Fortune Teller: Adar

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Relationship: f! reader x m! monster (Tabaxi)

[Also I am not familiar with tarot cards and palm readings so I did some research on it and hope it makes some sense.]


The days were hot, days longer and lives lived longer.

Though even with the heat that swelled and radiated through the city of sand, it was known that fortune came to those who sought it.

With destiny that you thought a 'trial' awaited, you needed answers. Needed answers that would fall on false hopes and dreams; for it all to be wafted lies that anyone would have to pay double in seeking.

You did not pay for it luckily, with your parents and their pleas for you to seek 'professional help' in your dilemma, you found it in the eyes of fates, fates that lay within the flick of a card.

Adar was his name. Adar the Sahir. Adar the Seer of Fates. Yet, you had to be the judge of that.

You found his spot in the market easily: situated between the two stone walls of other buildings, his was smaller and made from sticks and heavy cloths, telling you it had been put up with haste and less in need of protection against the elements.

Off to a good start, in thinking this person and their job was real. You sulked, making your way over, ignoring the staring, and the whisperings that came from drawing your name. Many thought of you as odd, leaving you to yourself as they whispered and mocked.

When you stood a few inches from their open entrance, you gave a harsh knock to the wooden panel holding the structure together, and popping their head out was the one you sought that was known as Adar.

The palm reader was that of a Tabaxi, and though you had seen few of them in your lifetime, you had been familiar with them roaming the lands, tending to keep to warmer temperatures, though some preferred the cold.

You were familiar that many were different from one another: ones with dark fur, light fur, ones big and small, stripped or with spots. Though you had never seen one like himself. He looked like a caracal: small and lithe, standing almost an inch taller than you. He's dressed in cooling clothing: an open white blouse, with tailored purple and bold trousers, his long legs wrapped in dark linen that acted as 'shoes' to protect the soles of his paws from the heated cobbles and boiling sands.

"You must be my new customer? I am Adar, a palm and tarot card reader. You are familiar with my work?" You liked his voice immediately: velvety and pleasantly soft, mixed with a sweetened accent.

"That is correct, yes." You awkwardly spoke, he was charming, and the way he looked at you so kindly made your stomach flutter.

"Come, come, you are welcomed inside." You're shuffled inside the small hut with sweeping rugs and colour cloth that was as bright as him and his clothing. When he passed by you, you got a hint of jasmine and plum, a scent sweet that surprised you yet suited him well.

You entered his small hut, a richness of Sandalwood and Patchouli filled your nostrils, candles lit in the unlit room as you followed the Tabaxi to the table in the middle of the room. It was instead an eyesore, an controlled mess. Cards filled the table with crystals of all sorts of colours, mainly amethysts were scattered across his table of all shapes and sizes.

"Excuse the mess," Adar spoke cheerfully, "I need rearranging."

"It is quite alight. My ma is always telling me I must tidy after myself."

"You live with your parents, correct?" He shuffled around the table to sit, you following in the chair opposite him, nearly being engulfed by the plush cushions. "It is not a judgmental question," he eased, "it helps me to know you better and with the cards."

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