((Azriel/ reader) Cassian x Eris )
You were supposed to be resting after getting fever-sick mid-mission. Instead, you’re tucked into an Illyrian tent with Azriel, Cassian, and Eris—three males, one cot, and absolutely zero personal space.
Eris is delighted. Cassian may never recover.
And Azriel? He’s two seconds away from murdering them both and wrapping you in his wings forever.
This is very chaotic, I have no energy to edit again, sorry it's just crack ENJOY
The Illyrian mountains were merciless that night: wind screaming, frost creeping across the canvas, snow hitting in sheets.
Which meant the four of you—Azriel, Cassian, Eris, and you—were forced to share one of the High Lord’s massive field tents.
A single fire. Four bedrolls.
Way too much male energy.
Sweating despite the cold, breathing unevenly against Azriel’s thigh.
Madja’s syrup sloshed inside the little glass now tucked in Azriel’s pack.
“Paradoxical effects,” she’d warned.
“She may become uninhibited.”
“Do not leave her unattended.”
Azriel had nodded calmly.
You blinked awake slowly, eyes glassy, hair sticking to your temples.
Cassian perked up immediately from his seat by the fire.
“Oh good,” he muttered. “She lives.”
Eris lounged on a pile of furs like a bored deity staring down at amusing mortals.
“You look overheated,” he observed.
“I’m full of feelings,” you said gravely.
Azriel sighed softly. “She’s delirious.”
“I’m delirious for all of you,” you clarified.
You pointed lazily at Cassian.
“You’re strong. You could pick me up with one arm.”
Cassian blinked. “Thank you?”
“And you’re pretty. Like… offensively pretty.”
Eris smirked. “I accept this.”
Then you turned to Azriel.
“And you,” you whispered, reaching toward him, “are for kissing.”
Azriel caught your hand mid-air, thumb stroking your fever-warm knuckles.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “you’re overheated. Try to rest.”
“No,” you said. “I want all three of you to stay.”
Cassian dropped a log on his own foot.
Eris made a thoughtful sound.
You pushed up onto your elbows, eyes soft and unfocused.
“You can all share my bed. There’s room if we—”
Azriel slapped his palm across your mouth so fast Cassian yelped.
Eris’s smile turned wicked.
“Oh, this just got interesting.”
Azriel glared at him. “Don’t.”
Cassian wheezed, “Az… she’s—she’s trying to start a foursome—”
You licked Azriel’s hand.
Azriel jerked, losing all composure, letting out a startled laugh—sharp and involuntary.
Eris’s brows hit his hairline.
Azriel looked horrified at himself.
You blinked. “You laugh funny.”
“I—” Azriel rubbed his face, ears reddening. “That was— you surprised me.”
Eris purred, “Ticklish, Shadowsinger?”
Azriel sent a shadow to tug sharply at Eris’s bootlace.
Azriel’s lips twitched—an actual, reluctant smile—but he shook his head.
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking about you clearly,” you insisted. “And about them. And about the bed—”
Azriel’s hand clamped back over your mouth.
Cassian snorted. “Buddy, that’s not helping.”
Eris leaned back, amused beyond measure.
“Perhaps let her finish.”
Azriel’s jaw flexed. “No. Absolutely not.”
You tried to keep talking under his palm.
“—want—Eris—and—Cassian—and—Az—”
“Cauldron save me,” Azriel muttered.
Your fever-flushed gaze drifted to Eris again, too soft, too warm.
“Eris,” you said from behind Azriel’s hand, voice muffled but determined, “you can come into the bed right now if you want—”
Azriel launched across you, pinning you back gently but firmly, shadows flaring so sharply Cassian ducked.
“You’re done, both of you leave now,” Azriel said.
Eris put a hand to his chest, delighted.
Cassian whistled low. “Az, she literally invited him to bed with you. That’s—”
“She didn’t mean it,” Azriel snapped.
“She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
You tugged at Azriel’s wrist with both hands and mumbled, “Yes I do.”
Azriel didn’t move his palm.
Azriel laughed again, shoulders shaking, breath catching.
“Stop—stop—” he choked out, trying to sound stern but failing terribly.
Cassian: “AZRIEL LAUGHS WHEN YOU LICK HIM. I’M NEVER LETTING THIS GO.”
Eris: “Fascinating. I didn’t know the shadowsinger had weak points.”
Azriel: “Both of you get out.”
Cassian lifted his hands. “Look, I didn’t ask to be invited to this imaginary org—”
Azriel’s shadows snapped around his ankles.
Cassian yelped and stumbled toward the tent flap.
Eris rose gracefully, brushing off his coat.
“I see when I’m no longer welcome.”
“You were never welcome,” Azriel said.
“You say that, and yet your female invited me into your bed—”
Azriel’s shadows surged like a silent storm.
Eris actually backed up this time.
“Yes, yes,” he said lightly. “The fever speaks. I know.”
“Az, you’ve got your hands full. And apparently your mouth too.”
Azriel threw a pillow at his head.
Cassian and Eris slipped out into the cold, muttering and laughing.
Azriel dropped the tent flap behind them, sealing out the wind.
You stared up at Azriel, dizzy and overheated and drunk on fever.
He brushed your hair back again, thumb stroking your cheek gently.
His voice softened to its most intimate register.
You blinked up at him. “Yes?”
“You’re not sharing me,” he murmured.
“Not with them. Not with anyone.”
Your heart fluttered—slow, heavy, fever-lazy.
“I only want you,” you whispered.
He exhaled shakily, relief hitting him like a blow.
“Good,” he breathed, leaning his forehead against yours, “because I was two seconds away from dragging you out of this tent and carrying you down the mountain.”
“I like it when you laugh.”
He did laugh then—quiet, warm, desperate—and pressed a soft kiss to your fever-warm temple.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m right here. No one else.”
You curled against him, his wings and shadows forming a protective barrier around you.
The fever fought you, but eventually…
And Azriel stayed awake the entire night—
still smiling faintly at the memory of you licking his hand.
Part II (The Morning After)”
Your fever broke sometime before dawn.
—blinking against the dim grey light filtering through the tent canvas—
—the first thing you saw was Azriel.
Shadows loosely curled around you both like sleepy pets.
And he was looking at you with the softest, most devastating smile.
He chuckled under his breath.
You covered your face with both hands. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything humiliating.”
You peeked through your fingers. “How bad was it?”He brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You told Cassian he was ‘big enough to carry you to bed.’”
“And that you wanted all three of us at once.”
“I removed them before you added more names.”
“Oh gods,” you whispered into your hands. “Please kill me.”
Azriel laughed—quiet, warm, low in his chest.
“Never,” he repeated, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I like you alive.”
You peered at him, face burning hot for a very different reason this time.
“You were delirious. And adorable. And surprisingly dangerous.”
Azriel tilted his head, smiling dangerously slow.
You collapsed back onto the bedroll and dragged a blanket over your face.
Azriel pulled the blanket down just enough to kiss your nose.
“It was not cute,” you hissed.
“It was adorable,” he insisted.
“Azriel, I told ERIS he could get in bed with us.”
Azriel went still, eyes sharpening.
You swallowed. “Are you mad?”
His expression softened instantly.
“I’m not angry,” he said quietly. “You were sick. Out of your mind. I know you didn’t mean any of it.”
You whispered, “I meant the part about you.”
Azriel’s shadows stirred like a content sigh.
He smoothed a hand along your jaw, voice low:
Cassian barged into the tent without warning.
Azriel shot him a single look.
Cassian smacked into the tent pole and froze.
“Okay. Adjusting tone. New attempt: good morning.”
Cassian grinned like a hyena.
“So,” he said, leaning against the pole, “you remember inviting the three of us to bed last night?”
Cassian held up both hands.
“Just checking her memory! Educational purposes!”
You wheezed. “Cass, I swear to the Mother—”
“Oh no, it’s fine,” he said smugly. “Totally normal to try to collect three males at once.”
Azriel’s shadows lifted off the floor.
Cassian held up both hands again. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!”
But not before whispering:
“You should’ve seen Azriel’s face. He looked like someone tried to steal his mate—”
Azriel threw a boot at him.
Ten seconds later, Eris strolled into the tent with two steaming cups of tea, perfectly composed as always.
“For the invalid,” he said, offering one to you.
“And for the mate who survived.”
Azriel did not look amused.
You buried yourself further under the blankets.
“Please don’t talk to me.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Eris said smoothly. “You were delightful.”
“You told me I’m ‘shiny and mean.’”
“And invited me to share a bed with your mate.”
Azriel’s shadows rose like a dark crown behind him.
Eris took a polite step back.
“Relax, Shadowsinger. I declined.”
“In case you’re curious—I’m flattered.”
You buried your face in your hands again.
“Please gods let me die.”
Eris patted your shoulder delicately.
“If you ever change your mind—”
Azriel surged to his feet.
Azriel sat back down beside you, expression soft again—only soft for you.
“I’m never drinking medicine again,” you muttered.
He laughed quietly, threading his fingers through yours.
“I like you any way you are.”
You peeked at him. “Even delirious?”
He brushed his thumb across your knuckles, slow and warm.
“Especially delirious,” he murmured.
“You say things you’re too shy to say when you’re awake.”
“What things?” you whispered.
Azriel leaned in until his forehead rested against yours.
“That you want me,” he breathed.
“And I do,” you whispered.
Azriel smiled—quiet, real, private.
His hand cupped your cheek.
“I know,” he murmured. “And I love you too.”
“Promise Cassian and Eris won’t ever speak of this again?”
Azriel smirked, shadows curling.
Cassian: “YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME—”
Eris: “We’re absolutely speaking of it—”
“You rest,” he murmured. “I’m going to commit two small murders.”
You fell asleep again with his shadows curled protectively around you.
And somewhere outside, Cassian whispered:
“I’m telling Mor EVERYTHING.”
Azriel groaned into his hands.