyone in Wakanda of any match to me combat-wise? If not the Black Panther?”

“Me.”

“Craziest thing I’ve heard since Aneka last told me she manhandled Ayo.”

“What?!”

“I’m telling you, the girl has some nerve.”

“Mmmh. Well I know you have yet to manhandle me.”

That was a bold lie. A bold bold bold lie. But lies are fun to tell. And if this is the last lie you tell, might as well go out with a banger.

“Is that a challenge, my love?”

“Whatever you are going to give, I want it.” You shrug off her lap to rest your plate on the side.

Okoye will not let that challenge fly. She sets her dish to the side and brings you in by the throat. You both fall back in giggles. Maybe fall into another round of love-making? Maybe sit beneath the belts of stars to chat and share your life’s aspirations one hundred times over? Whichever may fit the moment, there will be a well-known shared love. What comes with this shared love is the feeling, the utter appreciation, that death is not the end.

End note: I like to write sex. That is the sentence of the day. 😁

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 37

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

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They filled Halsin in on all he’d missed over lunch. Everything that happened at the creche, the kidnapping of Wyll’s father, Raphael’s proposition, their new pets, Gale’s orb being stabilised and Malitas’s less-than-pleasant attitude towards him… Halsin was amazed how much had happened in the few days he’d been away from them. 

After lunch he joined them with the research, offering his skills to help translate, and soon papers were piling up quicker than Gale could read through them. 

“Ooh, now this is interesting,” Astarion said excitedly, pointing to the page he was reading. “He’s made notes on us.” 

“He has??” Saff asked in surprise. 

“Yes, he’s trying to find out who each of us are, though so far he only knows who Gale and Wyll are. He’s also been trying to work out if each of us have anything that would interfere with the cure he’s making. He’s concerned about Lae’zel’s psionics, my vampirism, and your everything,” he said with a laugh as he looked at Gale. 

“He did not write that,” Gale scoffed, thinking that sounded more like one of Astarion’s jabs. Shadowheart leaned over a bit to look at the page, then chuckled. 

“Wow, he really did,” she said in amusement as she leant back. Gale just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Why would psionics or vampirism affect this?” Saff asked. Astarion just shrugged, but Gale considered the question a moment before answering. 

“Because the cure he’s currently considering doesn’t involve actually removing the tadpole, but stopping it from communicating with the hivemind to prevent it receiving the order to transform. It involves placing a psychic field around our heads to cut it off from the rest of the colony, and he doesn’t know how that would interact with a githanki’s psionics or a vampire’s compulsion… I suppose he doesn’t know the tadpole has already severed the control your master had over you,” he said, glancing to Astarion. “Though I don’t see why he’d be concerned about anything along those lines with me.” “I think he just hates you, darling,” Astarion offered, and Gale had to regretfully agree. 

By late afternoon they were finally done. Malitas had certainly been thorough, even noting at one point Saff’s mention of ‘True Souls’ and managing to discover their connection to the Cult of the Absolute, which he’d dedicated several pages of the book to. There was a mention of Moonrise Towers, which he’d made a note to say was something to only investigate as a last resort given the severity of the Shadow Curse. That had been one of the last things he’d written before the pages finally turned blank as they reached the end of his research.

Gale leant back in his chair and rubbed his eyes as he finally closed his notebook. 

“So?” Astarion asked hopefully. “Think it could help us?” 

“Hmmm…” Gale murmured, massaging his temples. “I have to admit… this research is thorough. Any approach that occurred to me also occurred to him, and he’s already researched and exhausted it. Most of what’s halting his progress at the moment is the same unanswered questions we have, mainly around the dream visitor and the artefact. The solution he currently proposes could work in theory, but there’s too many unknowns to consider it safe. Not to mention how incredibly difficult this spell would be to cast,” he said, picking up a sheet of his notes and looking at it. “Even before the orb and the tadpole, this would have been at the limit of my abilities. Theory is one thing, but finding someone who could actually cast this is quite another matter.” 

“You think he couldn’t cast it?” Saff asked in surprise. Gale glanced at her for a moment, considering his answer. 

“Given what you’ve previously told me about his spell crafting abilities - no, I don’t think he could,” he replied. It took a moment for her to realise what he was referring to - the illusion spell to hide her scar. He’d mentioned at the time he thought it was a poorly written spell, more complicated than it needed to be. Clearly he’d taken that as an indication of Malitas’s skills. 

“So even if it would work he wouldn’t be able to cast it on us??” Astarion asked in annoyance. “Well, wonderful. This whole thing has been a complete waste of time.” 

“You must know someone who would be able to cast this, Gale?” Halsin asked, knowing that as archmage he would have powerful connections, just as Haslin himself did in the druid community as First Druid. 

“Back home, perhaps… but we’re a long way from Waterdeep,” he answered with a sigh. There was a moment of quiet despondency among the group. 

“Pity,” Astarion muttered, “I was looking forward to seeing the look on his face when we told him we’d figured out what he couldn’t.” 

“Me too,” Shadowheart agreed. “He needs to be bought down a peg or two.” 

“Give me a bit more time to mull it over,” Gale said, glancing at his notes again. “I may be able to figure something out.” 

“Well be quick about it, I’m sure he’ll be back demanding his book back before long,” Shadowheart warned. 

A chill went down Saff’s spine at her words, the thought of Malitas returning in anger momentarily bringing back the fear he’d instilled in her before, gripping her heart and making her freeze up. She tried to push it from her mind, telling herself it was nothing to dwell on. 

“Saff?” 

She looked up at Gale as he said her name, and saw the others all looking at her either in concern or confusion. “Are you ok?” 

Suddenly she realised she hadn’t been as subtle about that as she’d thought… or maybe they’d felt it through the tadpole. 

“Oh, yes! I’m fine, it’s nothing,” she said quickly. There wasn’t a single one of them that looked even remotely convinced. 

“Darling, remember what I said about you needing lessons in lying?” Astarion said. 

She sighed and buried her head in her hands, realising she’d have to tell them all. 

“I… it’s nothing really, I just…” she stuttered, looking away in embarrassment. “Well… last time he was here, just before he left, I… I don’t know, I just felt suddenly terrified of him. I can’t explain it. He just looked at me and… I couldn’t even breathe…” 

There was a moment of surprise across the group, til she felt Gale gently rest his hand on her knee under the table. 

“Saff…” he said quietly, but she turned back to him before he could say anything more. 

“It’s not what you think,” she said quickly. She knew exactly what he was thinking - that Malitas had reminded her of Aryn in that moment. She knew this because the thought had occurred to her as well, but she’d been there before, reminded of that moment and suddenly lost in a flashback, and every time she knew that was what was happening. Every time it was undeniable, as if she was back there in that house, the same fears coursing through her. She didn’t get that this time. There was no reminder of Aryn… there was just Malitas. 

“Trust me. I know,” she said confidently to him, almost a whisper, though she knew the others could hear. Gale trusted her judgement of course, but, he wondered, if it wasn’t that, what was it? 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Shadowheart started as she looked at the two of them, “but if I had to hazard a guess as to what happened, I’d say that sounds like a Fear spell.” 

They both looked at her in surprise, Saff in particular. “What?? But… why would he cast Fear on me?” she asked in disbelief. 

“To condition you,” Shadowheart answered casually. “He wants you to do everything he says, so when you disobey him, he punishes you. Of course he does it without you realising, so you don’t blame him and leave. As time goes on, you slowly become more compliant and obedient. A fairly basic technique for those experienced in manipulation… and he strikes me as just such a person.” 

Saff’s eyes widened. She didn’t believe it… she couldn’t believe it, and she wasn’t the only one. 

“That’s a hefty accusation to lay on someone with no evidence,” Halsin objected, but Shadowheart just shrugged. 

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d met him. But we can get evidence if you prefer.” 

“What?” Saff looked at her in surprise. “How?” 

“Zone of Truth. Next time he comes to visit, I’ll cast it around him and we’ll see what he has to say for himself. If he tries to lie or avoids the question, we’ll have our answer.” 

That was the plan they agreed on before setting off to their own tasks. Gale remained with the research, trying to think of any approach to the problem that Malitas hadn’t already accounted for, though he was distracted by his concern for Saff. She’d shut herself in her tent, saying she needed some time alone. As the hours ticked by he began to understand how worried she must have been about him the previous night. 

Eventually he decided there was nothing more he could do with Malitas’s research and admitted defeat, deciding instead it had been long enough and was about time he checked on Saff. He headed over to her tent and leant down slightly at the door. 

“Saff?” 

There was a pause, then the sound of movement, before the flap opened. She looked up at him, her eyes a tell-tale red that made his heart ache for her. 

“Can I come in?” he asked softly. She nodded and shifted back, giving him space to enter. He kicked his shoes off and headed in, closing the flap before sitting down next to her. 

Much like Saff last night, this was his first time properly entering her tent, save the time he’d sat next to her while Astarion fed. In the darkness he hadn’t managed to get a proper look, but now he could see it in all its glory. The fabric was a light orange, which made sitting in the tent feel like sitting in a ray of sunlight. She’d hung plants and sun catchers from the roof, which glinted in the thin rays of light that shone through the edges of the door. More plants lined the edges, along with a small handful of books, candles and even a toy owlbear she’d found on their travels. Blankets were piled up on the ground, creating a soft floor as he sat down. It was beautiful, but sadly now was not the time to admire it. 

He shifted next to her and put his arm round her shoulders as she leant into him. 

“Do you think Shadowheart’s right?” she asked quietly. “Could Malitas really be doing that?”

“I’ll be honest, despite all his flaws, I still would never have thought he’d be doing something like that to you. But… I’ll admit, it would make a lot of things make sense.”

He felt her tense up in his arms, and though he hated seeing her feel this way, it was a conversation that had to be had if Shadowheart’s accusation was true.

“Have you ever noticed anything else like that? Strange reactions when you did something he disapproved of?”

“No,” she said quietly with a shake of her head. “I’ve been trying to remember if anything like that had happened before, but I couldn’t think of anything. Though I’ve never really disobeyed him before… I always trusted his judgement…” 

She looked down and went quiet, struggling to hold back tears at the thought of being betrayed by someone she trusted so dearly again. Was her judgement of character really so poor? 

Gale took her hand in his, trying to get her attention away from the spiralling thoughts he could tell she was having. 

“Saff,” he said softly, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. “Whatever the answer may end up being, I will be here for you - just as you were for me,” he promised, giving her hand a loving and grateful squeeze. 

She managed a smile at his words. The whole situation still terrified her, but with him there, she felt she had the strength to face it. 

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, leaning once more into his embrace. 

That evening, once the others returned Shadowheart filled them in on the plan. They’d been shocked to hear her theory, though agreed that it seemed the most likely explanation. As the sun hung low in the sky the group readied themselves, even preparing their weapons in case things were to turn ugly. 

Saff nervously fiddled with the stone in her hands as Shadowheart prepared her spell, feeling her stomach churn with anxiety. Gale stood next to her with his hand on her shoulder as Tara brushed up against her leg and looked up at her in support. Soon Shadowheart looked at them and nodded that she was ready. 

This was it. 

Saff took a deep breath and activated the stone. It glowed as she mentally sent a message that they were done with the research and he was to come collect it. Sure enough, within moments she received a message back that he was on his way. A familiar portal appeared next to her as the stone sparked and she quickly moved to the side with Gale as Shadowheart cast her spell, illuminating a ring of magic on the ground that the others made sure to stay outside of. 

Malitas stepped through the portal, which disappeared behind him, and immediately noticed the spell. He looked down in confusion, his eyes tracing the glowing circle around him. 

“A Zone of Truth?” he asked, frowning as he looked up at them. “What is the meaning of this?” 

Shadowheart stepped forward, her hands glowing slightly as she concentrated on her magic, a smile appearing on her lips as she felt the spell take hold of him. 

“Evening, Malitas,” she said, standing on the edge of the circle. “We’ve got some questions for you.”

[seahagart]

Okay okay okay!!!

Drífa asks!!!

What did she think about Auntie Ethel?

Did she save the Zhenterim traders and help deliver the package?

How did she recruite Karlach and how did she difuse the situation between Wyll and Karlach?!?

Does she prefer hot foods or warm foods?

How much does she weigh???

Can other people draw Drífa?!? And post it with credit of course!!

Fave animal?!?

Biggest fear??

What does her dream visitor look like?!?!

Can we draw her interacting with other Tavs?!?!

Does she have any missing teeth??

What companion does she get on with the least?

Whats her opinions on marriage??

And finally and personally for me most importantly: if she was an animal, which would it be and why?

Thank you~♡

Oh my goodness! Thank you!!!

What did she think about Auntie Ethel?

I think she is a bit superstitious, doesn't trust her, but also is of the mindset that 'you made a deal with a hag, what did you expect?'. She is distrustful for things that are 'too good to be true'. She likes elderly women, so she probably liked her until it was put together she's a hag and then was weary.

Did she save the Zhenterim traders and help deliver the package?

She probably saved them, and then that was about the amount of interest she has, money doesn't really do it for her. She probably doesn't even remember that.

How did she recruite Karlach and how did she difuse the situation between Wyll and Karlach?!?

She saw a big lady on fire and was like 'wow... that is so crazy... ok anyway-' then once talking to her, probably likes her and notices her strength. Drífa was like 'Karlach, you only one that not small or fragile like others...' and recruited her. Then to diffuse the situation is like 'idk karlach seem pretty cool lady, seems like she's right' Drifa likes Karlach

Does she prefer hot foods or warm foods?

I doubt she could handle anything particularly spicy, but she likes warm meals.

How much does she weigh???

Probably like 500+ lbs, she's 8ft tall

Can other people draw Drífa?!? And post it with credit of course!!

Absolutely! I would be honored and want to see it!!!

Fave animal?!?

Bears. I think she relates to bears, especially polar bears, and sees herself as one. Solitary, only coming into contact with other in times of conflict or to mate. She believes herself destined to be alone, secluded, isolated, it is her purpose... not that she doesn't feel alone. She raises her 'cub' alone like bears do. I think she probably has a kinship while a female bear in the area who she used to want to kill but eventually it's more of a 'that bitch over there' with more respect. 'That bitch over there' eats the animals out of her traps, and takes her food, so she gets kinda heated and curses them out a lot.

I think she also like foxes and enjoys watching them, and birds, listening to their songs.

Biggest fear??

Losing her kid, which already happened. Her biggest fear was not being able to provide/keep her child alive, and then losing them to the wild, which happened (dw he comes back!) so after she experiences that, there really isn't anything she's really afraid afraid of. General fear is just being alone, never leaving the temple and eventually she won't be able to take care of herself. She is fully like 'ya when i get too old I'm going to walk into the woods and thats that' which to her is normal. I think

What does her dream visitor look like?!?!

Like a big mountain man, he kinda looks like pan. A big mountain man is the only person she's ever had intimate contact with, so that'd probably what she defaults to. But she does like people in all varieties :)

Can we draw her interacting with other Tavs?!?!

Yes Please!!! i love seeing her with other tavs! They can be friends, you can ship them, idc, I wanna see!

Does she have any missing teeth??

Probably, she's broken her tusks which grew back and are short because she uses them like a wild animal to open things, probably cracked a tooth, gotten a tooth knocked out falling down a mountain.

What companion does she get on with the least?

I think Laezel and even then I think it'd be because everything Laezel says goes over her head. She doesn't really know why she's so mad, or what she's talking about, but eventually I think they would get on well #warrior bond

I think she'd annoy the shit out of Astarion (not on purpose, just the way she is) and she would think he's a lil annoy... eventually though I think he is the first to get her to laugh and by laugh i mean she nods and says 'that was very humor'

Whats her opinions on marriage??

She is aware of marriage, doesn't really have any thoughts on it, doesn't quite get it maybe.... She doesn't have experience with romance, she doesn't really get the idea of loving someone romantically (I think she would feel it, and would do romantic things without thinking about it) I don't think she'd know what it feels like to have love or be loved, the first experience she has is with the people who raised her in the temple, left here there to guard it, never returned, and then her son. She'd need to be taught in the ways of romance, and maybe realize she wants that... I don't think she'd be interested in getting married, but if her partner wants to then sure whatever, she just doesn't have an opinion to it other than being confused why they want to marry her.

And finally and personally for me most importantly: if she was an animal, which would it be and why?

Polar bear hehe :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THESE QUESTIONS!!!

[frownyalfred]

If Bruce’s and Clark’s parents were to watch their children interact from the afterlife, what do you think they’ll be saying?

Honestly, have the Waynes and Els just sit around a giant screen watching their kids interact with each other. They all be having popcorn and discussing their son’s life amongst each other.

Absolutely, anon. Some mixture of disbelief, disappointment, encouragement and hope.

(I did write a similar scene in bloodletting where Clark runs into Thomas Wayne and Jor-El in a vision, which I'm very proud of, so I'm copying it below)

By the small, flickering fire, a second man stood from his chair, folding his arms behind his back. He wore simple robes, almost reminiscent of Jedi garb, if not for the intricate stitching at the collar and sleeves. 

“Took you long enough,” he chided Wayne, eyes flicking between the Mand’alor and Clark, unsure of where to settle, “You don’t have datapads in here.” 

“Would you like some?” Wayne asked, sounding pleasantly surprised, “I thought you would’ve wanted to start with the original manuscripts.” 

With a wave, a stack of datapads appeared on one of the tables, carefully set aside from the dozens of scrolls and documents already laid out. 

“Original?” the man asked, sounding faint, “I…hadn’t realized that’s what they were.” 

Both men paused, as if suddenly realizing Clark was in the room with them. 

"N'jii," Wayne murmured, stepping off to sit at the formal desk in the corner, “We have a visitor.” 

The man by the fireplace smiled at Clark, refolding his arms. 

“Kal,” he said, eyes full of warmth and something Clark couldn’t quite pinpoint, “It’s good to see you.”

Kal. A single syllable, engraved into a datachip tucked into his blankets in his escape pod. A final send-off from parents he’d never met, unearthed by a sympathetic creche-master before it could be hidden away from him like everything else at the Temple. 

Clark froze, knees locking as the name hit him. He glanced at the Mand’alor, but Wayne was in the middle of removing his upper armor, revealing a padded kute underneath. 

“How do you know that name?” Clark asked the man, willing his voice not to shake, “Did the Mand’alor tell you?”

The Mand’alor in question buffed at a scrape on his cuirass, muttering something that sounded a lot like he told me into his beskar. 

“I know it because I was there when it was given,” the man said softly, "Kal-El. You were named by my wife, Lara -- your mother -- under the stars of the Kryptonian system.” 

Clark shuddered, feeling the full name resonate in his bones, deeper than the Force and even the Manda, strong as it was here. 

“You’re my father,” he breathed, raking his eyes over the man’s form, “I--how are you here? What is your name? I’m sorry, I just--”

Gentle hands caught his, steadying them. The man smiled at him, a galaxy’s worth of peace in his eyes. Blue eyes with silver threaded through them -- just like his own, he realized distantly. 

Krypton was a planet built upon touch. Or it had been, at least. Clark looked down at the hands wrapped around his own, trying to breathe past the lump in his throat. 

“I am Jor-El,” the man said, “I don’t know what force has brought me here, but I suspect it has something to do with your…how did you phrase it?”

Wayne looked up at the question, Manda-bright eyes playful. "Ven'riduur," he supplied eagerly. 

“Ven’riduur,” Jor-El repeated, delicately sounding out the Mando'a, “We don’t have a better word in our language, I suppose.” 

“I wasn’t allowed to study it,” Clark said hurriedly, like Jor-El would disappear soon, “Our language. I’m sorry. I tried, but--”

“I know,” Jor-El said, cutting him off with a gentle squeeze, “It was a closed language long before our planet exploded. Krypton’s destruction would have made it nearly impossible to learn, off-world.”

Clark nodded, sagging slightly in his father’s grip. His entire body had relaxed in Jor-El’s hands, muscles instinctively loosening at the close proximity of another Kryptonian. 

(read the full chapter here)

[hyakinthou-naos]

🏛️ A Digital Temple for Hyakinthou Naos 🏛️

Khaire all!

We would like to apologize for the lack of interaction and posting that has taken place over the past couple of weeks - our steward (Farhan Wiles) has recently started new employment and we are still trying to adjust our plans to this new schedule.

With that being said we would like to update our visitors on the current state of our Temple.

We are currently working on creating a digital space for those who wish to e-visit our Temple. While The Temple of Hyacinthus does not have a physical location, we are utilizing the digital building capacities of The Sims 4 to create a visual representation of what we wish our Temple could be.

Additionally, we are playing around with the idea of creating a Discord Server to act as an e-temple space to allow for virtual spaces for prayer, worship, offerings, and ceremonies.

We are also hoping to bring more educational and community based content to this blog in the coming weeks - if you have any specific topics you’d like us to cover please feel free to message us via our AskBox and/or Inbox.

Eirene, peace and farewell.

[zapdos06]

𝑻𝒐𝒑 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒕-𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒆𝒃𝒖: "𝑨 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉"

Cebu, known as the "Queen City of the South," is a beautiful island province in the Philippines that captivates visitors with its mix of rich history, stunning beaches, unique festivals, and vibrant urban culture. Whether you’re an adventure seeker, a history enthusiast, or a beach lover, Cebu has something for everyone. Here’s a comprehensive guide to the best places to visit in Cebu, perfect for travelers looking to experience the island’s diverse attractions.

CEBU TAOIST TEMPLE

The Cebu Taoist Temple is a beautiful and serene destination located in the hills of Beverly Hills Subdivision in Cebu City. Built in 1972 by Cebu’s Chinese community, the temple stands as a symbol of their deep-rooted heritage and spiritual presence in the region. Unlike most temples in the Philippines, the Cebu Taoist Temple is open to visitors of all faiths, offering a welcoming space for those interested in Taoism or simply looking to experience the temple's tranquil environment.

TEMPLE OF LEAH

The Temple of Leah is a grand, Greco-Roman-inspired structure located in the hills of Busay, Cebu City. Built in 2012, the temple was commissioned by Teodorico Adarna as a tribute to his late wife, Leah Villa Albino-Adarna, symbolizing his enduring love and devotion to her. Often referred to as "Cebu's Taj Mahal," the temple has since become a popular tourist attraction due to its unique architecture and romantic backstory.

KAWASAN FALLS

Kawasan Falls is one of Cebu’s most famous natural attractions, located in the lush mountains of Badian, about 130 kilometers south of Cebu City. This stunning waterfall is known for its multi-tiered cascades, with water that appears strikingly turquoise, flowing into natural pools surrounded by lush greenery. The falls consist of three main levels, each with its own scenic pools, and are perfect for swimming, bamboo rafting, and cliff diving.

OSLOB WHALE SHARKS

Oslob, a coastal town in southern Cebu, is renowned worldwide for its unique whale shark-watching experience. Visitors from around the globe come to Oslob to swim and snorkel with these gentle giants, known locally as butanding. Whale sharks, the largest fish in the world, are peaceful creatures and feed on plankton, making them safe to observe up close.

Oslob Municipality is known for its old churches and beautiful beaches, but it has become more popular because of the gentle giants the Whale Sharks. Local fishermen would interact with the whale sharks by feeding them, until many tourists began to arrive in Oslob to see the whale sharks being fed. As a result, these tourists snorkeled or dived with the whale sharks. Oslob Whale Shark watching is one of the top bucket lists of tourists who visit Cebu because of the rare experience. Most noteworthy, whenever you have a close encounter with the Whale Sharks, it is not allowed to touch them.

MAGELLAN’S CROSS

King of Spain Charles 1 chose navigator Ferdinand Magellan to look for the “Spice Islands.” In doing so, Magellan was able to cross the globe and eventually landed in the Philippines in 1521. Specifically, he made his step in Cebu on March 15, 1521.

Magellan’s Cross is one of the most historically significant landmarks in Cebu City and a symbol of the Philippines’ colonial past. Planted by Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan in 1521, the cross commemorates the arrival of Christianity in the Philippines, marking the beginning of Spanish influence in the archipelago. This event is considered a milestone in Philippine history, as it led to widespread conversion and the establishment of Catholicism across the islands.

BASILICA DEL STO. NIÑO

The Basilica Minore del Santo Niño, often simply referred to as the Santo Niño Basilica, is the oldest Roman Catholic church in the Philippines and one of Cebu’s most important religious landmarks. Located in Cebu City, this basilica dates back to 1565 when Spanish explorer Miguel López de Legazpi and his men discovered an image of the Santo Niño (Holy Child) inside a village hut that had survived a fire. This image, believed to be a gift from Ferdinand Magellan to Queen Juana in 1521, is considered miraculous and has since become a revered symbol of faith for Cebuanos and Filipinos.

The basilica is also the heart of the annual Sinulog Festival, held every January, which celebrates the Santo Niño with vibrant street parades, traditional dances, and a solemn procession. This grand festival brings thousands of pilgrims and tourists to Cebu each year, underscoring the deep devotion of the people to the Santo Niño. Visiting the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño offers not only a historical experience but also a spiritual one, making it a must-see for anyone exploring Cebu.

THE HERITAGE OF CEBU MONUMENT

The Heritage of Cebu Monument is a striking landmark located in Cebu City's historic Parian district, depicting key moments and figures in Cebu’s rich history. Built from 1997 to 2000 under the direction of Cebuano artist Eduardo Castrillo, this monument is a detailed, multi-faceted sculpture crafted from concrete, bronze, brass, and steel. It serves as a historical tableau showcasing Cebu’s journey from pre-colonial times through the Spanish and American colonial periods, right up to modern times.

The monument features scenes that include Magellan’s arrival in Cebu, the baptism of Rajah Humabon and Queen Juana, and the Battle of Mactan where native chieftain Lapu-Lapu famously defeated Magellan. It also includes representations of significant structures such as the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño and the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral, blending Cebu’s rich spiritual heritage with its cultural history.

The sculpting began in July 1997 and was completed in December 2000. The features of the monument include Christian conversions, Spanish occupation, battle against foreign colonizer, a prominent Christian figure, and a certain Philippine president.

PESCADOR ISLAND

Pescador Island, located off the coast of Moalboal in Cebu, is a premier destination for diving and snorkeling enthusiasts. This small island is surrounded by vibrant coral reefs, crystal-clear waters, and an abundance of marine life, making it one of the best diving spots in the Philippines. Known for its dramatic underwater cliffs, the Pescador Cathedral, a large, cavernous area that divers can explore, is a particular highlight, offering an unforgettable underwater experience.

Another popular tourist attraction in this location is the Sardine Run. You can swim with millions of Sardines (also known as Herring), which is impressive. Therefore, brace yourself to experience the magnificent beauty of the underwater.

Reference: https://www.travelcebu.ph/blog/cebu-tourist-spots-guide/

[bluemoondemon]

Gonna start filling out character question charts cause there are too many Ruri thoughts in my brain

1. Growing up, Ruri's birthday was always celebrated by going to the moon festival. When he was very little, he thought the festival was his birthday celebration. After becoming a demon, Ruri started celebrating his birthday by watching the sunrise. He's not foolish enough to actually be caught in the direct line of the sun, but will position himself under a window so the rising sunlight comes in above him and hits the opposite wall.

2. Ruri is the most important person in his life. I don't have any other characters aside from his family who could fill that role...

3. On a down day/night, he takes off his Oiran and just wears the Hakama pants. Ruri only has the one style of clothing because it is the most comfortable for him to wear.

4. The temple he lives in was originally fairly run down. It took a while before the villagers went up there and cleaned everything up and fixed it, so it no longer looks abandoned. The ruins of the old Catholic Church and monastery dorms are still present, but in horrible disrepair. The temple itself does not get many visitors outside of New Year's, which suits Ruri very well. The few people who do come by on a regular basis are people complaining about the evil humans in their lives. This is basically a food report for him

5. The kids are his pets, for the short time he has them. Ruri does not dislike animals, but prefers not to keep them around.

6. Alcohol and a good meal raises the spirits

7. Ruri does have frequent depression. He calls them human relapses because they will be accompanied by memories of his parents and uncontrollable crying. The stress associated with being a demon makes him forget these things until it becomes too much then he has a mental break and falls into a depressive episode.

8. Ruri has never seen kabuki theater, but he would love it if he did. A true comedy fan

9. No favorite book for this boy, but he would love romance comedy if he could get his hands on any.

10. Ruri did get along with his parents. He was a mama's boy and a home body, but loved going out on his father's boat when given the chance. Because his parents got along his home life growing up was very nice.

11. I would probably convert Ruri to JJK or MHA universe, mostly because of franchise proximity. Not the biggest fan of either one, but I feel it would make sense for his character.

12. His favorite holiday is the Tsukimi moon festival on August 15th, his birthday

13. There is a mark that will appear and disappear on Ruri's chest. It is a red crescent moon and moonflower, his demon mark.

14. Ruri has never kissed anybody in his life! I cannot yet tell you if that is a lack of trying or just because he's asexual

15. He has loved and lost many people over the course of his life, but most of them have been forgotten.

16. If given three wishes, Ruri's first wish would be to be able to withstand sunlight. His second wish would be the death or destruction of Muzan, and his third wish would be infinite alcohol.

17. If stranded on an island, Ruri he would bring his pipe, his alcohol, his fan, and his hairpin. Whoever's with him is either going to be company or a meal for later.

18. "The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even touched; They must be felt with the heart" Hellen Keller

19. Romance? Honestly, idk. I'd love to start doing RP with Ruri as a character, and involving him with other characters to see if that's even a possibility. Building him by myself I have so little understanding of how he would interact with other people 😓😭

20. Ruri's first language is japanese. He speaks with a Nagasaki accent with a hint of Nanban. He does retain some Dutch, but it only comes out when he's really mad and is borderline unintelligible.

21. His most prized possession is a toss up between the hairpin that used to belong to his mother and his alcohol collection. One of those things is sentimental and the other is just a matter of pride

22. Until becoming a demon, Ruri had never stolen anything in his life. After the fact, he has stolen so many things he's lost count of what was stolen and what was a gift (everything was stolen)

I'll continue to answer more of these questionnaires, but if you have any questions you'd like me to answer, feel free to comment or DM them

[sortofanobsession]

Bright lights and futures (Ted Lasso Fic) RoyJamie Time travel AU Surprise Sequel!

A/N I know I teased this last Saturday have a few other fics that have sequel ideas Early Morning Visitor/Maggie fic & Jamie's Birthday. 😉 A bunch of other promised fics I have been working on too. Let me know which you want to see most of you can.

Reminder! Minors Do No Interact (not super 18+ just the recent YouTube drama has reminded me that it needs to be stated.)

Ch 1 (AO3)

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Pairing: Roy x Jamie (romantic), Keeley x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Colin x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Ted x Jamie/Roy (platonic), Beard Jamie/Roy (platonic), Team x Jamie/Roy (platonic)

Word count: 5k+ (turned into a monster of a sequel 😂)

Content Warnings: canon injury, abuse, past child abuse, past violence, anger, fear, cursing/cussing/swearing

Chapter 2: Never NOT in mind

Roy can tell something is off when Jamie is unusually quiet and subdued as they board the bus. He starts to worry when Jamie sits in the window seat. And Roy sits beside him on the way to Liverpool.

"Talk to me," Roy says quietly once the bus is well on the way. He leans ever so slightly into Jamie's space as he does. "You don't have to right now, but-"

"My dad texted me," Jamie says. He will probably regret it because they are trapped on a bus for the next like 6 hours and this will anger Roy. He just knows it. But he also doesn't like the idea of Roy knowing something is wrong and just letting Roy worry the whole time. Jamie doesn't want that. Roy has been a fucking rock for him since they saw the future. A future that he knows is gone now. But were they supposed to change it? Because the bauble hadn't glowed since. Was it some sort of destiny that he was to find that bauble and change things? Sometimes Jamie's head hurts just thinking about it all. Was it all a change for the better? His thoughts are interrupted by Roy's hand on his knee.

"Hey," Roy says. "What did he say?"

Right, his dad. They were talking about his dad. Jamie nods and gets out his phone. He opens the message and hands his phone to Roy. Roy has to remind himself that James Tartt is not there. That James Tartt can't get to Jamie if they don't let him.

He hands the phone back to Jamie.

"Be right back," Roy gets up. He catches Beard's attention before he reaches him.

"Hey, Coach," Roy says as he crouches beside him, ignoring the discomfort in his knee. He'd endure much worse for Jamie if needed. This was nothing. "Anyway we can make sure Jamie's dad can't get anywhere near the hotel? Because the stadium already knows. Welton and Pep got that out to the right people."

"You got a specific reason or is it just a bad feeling being closer to Manchester?"

"About every threat a person can fit into a handful of texts dated this morning says it is going to be a shit show if we don't do something. And-"

"If you see him, you'll probably catch a charge for manslaughter," Beard states.

"Manslaughter?"

"Oh yeah, sure we could get charges lowered, if not dropped because it's a clear pattern of behavior and he is dumb enough to put actual threats in text. But you'd miss the game, Jamie too most likely. So I'll see what we can do."

"Thanks, Coach," Roy says going back to his seat. Jamie looks at him, confused.

"Beard's going to see about getting your father barred from the hotel."

"Oh, okay," Jamie says.

"If he shows up, you leave him to me, yeah?"

"And let him hurt you, no. He's-"

"I don't care if he hits me. He'll get one hit, then I will end him."

"And then you get arrested," Jamie states. "No, it's not worth it. He isn't worth it. I'm-"

Roy growls. A few of the other players look over at them. Colin is a few rows away and gets up to approach them, but Roy gestures for him to stay put. And Colin obeys.

"The voice in here," Roy taps Jamie's temple. "That says you aren't worth it, it's just your old man's shit. And it's wrong. Ask anyone here. They'd be right there with me because you're one of us. Your father is a right prick and knows he's nothing without you. You are the only thing he has ever done right, and he still fucked that up. You are who you are because of your mum and your own hard work. He has nothing. He is nothing. You are Jamie fucking Tartt. And you are one of the best strikers in the league and only getting better now that you're on the right team. He is an old drunk tosser that your mum was right to give the boot. She and you deserved better. Still do. So I will fucking tell you every day that you are fucking worth it and he deserves to be locked up."

"You always manage to say the sweetest thing in the most terrifying way possible. Kinda hot."

"Almost makes you regret promising these idiots we'd behave."

"Fuck it," Jamie grins and pulls Roy in for a kiss. Earning a wolf whistle from someone.

"Alright, you two, save it for the hotel," Ted hollers. "Keep it professional, or we'll separate you."

"Ooooooooo," most of the team teases like children. Jamie laughs and Roy grunts, but they settle in for the long ride. Roy knows Jamie hates sitting for that long so he does his best to keep his mind busy. Halfway through the trip, Jamie looks up at Roy. They had swapped seats, and Roy's bad knee was over Jamie's lap. Jamie's fingers working at the sore joint. It was something that had helped Roy be able to manage the longer trips with less pain, and it gave Jamie something to do with his hands. "Do you think we were supposed to change our futures? And that's why we went through what we did?" Jamie asks, and Roy sighs. He doesn't blame Jamie for not being able to stop thinking about it. They had discussed what happened more than a few times, but it was something Jamie could never seem to stop thinking about. Sometimes they told others. Colin and Keeley had doubted them at first but the fact that their attitudes and behaviors changed so drastically in a literal flash did lend credence to the idea. Jamie had told Keeley about everything. He told Dani, too, but Dani hadn't doubted the story at all. Roy had told Colin and Issac because he just needed to tell someone who wasn't a 6-year-old child that asks a million questions. Colin was easily becoming one of the people he trusted most. And with Colin, comes Isaac. Neither had called him crazy. Roy found it amusing that Jamie's old lackeys were now Roy's closest mates, other than Jamie, on the team. Jamie still had Jeff. Jeff was a good friend. Even Roy could see that. But Jamie had drifted towards Dani Rojas. Which made sense. Rojas was like the sun. Bright, warm, and people sort of gravitated to him. Jamie needed more happiness. So Roy was glad the happy-go-lucky guy was there. Even if his overly cheery mood often clashed with Roy's. What Roy was most proud to see Jamie change was his relationship with Sam. Jamie had been attempting to make amends with Sam. And it seemed to be working. Sam may not have understood what changed that day in the locker room, but he agreed that it had changed both Jamie and Roy. Both for the better. Sam had told Roy that if Roy said Jamie had changed, then Sam would believe it. Sam trusted Roy. Sam was a bit surprised when Roy told him he was proud of him and grateful for the trust he had in him. Even Ted had found that amazing. But no one was happier that Sam had accepted it all than Jamie. Jamie was happy to have the chance to have the friendship like he'd seen the future versions of them to have. Even if it would be different because they were changing things already. Jamie spent most of the time he didn't spend with Roy or Keeley with Dani and Sam. And Roy knew things were going well for the morale of the team. Between Jamie and Dani, the positive energy in the team was a boost. Having Jamie as a uniting force, as opposed to a dividing one, was literally a game changer.

Beard pulled through and the hotel assures them that all security had been alerted and that James Tartt should not be a problem. Their comfort had been the hotel's priority. And Jamie hadn't realized how much a weight was actually lifted off his shoulders by having Roy and the coaches know the truth.

The moment he door closed to their shared room Jamie kissed Roy like his life depended on it.

"Fuck," Roy chuckled when they broke for air. The look of awe in Jamie's eyes did funny things to Roy. "Been fucking fighting that one have you?"

Jamie smiles. "You don't know how much it means to not have to worry about-" Roy cuts him off because he doesn't want to talk about Jamie's fucking father. He just spent over 6 hours with his boyfriend half in his lap and vice versa. He glances at the clock. They had a bit of time before they needed to meet with the team. And Ted had told them to save it for the hotel. They may have been the last to join the team for movie night, but they kept it relatively appropriate and pda free. That was always going to be a difficult task since Jamie loved to push buttons and boundaries. Jamie was always a cheeky prick. It only got worse when his heart got involved. They were the last again before heading to the match the next day but they still made it on time.

The match went well and even the team could appreciate how Jamie had brought the lighter side out of Roy. Though the pair did disappear from the celebration before anyone else, but no one really blames them. Most of the team just tried not to think too much about it. They were just happy their teammates were happy.

The team was doing better, but relegation was still on the table. They still had a lot of work to do.

"It wasn't over until it was over," Ted told them. "Which means we still had time to show the world what you all are made of."

The game was tied, and all they had to do was keep it that way. Jamie was going to do everything he could to get them the advantage. He was halfway across the pitch, keeping track of the ball and looking for possible advantages. He didn't have time to step in as Roy went on the defensive more aggressive than usual. Roy was taking the chance of relegation seriously. They all were, but even as the captain, Roy was pushing it. And when Jamie realized what Roy was doing the striker's stomach turned. He ran towards him but was blocked by one of City's defenders, and Jamie almost threw a punch. But he didn't get the chance because the play was over and Roy wasn't getting up. He ran towards him only to be stopped by Colin.

"Get the fuck off me!" Jamie tried to shove him off. His eyes have barely left Roy. Jeff had come over to help Colin.

"If you go over there, one of two things will happen: you'll end up in an argument with someone and get carded," and Colin leans closer to limit the risk of anyone hearing him. "Or you'll be so focused on Roy that you risk outing both of you. Let the others handle it."

Jamie wants to put up a fight. Wants to shove Colin and fight anyone else that might stop him. It pains him as he watches the others get Roy up and it's a struggle to watch him limp away.

"Colin, please," Jamie says, and when Colin looks up at Roy, Roy looks back at him and just nods. Colin lets him go, and Jamie meets Roy on the sidelines as he hands the captain band to Isaac, much to Isaac's shock, but it was an easy choice, having seen Isaac as captain in the future.

"Are you-" Jamie starts to ask, but Roy cuts him.

"Don't fucking waste it, got it, Tartt?"

"What? I mean-"

"Finish the fucking match," Roy tells him.

"Roy," Jamie says, but Roy is already being taken to the locker room by the medics.

"You heard the man," Ted says.

Jamie doesn't hold back once back in the game. Get yellow carded and nearly gets into it with the ref over a call but Sam and Dani manage to reign him in. Colin and Isaac handle the rest. Jamie ends up setting up a shot for Dani that ends up beautiful with the ball in the back of the net. And their defenders keep the lead for a win. They get to stay in the league. But Jamie doesn't stay to celebrate longer than needed. He shakes hands with his old team. Some of them were actually happy Jamie was thriving in Richmond. But he was the first off the pitch as he rushed to the locker room. His heart sank when Roy wasn't there. He went over to his cubby and checked his phone. He has a text from Keeley telling him she took Roy home. And that worried Jamie. He hurried to change out of his kit, and didn't even bother showering. He was half-changed when the coaches came in.

"Hey, Coach?" Jamie says, and Ted comes over.

"Rushing off to check on Roy?" Ted asks.

"If that's-"

"Sure, yeah, just let me know how he's doing when you get there."

"Yeah, sure, Coach."

"You did good, Jamie," Ted tells him. "That last goal you set up for Dani was amazing. I may not fully understand what you guys went through with that rock thing, but you played better than I ever expected. Well done, Jamie."

Jamie smiles at him. "Thanks, Coach."

"Tell Roy I'll check in with him tomorrow."

"Yeah, I will."

Jamie finishes getting changed and grabs his stuff. He sends Keeley and Roy a text to let them know he is leaving. He just has to run by his place first.

Roy gets a bad feeling in his gut when almost an hour goes by, and neither he nor Keeley can get a hold of Jamie. Keeley had already checked with the team and confirmed he left. Keeley was just about to call Ted when there was a knock at Roy's door. His bad feeling only grew when Keeley gasped. And despite how fucked Roy's knee was, he goes to see what was happening.

"I swear, Keels, it looks worse than it feels."

And before he even sees him, he knows Jamie isn't alright. Jamie pulls away from the hug he was giving Keeley.

"I doubt that very much," Keeley says. And that's when Roy gets a good look at Jamie, and the pain in his knee is nothing compared to the rage in his heart. He isn't even sure Jamie knows he's there because one of his eyes is swollen shut. And he is covered in newly formed cuts and bruises.

"What the fuck happened?" Roy asks.

"You should probably not be up and-" Jamie starts to deflect, but Roy isn't having it.

"Fuck off," Roy snaps. "Tell me what-"

"Roy!" Keeley glares at him. He glares right back. "Both of you go sit, and I will get Jamie some ice, and then you can yell."

Roy isn't happy about it, but he doesn't argue. Especially not when Jamie gets close enough that he can actually assess the damage.

"Who do I need to kill?" Roy says.

"Come on," Jamie says and moves to help Roy more easily limp his way back to the living room.

"Not hiding some cracked ribs or some shit, are you?" Roy asks as he avoids putting too much weight on him because he still has no idea what happened, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt Jamie.

"Nah," Jamie assures him, but the next words out of his mouth are anything but reassuring. "Bug just thought my face deserved to get acquainted with the hood of my car."

"I am going to kill him," Roy growls. "You fucking father too. The whole fucking lot."

"You aren't killing anyone on that knee," Keeley says as she joins them. She sets down a bottle of water and grabs the bottle of painkillers that Roy had out beside it. Once they both sit on the couch, she hands Jamie an ice pack for his face.

"What happened, babe?" She asks.

Jamie tells them that his dad and his mates caught a ride with some lads from the pub that had gone to the match. Of course, they weren't allowed anywhere near the dog track. But they weren't going to miss an opportunity to make Jamie regret telling anyone. They had always promised him that they would make his life miserable. Thankfully, one of Jamie's neighbors had come out to congratulate him on the match and ended up calling the police. Which meant James and his cronies took off.

"Could have been worse," Jamie assures them.

"You could be dead," Keeley states.

"Maybe, but I'm not. I should have sent you a text and let you know, but I got done with the cops and the medics and just wanted to get here."

"Did they find your dad?" Keeley asks.

"No," Jamie says as he readjusts the ice pack and leans back now that he is done with the story. He looks over at Roy, who hasn't really said much. And it doesn't bode well that his hands are balled into fists.

"You okay, Roy?"

"No, I am not fucking okay," Roy says. Jamie can tell he is trying to keep his voice down because Jamie's head is killing him. "You fucking father would have killed you if your neighbor hadn't shown up. And you are fucking apologizing to us."

"Can you give us a minute, Keeley?" Jamie asks.

"Sure, babe. I should probably call Ted and Rebecca. Let them know. I'll be in the kitchen." She squeezes his shoulder as she passes.

"Thanks, Keels," he says.

"I should have known he'd fucking try something," Roy grumbles. "Should have fucking been there."

"You can't be everywhere, Roy. Was bound to happen."

"Wouldn't have happened if I had-"

"You have your own shit to deal with," Jamie says, cutting him off. "How bad is it?" He gestures to Roy's knee.

"It's fucked, but I'll live," Roy says. "You almost didn't. So don't change the fucking subject."

"The police will handle it," Jamie assures him. "Them and the medics would have insisted I go to A&E if it was too bad. So the fact I'm here means that it's fine. Now tell me what the med team said about your knee."

"They said it's fucked. I'm done. Are they going to actually fucking charge him this time or what?"

"Yeah, since they have a witness and a report," Jamie says as he sets the ice pack down so he can actually look at Roy. "But fuck, Roy. You're-"

"Fuck off," Roy says, but the harsh edge of his words is undermined by the way Roy reaches over and puts the ice back on Jamie's face. "My knee has been fucked for a while and this was long fucking overdue. You tell me I'm too fucking old for this all the time. Bout fucking time I listened."

"You know that's not what I meant," Jamie says. And Roy is more worried about how hard Jamie hit his head for him not to have a smartass retort. "I never wanted- not even when I thought you hated me."

Roy tosses the ice pack away and gently grips Jamie's face. "Hey," Roy starts. "Fuck off with that shit. I know you were just being a prick. Didn't fucking mean it. Just trying to say it could be fucking worse because you could be dead, and that's a lot more fucking terrifying than never playing again. Because I can live with retirement, just not if you aren't part of it."

"Wow, that is probably the sweetest thing you've ever said," Jamie says.

Roy rolls his eyes, but Jamie can't resist. He leans in, and despite his anger and annoyance, Roy meets him halfway and kisses him. He kisses him again because he had a shitty fucking day, and Jamie could have died.

"I should have stayed. I didn't want to deal the the fucking team looking at me with fucking pity. I know it's over for me. And that takes some getting used to, but I should have stayed, and that fucking bastard never would have had the chance. You wouldn't be-"

Jamie cuts him off with a kiss because he fucking loves this man. Roy was probably having the worst day of his life, and all he could think about was Jamie's well-being. His childhood hero didn't seem to care his own career was over. It dawns on Jamie that it's because Roy knew this was coming. They had seen it, not this exactly, but they had known it was going to happen sooner rather than later. Roy knew what was going to happen by a certain date. Roy knew he'd have a place at Richmond still. Roy also knew that Jamie would fucking thrive at Richmond even without Roy on the team. He knew they would be alright and that they'd be together. And Jamie just wants to crawl in Roy's lap and stay there because fucking hell he adores this man.

"Nothing to do about it now," Jamie says.

"I can fucking kill him," Roy says.

"No, you can't!" Keeley shouts from the hall. "So just shut up, tell him you love him and go the hell to bed!"

"Fuck off! This is my house!" Roy shouts back.

"Make me, I dare ya," Keeley challenges.

"Don't fucking tempt me, Jones!"

Jamie chuckles.

"You find this fucking hilarious, don't you?" Roy says to Jamie, but the way Roy's lip twitches at the corner betrays him. Roy can't really help it. Jamie's laugh, even just a chuckle, does stupid fucking things to him. And the fact Jamie is safe in Roy's home, tucked into Roy's side, laughing and smiling despite half his face a bruised and bloody mess, makes Roy feel things he never thought he would. Absolute love and adoration for Jamie fucking Tartt. Keeley might have a point.

"What do you say?" Roy asks and gets a confused look from Jamie. And Roy smiles. "You look fucking knackered."

"Says you, old man," Jamie counters, and Roy huffs a laugh because there's the classic Jamie Tartt retort.

"You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours, Tartt."

"Why? What's it gonna do?" Jamie says. "What you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, I'm going to fucking-"

"You two are ridiculous," Keeley says. Jamie jumps because he hadn't realized she was back in the room, and Roy winces as it jostles his knee. Jamie curses, but before he can fuss, Roy stops him.

"Fucking quit that," Roy insists.

"Sorry, babes," Keeley says as she hands a cup of tea to Roy and sets another down for Jamie because he is too busy focusing on Roy.

Roy waves her off as he accepts the drink. "It's fucking fine. Cheers." He takes a drink and nods. Jamie watches him carefully before he looks back at Keeley. She nods at his cup.

He thanks her and is reminded why he still cares so much for her because she remembers exactly how he likes it. He is so damn lucky to have her as a friend after all the shit he put her through.

"Oi, stop that," Keeley says as she playfully shoves his knee, but not enough that it would jostle Roy's busted-up one.

"What?" Jamie blinks at her.

"I know that look," she says. "You know that look?" She asks Roy. Roy grunts but nods. And Jamie can see the way Roy's brows have furrowed.

"Whatever your fucking worrying about, fucking quit it," Roy says.

"Exactly," Keeley agrees. "You've had a long day. So drink your tea."

"Fucking right," Roy says.

"And you," Keeley looks at him.

"The fuck did I do?" Roy glares at her.

"For starters, you're both idiots," she says. "And you both reek. And I know this one," she nudges Jamie, "hates showering alone, so for my sanity, I'm going to head out." She gets up to leave.

"Wait!" Jamie says, setting his tea down and getting up.

"Yeah?" She stops.

"What did Lasso and Welton say?" Roy asks.

"To call them tomorrow, they will handle the press for now. And you two stay here together because it is safer that way until they catch them."

Roy nods.

"Am I good to go?" She asks.

Jamie hesitates, and Roy gives him an odd look.

"Jamie?" Keeley prompts. Jamie goes over and gives her a hug.

"Thanks for looking out for us," he says to her. "You're the best. We're lucky you put up with us."

Keeley is a bit surprised by it, but she smiles.

"What friends are for, babe," she taps his nose. "Rest up, both of you." She gives a pointed look at Roy. "No murder. You're injured, and your sister will kill you if you do something stupid." She turns back to Jamie and pats his unmarred cheek. "You be good, yeah? Behave."

"He's not a dog," Roy states. Jamie's heart flutters at how quick Roy is to defend him. Even though he knows Keeley doesn't mean anything bad. She just knows Jamie isn't always one to think before he acts, especially when it comes to Roy fucking Kent.

Keeley rolls her eyes.

"Don't be jealous, tough guy," Keeley grins. "We all know he loves you more." She hugs Jamie again. "Text me if you need anything. Later, babes."

Jamie walks her to the door. He notices Roy glaring into his cup of tea as he sits beside him.

"She's just trying to lighten the mood. Just a bit of fun."

"It's fucking fun having your ex-girlfriend having a laugh at you?" Roy asks.

Jamie grins. "She's earned it. I was a fucking prick and treated her-"

"That wasn't fucking you, Jamie. Not the real you. That was who you thought you needed to be because of the same fucking bellend that had you faced smashed in." Roy says as he reaches over and brushes his fingers along the edges of the bruises on Jamie's face.

"Pity that, yeah? Probably a sorry sight to look at, innit?"

"Fuck off," Roy shifts his grip to the side of Jamie's neck. "Could still fucking stare at you all fucking day. Changes nothing. Still you." He presses down every so slightly to emphasize his point. "Fucking lucky I still get to see you after what that fucking prick did. Never again. I'll drive you to and from training. Everywhere else if I need to."

"You can't be with me every second of every day, Roy," Jamie sighs. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him as he rubs his eyes. "We've been over this. Your family needs you."

Roy realizes something as he sits there with a battered and exhausted Jamie sitting on his couch, half tucked into his side. There is nowhere else he would rather be. He would take painfully sitting on the couch with Jamie in his arms over damn near anything. It had been fucking miserable waiting for him when both Roy and Keeley knew he should have been there already. Not knowing where Jamie was or if he was okay was fucking awful. All because Jamie had to run by his flat first. And now Jamie's trying to put Roy's family before himself despite the fact that Roy needs him just as much, if not more, than his niece and sister. He loves them with all his heart, but he loves Jamie Tartt with everything he has. Jamie is his family now.

"Fuck off," Roy says, earning a chuckle from Jamie. "Like you're not family." And that stuns Jamie. Jamie's hand that had been absentmindedly rubbing Roy's good knee stops. And Roy wonders if he shouldn't have said that. Sure, they had sort of labeled what they were. They were together, exclusively so, but not publicly. Jamie still had plenty of doubt that Roy would actually want to stay with him in the long run despite having seen the future. He had his doubts because that wasn't their future anymore. Things had changed. They had changed.

"Hey," Roy says, nudging his chin until he looks up at him. "You remember what you saw, Uncle's day, yeah?" Roy asks. Jamie nods as best he can with his face still in Roy's grip. "Good," Roy continues. "Because that's the only family that matters, got it. You, me, the kid, and my sister. Your mum and stepdad, too, I guess, but that's it. Anyone else can fuck right off." His fingers ghost over the edges of Jamie's black eye again. "Especially your old fucking man. He can fucking rot like the rubbish he is for what he's done to you."

Jamie sniffles. He can't help it. Even if his face hurts, he buries it into Roy's shoulder because that's all Jamie has ever actually wanted. He wanted to be wanted. To be loved as much as he loves someone. So he cries, and Roy lets him. It's a bit awkward, and the position is slightly painful as he tries to make it comfortable for Jamie without hurting either of them too much. He plants a kiss on Jamie's messy hair. He doesn't care that Jamie is caked in dried sweat and dirt from the pitch. Roy isn't much better despite washing up a bit when he got home. He had hurt too much before the ice and meds, and he wasn't about to ask Keeley to help him. Nope. That was not an option. He holds Jamie as he cries. Telling him over and over that it's okay and that he is there. Tells him he loves him and that Jamie is fucking perfect. Jamie calms after a few minutes.

"Better?" Roy asks. Jamie nods as best he can from where he is pressed against Roy's chest. "Good." Roy shifts and kisses Jamie's forehead. "But if Keeley texts and finds out we haven't moved, she'll kick both our asses." Jamie huffs a laugh and slowly pulls away. Roy carefully wipes the tears away from Jamie's bruised face. Jamie winces, and Roy pulls away, but Jamie shakes his head.

"Your knee, it's gotta be-"

"No worse than it was before," Roy assures him.

"Probably best to get that shower and go to bed."

Once they are clean and tucked away into Roy's bed, neither of them is able to fall asleep yet because of what happened.

"Move in with me," Roy says. And Jamie wonders if he was asleep in the warmth of Roy's arms. Roy would have wondered if Jamie had heard him in the dark and quiet room if it hadn't been for the way Jamie's hand stopped. Roy had gotten used to the way Jamie's hands always seemed to be moving or searching for warmth along Roy's skin when they were alone. It was surprisingly comforting now that he was used to it. It was a constant reminder that Jamie was there. That it was real. Jamie was not only comfortable but safe and happy. Jamie always pulled away and isolated himself when he was upset.

"What?" Jamie asks.

"Move in with me," Roy repeats.

"Are you asking me because of what happened or…"

"I'm asking you because I sleep like fucking shit when you aren't here. If you'd rather-"

"Yeah, sounds good," Jamie says as he snuggles in closer.

"Yeah?" Roy asks.

"Sure, gonna have to get out of my lease, but it shouldn't be too hard."

[draconscious]

@monterraverde sent: She’s frequented the Blackthorns complex a lot lately- Mainly at Lances behest, for training and meditation, and she’s found herself doing just that once more. Sat outside under a large tree in deep meditation with her Koraidon at her side, both fidgeting. Doesnt seem like its working very well. //Throwing random starters cuz I want them to interact >:T

"You. I've been looking for you."

Rika has just been through hell and back, yet Clair's tone holds no sympathy for the visitor huddled in Blackthorn's secluded garden. Koraidon merely receives an icy glance as the miffed Gym Leader strides right by him, looming over Rika with clenched fists.

Tempestuous. Impulsive. Exhausted.

"Your Garchomp is still lounging near the Den. And now this--" she hisses through clenched teeth, pausing to gesture wildly in Koraidon's general direction, "--whatever this is, out in the open here. The Elders are furious. If those old bags see a non-Dratini dragon within city limits, they panic--and who do you think they blame? I just spent a full eternity getting my head bitten off because of you. Gods. Can you at least try to observe the customs while you're here?"

Deep breaths. The initial spike of anger begins to fade, and Clair's fingers fly to her temples, massaging them in an attempt to finally rein herself back in. If the heiress was less exasperated, perhaps she would have noticed the true extent of Rika's injuries and backed off. Perhaps she would have had more patience and grace reserved for their first-ever meeting together.

Instead, Clair had offered up a full serving of misdirected attitude, ice, and thunderstorms. The dragon's temper, flaring up once again.

[khatushyamblogs]

Plots Sale near Khatu Shyam ji,Rajasthan

Investing in Plots near Khatu Shyam ji, Rajasthan: A Wise Decision

If you're considering investing in real estate, particularly plots of land near Khatu Shyam ji in Rajasthan, you're on the right track. Khatu Shyam ji is a place of great spiritual importance, known for its revered temple dedicated to Lord Krishna. Located in the Sikar district of Rajasthan, this area is not only culturally rich but also offers promising opportunities for property investment.

Why Invest in Plots near Khatu Shyam ji?

Spiritual Significance: Khatu Shyam ji is a popular pilgrimage site, drawing devotees from all over India. The presence of the Khatu Shyam ji temple adds immense spiritual value to the surrounding area, making it a preferred location for those seeking a peaceful and spiritually enriching environment.

Scenic Beauty: Rajasthan is known for its stunning landscapes, and the region near Khatu Shyam ji is no exception. Imagine owning a plot of land surrounded by scenic views of rolling hills, lush greenery, and a serene atmosphere. It's not just an investment; it's a chance to own a piece of natural beauty.

Development Potential: With the increasing popularity of Khatu Shyam ji as a pilgrimage and tourist destination, the region is experiencing significant development. This includes improved infrastructure, better connectivity, and the establishment of amenities such as hotels, restaurants, and recreational facilities. Investing in plots now means benefiting from future growth and appreciation.

Tips for Investing in Plots near Khatu Shyam ji

Research Thoroughly: Before making any investment, conduct comprehensive research on the available plots, local regulations, market trends, and potential for growth. Consider working with a trusted real estate agent or consultant who has experience in the area.

Verify Legal Compliance: Ensure that the plots you're interested in are legally approved and have clear titles. This will prevent any legal complications in the future and safeguard your investment.

Consider Future Plans: Think about your long-term goals for the plot. Are you planning to build a residential plots, a vacation home, or perhaps a commercial establishment? Understanding your objectives will help you choose the right plot that aligns with your vision.

Visit the Location: If possible, visit the area near Khatu Shyam ji in person to get a firsthand experience of the surroundings, accessibility, and amenities available. This will also give you a sense of the local community and culture.

Benefits of Owning Plots near Khatu Shyam ji

Potential for Appreciation: As the region continues to develop and attract more visitors, the value of properties, including plots of land, is likely to appreciate over time. Investing now can yield significant returns in the future.

Flexibility in Usage: Whether you plan to build a personal residence, a rental property, or hold onto the plot for future development, owning land near Khatu Shyam ji provides flexibility in usage according to your needs and preferences.

Cultural Experience: Living or owning property near a place like Khatu Shyam ji allows you to immerse yourself in the rich culture and traditions of Rajasthan. You'll have the opportunity to participate in local festivals, explore historical sites, and interact with the welcoming community.

In conclusion, invest in plots near Khatu Shyam ji, Rajasthan, offers a blend of spiritual fulfillment, natural beauty, and promising investment potential. Whether you're looking for a peaceful retreat or a strategic investment opportunity, the plots in this area have much to offer. Take the leap and secure your piece of paradise near Khatu Shyam ji today!

For more information, Please visit to our website. Address:  Aloda village Tehsil -danta ramgarh Sikar District Rajasthan 331024

URL:  http://www.khatuelegance.com/

Email:  khatuelegance@gmail.com

[wkaustubh]

Singapore's History and Heritage: A Walk Through Time

Nestled at the crossroads of Southeast Asia, Singapore is a city-state with a rich tapestry of history and cultural heritage that dates back centuries. From its humble beginnings as a fishing village to becoming a global economic powerhouse, Singapore has undergone a remarkable transformation. Today, the city-state stands as a testament to the harmonious coexistence of tradition and modernity. While exploring the key milestones that have shaped Singapore's history and heritage, visitors can also indulge in various things to do in Pai and experience the vibrant scene of shopping in Thailand.

Early Days: A Fishing Village to a Trading Hub

Singapore's story begins in the 14th century when it was a mere fishing village known as Temasek. It wasn't until the arrival of Sang Nila Utama, a Sumatran prince, in the 13th century that the island gained prominence. The prince renamed the island "Singapura," which means "Lion City" in Sanskrit after he allegedly spotted a lion on its shores. Although lions never roamed the island, the name stuck, symbolizing strength and courage.

In the 19th century, Singapore's strategic location at the crossroads of major shipping routes attracted the attention of European powers. Sir Stamford Raffles, the founder of modern Singapore, established a British trading post in 1819. This marked the beginning of Singapore's rapid ascent as a crucial trading hub in the region.

Colonial Era and World War II:

Under British colonial rule, Singapore flourished economically, becoming a melting pot of cultures due to its strategic location and open trade policies. However, the prosperity was interrupted during World War II when the Japanese occupied Singapore from 1942 to 1945. The war left an indelible mark on the island, with the Battle of Singapore being a pivotal moment in its history. After the war, Singapore went through a period of recovery and reconstruction.

Independence and Nation-Building:

The desire for self-governance gained momentum in the post-war era, leading to the formation of the People's Action Party (PAP) in 1954. Led by Lee Kuan Yew, the PAP advocated for independence from British rule and social reforms. Singapore achieved self-governance in 1959 and joined the Federation of Malaysia in 1963. However, the union was short-lived, and Singapore gained full independence on August 9, 1965, due to political differences with Malaysia.

Lee Kuan Yew became the first Prime Minister of Singapore and embarked on a nation-building journey characterized by economic development, social cohesion, and multiracial harmony. The transformation was remarkable, turning Singapore from a developing nation into a first-world city-state within a single generation.

Cultural Diversity: Harmony in Diversity

One of the defining features of Singapore is its multicultural society. The island is a mosaic of different ethnicities, including Chinese, Malay, Indian, and various other communities. This diversity is not only evident in the population but also in the architecture, cuisine, and traditions that permeate the city.

Chinatown, Little India, and Kampong Glam are iconic districts that showcase the cultural richness of their respective communities. Visitors can explore the vibrant markets, temples, mosques, and churches, experiencing firsthand the harmonious coexistence of different faiths and traditions. The annual celebrations of festivals such as Chinese New Year, Deepavali, Hari Raya Puasa, and Christmas further highlight the multicultural tapestry of Singapore.

Preserving Heritage: Museums and Historic Sites

To truly understand Singapore's history and heritage, a visit to its museums and historic sites is essential. The National Museum of Singapore provides a comprehensive overview of the island's past through interactive exhibits and artifacts. Fort Canning Park, with its archaeological sites and lush greenery, offers a glimpse into Singapore's colonial history.

Changi Chapel and Museum pay homage to the prisoners of war during World War II, while the Peranakan Museum celebrates the unique Peranakan culture, born from the intermingling of Chinese and Malay influences. These sites not only preserve the historical significance but also serve as educational platforms for future generations.

Modern Singapore: A Global City-State

In the latter half of the 20th century, Singapore transitioned from a trading post to a global economic powerhouse. Its commitment to education, innovation, and infrastructure development propelled the nation into the ranks of the world's most developed countries. The skyline of Singapore reflects its modernity, with iconic structures like the Marina Bay Sands and Gardens by the Bay becoming symbols of the city-state's progress.

Conclusion:

Singapore's history and heritage are intertwined with resilience, diversity, and a forward-looking spirit. As visitors traverse the city-state, they embark on a journey through time, witnessing the transformation from a humble fishing village to a global metropolis. Singapore's ability to preserve its cultural roots while embracing progress serves as an inspiration for nations worldwide. A walk through the Lion City is not just a stroll through its bustling streets but a fascinating exploration of a nation's evolution, where history and heritage seamlessly coalesce.

[kimkiln-teacup]

A Guide To Japanese Tea Ceremony

The term "tea ceremony" (pronounce "sadou") in Japanese refers to a formal method of making and consuming green tea. This is a fundamental aspect of Japanese culture and is well-known not only in Japan but also throughout the rest of the world. In this post, we'll explain the origins of the Japanese tea ceremony and how to hold one properly.

Tea Ceremony History and Background

The first tea seeds were introduced to Japan during the Tang dynasty (China, 618–907), a time of intense diplomatic and cultural interactions between the two countries, and this is where the history of the Japanese tea ritual began. Beginning in the Nara era (710–794), tea plants were first developed. However, only priests and noblemen typically drank tea as a medication.

Myoan Eisai, a priest from Japan, traveled to China in 1187 to research philosophy and religion. Later, he traveled back to Japan and brought some tea seeds for his temple to flourish. He then wrote Kissa Yojoki, a book about the advantages of tea for your health. The book subsequently began to circulate widely, and ever then, tea ceremony has slowly gained popularity among Japanese Zen masters.

The tea ceremony rose to prominence as a representation of Japan's affluent elite in the thirteenth century. Only the ruling class—the samurai class—was in charge of regulating tea ceremony practices. Following then, it gradually gained popularity among the working class, first just among men. Women were not formally permitted to participate in the tea ceremony until the beginning of the Meiji period (1868–1912). Since that time, the tea ceremony has gained popularity as a distinctive aspect of Japanese culture.

How to Organize the Ceremony

Step 1: Hosting Preparation

All of the required items must be ready before the tea ceremony may start. A cup, a wooden tea stirrer, a small tea scoop, and a few other objects make up the chabako, the set of supplies used for the tea ceremony. The host must concentrate especially during this period of preparation to become serene and a source of comfort for the visitors.

Step 2: Guests' Preparations

Everyone must wash their hands before entering the tea room. In addition to ensuring hygiene, this symbolizes washing away all cares to leave the soul pure and prepared for the tea ceremony. The host will invite the visitors inside the tea room once the tea ceremony is ready. In appreciation for the preparations made by the organizer, guests are required to bow.

Step 3: Warm up the tools

All the utensils, including cups and teapots, must be cleaned with hot water before use and dried with a soft, clean cotton towel to maintain cleanliness and keep the tea warm. Every movement made by the host while warming up the apparatus should be graceful and done with dignity.

Step 4: Making Tea

Put the right amount of tea in the cup, add hot water, and stir with a chasen or tea stirrer. To begin, swirl the tea powder into the liquid at the bottom of the cup. Place the teacup on the tatami in front of the visitors when the froth has formed and you have gently stirred the surface of the cup with your hands. Don't forget to face the front of the cup toward the guests.

Step 5: Enjoying the Tea

After being welcomed by the host, the visitor will first grasp the teacup with his right hand and place it in the palm of his left hand before bowing, lifting the cup just a little, and sipping the tea. Do not drink the entire cup of tea at once. It should be consumed in three sips instead. When you have received and sipped all of your tea, you should then bow your head in appreciation. To show respect for the host, remember to point the front of the teacup when returning it.

If you are interested in Japanese tea ceremony culture and Japanese teacups, welcome to visit kimkiln.com. A variety of Chinese and Japanese vintage teacups are available for you to choose from.