azriel x fem reader
Azriel falls in love with a girl who has a cat called Marmalade.
It was odd. The first time he feel for her, he says the first time because it was in many moments when he felt his heart drop. His stomach fall. And his wings flutter. And she was just a girl who worked in a book store, yet she was so much more to him.
He saw you in the garden first, a blue dress on with a white shirt under it. The gardens had been lovely that day and the weather was pleasant enough.
You sat crossed legged on the park bench, a copy of ‘Heidi’ in your lap as your ginger cat Marmlade rubbed against your knee. He had walked up to you, knowing you worked at the book store. He had needed a gift for Rhys’s mother, it was Christmas soon and the endless amount Rhysand’s mother had done for Azriel was heart warming. She deserved a nice gift.
“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt,” he spoke sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting your peace.
“No worries, what can I do for you?” You said, standing up and flattening out your dress as you lead him into the store.
“I need a gift for my friends mum, she’s raised me since I was quite little though and I need it to be a bit thoughtful.”
You smiled, nodding as he spoke, he was thankful for your kind manner it made him feel less like an idiot.
“Does she have any particular interests, or genres you know she likes?”
He nodded, “She loves sewing, and uh- romance I think.”
You nodded before turning around and picking up Marmalade as you led him into the romance section. His eyes flung around the store, noticing the paintings of cherubs with wings on the walls, smiling as he thought of how old the building must be.
“We actually got a book in last week, that I think will be perfect. It’s about a seamstress and a prince, it’s a human setting though, is that okay?” You stuttered the end slightly, knowing some Illyrians were sensitive about humans.
“That’s quite alright, thank you very much for your help,” he noticed a light blush on your cheeks as he thanked you for your service.
The fact that you had to raise your head quite a bit to look up at him, had the butterflies in his stomach fluttering.
“T-that’s what I’m here for, is there anything else you would like? Possibly for yourself,” he could see you playing with your fingers behind your back as you shyly gazed up at him.
“Quite possibly, is there anything about a pretty girl who works in a book store and an Illyrian shadowsinger?”
And to say you blushed would be an understatement.
Azriel came to visit the book store a lot after the first time. He found his visits like a little piece of him that no one had to know about, something that was disconnected from fighting and training.
You’re smile kept drawing him in, the crease in your eyes and your cheeks plumping as you laughed. He didn’t know when he realised that he began to look forward to the visits constantly. He could pin point a few movements. Whilst he was training, the tug in his chest as he thought of you. Family dinners when the conversation was very little, his mind drifting off to think about his next visit. Even when he had just left the store, he longed to go back in and blurt out his feelings.
But it was one visit that he held very close to his heart.
You were having a particularly rough day, a customer had gotten angry at you for not having the book they wanted. You had gotten pushed around on the busy streets of Velaris and worst of all, you didn’t know where Marmalade was.
Marmalade although only a cat, she was your housemate, workmate, child, and your precious little ball of fluff. She was not a cat who wondered very far from her owner and that fact alone made a fresh bubble of panic settle in your ribs. To not be able to find her was absolutely devestating.
Azriel entered the store a smile planted on his handsome face as he slowly made his way to where you stood, shelving books.
He slowly slid his arms around your back, kissing your head as you jumped in surpise.
“Good afternoon, love.”
His actions of affection were not a new thing, he hugged you every time he saw you since that one time you flung his arms around him out of joy.
“Where’s that little bugger of a cat?”
And that was when you lost it, you couldn’t help it as the tears started and didn’t seem to stop. You couldn’t stop the panic and worry you felt over loosing little Marmalade.
Azriel was quick to turn you around, his hands cupping your face as his fingers delicately wiped the tears from your cheeks. He hushed your tears and pulled your head to his chest as he cradled you in his arms.
“What’s the matter, darling?” He murmured quietly, talking in a soothing and calming tone.
“I-I’ve lost Marmalade!” And that was when another round of tears came gushing out.
“Oh, love.” He was quick to pull over a chair and settle you in his lap as he let you blubber about the ginger cat.
“It’ll be alright, you know I’m sure Marmalade will find her way back to you very soon,” he rubbed his hand up and down your back as you nuzzled further into his neck, soft tears dripping onto his shirt.
“B-but what if she’s gotten lost,” you said, voicing your worries.
“Then we will find her, dove, she can’t have gotten very far if you had her this morning.”
You nodded into his neck, thankful for his reassuring words and relaxing touches.
He kissed your head, “Do you want to go look for her?”
So the two of you set out on your journey to find Marmalade. It was cold so both of you had several layers as well as warm coats, gloves and you wore a white beanie.
Azriel made sure you were warm enough before they had left the store, suggesting more and more layers of warmth every time you said you were ready to leave.
You walked hand in hand through the snow as you both cooed the cats name, walking through the streets surrounding the book store eyes scanning for any sign of a ginger cat.
“Marmalade!” You both yelled simultaneously, not letting go of each others hand as you searched.
“I-it’s been an hour, Az, what if she has been stolen?”
He didn’t have the heart to tell you that nobody would want to steal Marmalade as she was not the friendliest cat. He instead tried to pry that thought from your mind as he guided you through the streets.
“That will not have of happened dove,” he said as he pulled you into his side.
“Marmalade!” He called again, hoping some how the cat would come.
And then you saw her.
The little pit pat of Marmalade’s ginger paws scurried along the pavement as a larger brown cat intertwined her tail with his.
“Marmalade! There you are.”
Azriel watched as you ran forward patting and kissing the cat and lightly scolding her as if she were a child who lost their parent in the supermarket.
He caught up to you, kneeling down as he reached to pat the other cat who accompanied Marmalade.
“Who’s your friend Marmalade?” You questioned as you scratched the top of her head.
The two cats nuzzled each other, as the brown cat licked Marmalade’s ear.
“His name is Rufus, and I told him he should’ve stayed at home today, but he had a thing for defying my orders,” Azriel statement with a slight chuckle.
“He’s yours?” You asked, eyes wide with surprise that the cat intertwined with Marmalade belonged to Azriel.
“He is mine, and I’m hoping that you will be too soon.”
And once again, to say you blushed, would be an understatement.
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Ruby bright, blood ran down Rhysand’s neck. A knife that could slice air in the right hand- Cassian had the faraway wisdom to be glad it was Elain holding it, not Nesta to whom the wind would listen, Nesta, who probably would have taken off his damned head.
“Elain,” Feyre sounded like she was choking. “Rhys wasn’t- no one is going to hurt Nesta- what are you doing?”
Elain ignored her, pressed harder, blood welling. Rhysand, frozen in place, wasn’t even looking at her- over her head, to Cassian, as though to ask: why?
Cassian shook his head.
“You’ll get our people out.” Elain was velvet, a High Fae courtier speaking in a human voice.
And Rhys, sky fucking drown him, demurred. Look down her arm, ignored the blade like even bleeding, these women weren’t a threat. “It will take time, to evacuate.”
Nesta laughed, an entirely different sound than before. Storm wild, the sound of it moving up Cassian’s spine like a caress. “You don’t have time. You did this- Feyre didn’t get there on her own.”
Rhysand, who’d lost all ability to back down when he aught sometime in the last fifty years. Rhys, who’d absolutely play chicken with a curse that would destroy him and his- he was probably hoping it would helpfully boil Keir’s blood as it worked its way to him.
“The curse can kill you,” Elain crooned, “Or I can slit your throat and watch the crown pass to Archeron hands. Your choice.”
“A curse,” Feyre whispered, eyes flying between her sisters. “Nesta, please, what is she talking about?”
Lush bravado, Rhysand’s smile. “Always good, to have deadly allies.”
And just like that Elain turned the blade in her hand- starry, gleaming, released Rhysand and handed it bloody to Nesta, handle first.
Even braced for it, Cassian wasn’t prepared. Nesta continued the motion, angry and hectic, his dagger spun sure in her grip, keening to the air.
Did she know she could shape the wind? That Cassian- because Cassian- that the very storm would listen to her, in true need, star steel singing in her hand?
“I don’t understand. What crown? Is this about the Queens? You can pledge for clemency- if you’re really the one running all those trade route, the Lords owe you- they can”-
Steady, deadly, Elain in her lace and silk, the scent of her rage more Lucien’s fire than her own skin, Elain who said, “High Lord, would you like to say it?”
Rhys, Cassian thought it, Cassian roared it in his head, barriers down, walls crumbling- I won’t forgive you- Feyre won’t forgive you- don’t- don’t- don’t-
Rhysands mouth twisted.
“We have a deal, your sisters and I,” He told Feyre, charm laid thick over the grimace. “For the preservation of House Archeron. Isn’t that right, Banfhlaith?”
Nesta bared her teeth.
Like a call and response he couldn’t quite control, Cassian gave into the burning urge to slide closer, to guard even for a second, her back.
He loved his brother. He’d served faithful the Night Court for five centuries- half a millennia and never once, not for a second, anticipated a real future.
What loomed, endless, in the sky of Nesta Archeron’s eyes.
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