Body Count
Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.
based on this funny lil request!
Warnings: angst if you squint, miscommunication, silly az and silly cassian making fun of silly az, mentions of death/killing, a sweet lil kiss! fluff!
Word Count: 3.3k
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You’ve always had a soft spot for Azriel.
It wasn’t just his mysterious aura and brooding looks that made him irresistibly attractive to you— though those definitely added to the appeal. Azriel was thoughtful. He was attentive. He seemed to understand you and your needs in a way that none of your other friends could.
Your feelings for him had grown over time, blossoming into a full-blown crush.
And for the most part, it seemed like Azriel enjoyed your company too.
There was a playful flirtation between you two, a spark that you hoped would ignite into something more. It had grown even hotter these past two months, through conversations that were held entirely too close to one another, stolen glances, and brief touches that sent shivers down your spine.
But deep down in your stomach, there was something holding you back— a bitter, nauseating feeling. You weren’t just nervous, you were insecure.
It wasn’t a secret that Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had their fair share of lovers. After all, they were all extremely attractive and had lived for centuries longer than you. But the idea of Azriel’s love life had begun to spin itself into an anxious, terrifying web in your mind. You weren’t experienced in such matters— at least, not nearly as experienced as Azriel must've been. The thought was daunting to you. Terrifying, really.
It was late at night now, and the last of your family had bid their goodnights, retreating to their respective rooms and homes. You found yourself alone with Azriel in the dimly lit living room, the small crackling fire mixing with the remnants of the celebration that lingered in the air— the heady scent of wine and the distinct smells of each of your loved ones.
You stole a glance at Azriel, noticing the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes bright with mirth. His shadows were calm, dancing playfully around his feet and his arms. He caught your gaze instantly, offering you a lopsided smile, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a way that made your heart flutter.
This was your chance— a perfect, quiet moment to confess something to him. To tell him how you felt.
But the nauseating feeling in your stomach bubbled up once more. You bit the inside of your cheek. Perhaps it was the perfect moment indeed. Not to confess your feelings quite yet, but to get rid of the spider web of overthinking you’d created.
Summoning up the courage, you leaned closer to him, the alcohol emboldening you. "Hey, Az," you began, your voice soft and hesitant.
Azriel turned to you. "Yeah?"
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Can I ask you something?"
Azriel’s face seemed to soften. "Of course."
You held his gaze for a moment, taking in the hues of his eyes that seemed more golden in the firelight. A small blush rose to your cheeks and you swallowed nervously, your fingers fidgeting in your lap.
"What is your body count?"
Azriel blinked. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as his mouth slightly parted, and you watched as his gaze seemed to dance around your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but a hiccup escaped him instead of words.
"I'm just... I was just wondering," you stammered, your cheeks burning hotter with heat. "If you're comfortable sharing, that is."
Azriel smiled at you, letting out another small hiccup as he repositioned himself to lean closer. His shadows seemed to reach out towards you, a subtle, almost subconscious gesture of reassurance. "It's alright," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't mind sharing."
He took a moment to compose himself. “8,754.”
As if you’d been doused in icy water, your alcohol-induced haze dissipated instantly.
"Oh," you breathed out, your eyes widening in shock. "Oh."
You would’ve tried harder to hide your shock, but the only thing you could focus on now was the large, heavy, number. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it settling heavily in the pit of your stomach.
You expected a large number, sure. You told yourself that you could come to terms with it, learn how to be comfortable with the gap in your experiences. But you hadn’t prepared yourself for this large of a number, and suddenly you felt… uneasy.
Azriel watched you closely, his expression quickly filling with concern. "Are you alright?"
Azriel had been with over 8,754 people?
You nodded slowly. Unable to meet his gaze, you casted your eyes towards the carpet in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fine," you murmured, "I, uh, I think I need to go home. I must’ve drank too much."
Azriel seemed to sober up immediately. His shadows, which had been lazily swirling around his feet, suddenly grew still, sensing his shift in mood. He sat up straight, a look of worry crossing his features. "Here, let me walk you to your room," he offered, his wings slightly unfurling as if ready to rise.
You avoided his gaze once more, shaking your head quickly. "It's alright. I got it," you insisted, standing up a bit too quickly. You swayed slightly, and his wings twitched as if he wanted to reach out and steady you. You quickly regained your balance. "Goodnight, Az."
Azriel watched you go, shadows trailing after you slightly before retracting back to him. His wings sagged, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he watched your retreating form disappear down the hallway.
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Azriel was tense. Every muscle in his body, every movement he made, it all felt constrained– stressed. Troubled. His shadows swirled restlessly around him, their hurried movements perfectly mirroring the deep agitation he felt in his gut.
Days had passed since his last proper conversation with you. He missed it— missed your presence, missed your laughter. He’d grown so used to your company, had begun to look forward to your conversations and the small flirty banter that he’d gained the confidence to indulge in. But you were distant now— awkward, even. And it was driving him mad.
It was hot out, the afternoon sun blaring down on him and Cassian as the sound of clashing blades filled the air. Heavy sweat trickled down their faces, to a point where Azriel’s hair clung to his forehead like glue.
But Azriel’s mind was anywhere but the training ring. And his brother quickly noticed.
"Alright," Cassian said, stepping back and lowering his weapon. "Either you're losing to stroke my ego, or something's going on."
Azriel grumbled, parrying another blow. "I'd never lose for your ego.” His wings twitched in annoyance.
Cassian frowned, a scrutinizing gaze watching Azriel's movements closely. Something was definitely off. He tied his hair back up, securing it tightly. "Alright, spill it."
"No," Azriel replied curtly, his grip tightening on his weapon. His shadows seemed to wrap tighter around his form, as if trying to shield him from the conversation.
"No?" Cassian echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not going to talk about my feelings with you. We're not twelve.”
Cassian let out a small scoff, raising his hands in exasperation. "By the Cauldron, Az, just tell me why you've got a stick up your ass."
Azriel glared at him. A moment passed. And then he sighed, sheathing his weapon.
"Y/N has been avoiding me, it seems."
Cassian frowned. "Are you sure?"
The question only brought a scowl to Azriel’s face, who threw Cassian a glare.
"Yes, Cassian. I'm sure."
There was an itchy, prickling feeling of annoyance filtering through Azriels skin. His shadows flared out briefly before settling back into their usual orbit.
"Well, what did you do?"
Azriel’s shadows twisted tighter and his wings rustled uneasily.
"I didn't do anything.”
Cassian gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "Really?"
Azriel threw him another withering glare. But when Cass only responded with a raised eyebrow, Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly. "At least, nothing that I'm aware of."
"Alright," Cass said, "Maybe you offended her somehow. What happened the last time things were normal? Can you remember?"
Azriel paused. He remembered quite clearly despite the drunken haze he had been in. He grimaced as the memory drifted into his mind, bright and clear as day.
"She asked me for my body count.”
Cassian’s eyes widened. He stilled, leaning forward slightly. "And?"
"And I told her.”
There was a pensive look on Cassian’s face, a furrow forming between his brows as he processed Azriel's words. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What is your body count?"
Exactly like that other night, Azriel replied without hesitation. "8,754.”
Cassian coughed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I-I’m sorry?" he spluttered, caught off guard by the staggering number.
Azriel's confusion deepened, a frown marring his features. "You know this.”
"No," Cassian countered, shaking his head emphatically. “I do not know this.”
Azriel clenched his jaw, offering Cassian a cold unamused and irritated stare. “Yes, you do.”
"Apparently not.” Cassian let out a scoff. “Hell, I would’ve remembered if you slept with almost nine thousand people, Az. That's more than me."
Azriel’s face twisted into a scowl, a deep crease forming between his brows. His wings flared slightly.
"Slept with? What the hell are you talking about?"
Realization flickered in Cassian’s widened eyes, and suddenly, an understanding dawned on him. "Oh," he breathed out, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He let out a hearty laugh. "Got all the skills in the world but that brain still fails ya, huh Az?"
Azriel fought the urge to send a swift hit to his brother's jaw, if only to knock the amused grin off his face.
"Can you be serious for one godsdamned minute?" Azriel snapped.
Cassian's laughter subsided, his expression sobering as he met Azriel's gaze— only slightly. The grin still persisted. "Body count doesn’t refer to your kill count," he explained, "It’s how many people you’ve f*cked."
Azriel's face dropped and the color drained from his cheeks. From behind him, his wings fell limp. "You can’t be serious.”
"Deadly serious, brother.”
Azriel glanced to the ground, his mind racing through that moment with you. He thought back to your response, to that small “Oh” that haunted him, to the way your eyes widened. He’d simply assumed that you were disgusted by the amount of lives he’d taken, that you’d spent the night imagining how much blood was on his hands. For some reason, this new reality of what the question meant— it felt even more intimate. Oh gods.
"So does Y/n think that I..." he trailed off.
"That you've f*cked almost nine thousand people?" Cassian finished for him, a subtle grimace painted on his features.
"But I haven't," Azriel protested.
"Well, you should probably be telling her that."
Azriel didn't waste another moment. He turned on his heel, desperate to immediately find you and explain the very apparent miscommunication.
"Wait!" Cassian called out. Azriel paused, turning around with an impatient glare.
"Take a bath. You stink," Cassian said, wrinkling his nose for emphasis.
Azriel's glare deepened, and he flipped Cassian off before continuing his stride toward the exit.
Cassian's laughter boomed behind him, the sound trailing after Azriel as he walked away. "eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-four," Cassian muttered to himself, still chuckling in disbelief.
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Azriel rushed down the hallway. Following Cassian’s unasked for advice, he was freshly bathed, hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. His shadows flitted nervously around his feet, his wings twitching restlessly at his back.
He had no time to waste. Azriel really liked you. He needed to find you and clear up the misunderstanding before it began to fester into something deeper, something much harder to clean up.
He found you in your room, catching you just as you were about to leave. “Y/n,” he said, as he came to a stop in your doorway. His voice was a bit louder than he intended.
You jumped, letting out a small scream as you spun to face him. You caught his gaze as your hand flew to your heart. “Azriel,” you breathed out, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you steadied your breathing. “You scared me.”
He gave you a sheepish smile, his wings shifting slightly– a small, but clear sign of his embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said softly.
You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Az.”
His smile grew. “Hi Y/n,” he responded, walking further into your room. “Are you heading out?”
You blinked in an attempt to break away from his gaze, casting a quick glance down towards your window. “Oh, yeah. I was just gonna go walk about Velaris, get some fresh air.”
Azriel hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would you like some company?”
You hesitated too, a part of you wanting to say yes. But then the infamous number came to mind, and the bitter, nauseating feeling returned. “Maybe another time?” you said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.
Azriel could tell you meant it, but the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Alright,” he responded softly, his wings drooping slightly. “Enjoy your walk.”
A wave of sadness rolled through you at his response, at the way his shadows seemed to still at your rejection. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in his wet hair and the way his eyes seemed to plead with you.
“I’ll see you later,” you said, offering him a small smile before making a move to side-step him.
Before he could overthink it, Azriel reached out and gently grabbed your arm. The touch was soft, but it stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to him, finding yourself suddenly very close to him, faces only inches away.
His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. A giddy flutter spread through you as his touch sent warmth racing through your veins. You melted into his grip, feeling a hunger for his closeness after just a few days without it. His gaze held yours, intense and searching, before flickering down to your lips. You took a deep breath.
“I’ve taken 8,754 lives,” Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and hesitant.
Your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, properly facing him now, trying to process his words. “What?”
Azriel looked sheepish, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty.
His shadows fluttered around him.
“The other night, you asked me what my body count was. I told you 8,754.”
You nodded slowly. “I remember.”
“I thought you were asking how many people I’d killed. Not—” he paused, a small blush reaching his cheeks. “Not how many people I’ve slept with.”
Your lips parted in an O of realization. You took in his face, observing how his shadows swirled tirelessly around him. Azriel offered you a small, unsure smile. A small laugh left your lips.
“Why would I be asking you how many people you’ve killed?” you finally asked. Your voice was soft with confusion and a hint of amusem*nt. A small gleam grew in the shadowsinger’s eyes.
“I don’t know,” Azriel responded honestly. “Why were you asking how many people I’ve slept with?”
You blushed, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s silly.”
Azriel reached forward, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. You fluttered at the sudden closeness, feeling a rush of warmth and nerves flow through your body.
“It’s not,” he insisted softly, his eyes holding yours with unwavering sincerity.
“I just wanted to prepare myself. I haven’t… I’m not experienced in these types of things.” You paused, holding his gaze for a moment. And then the corners of your lips tugged into a smile. “But gods, it’s good to know I don’t have to compete with the experience of almost nine thousand previous lovers.”
Azriel’s expression softened, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You never have to compete with anyone, Y/n. Especially not with me.”
A warmth settled in your chest. His thumb stroked your hand, a soothing rhythm that seemed to cause butterflies in your stomach with every touch.
“Well, that’s good to know,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah?”
Azriel’s voice was soft now, a low cadence that made you feel like puddy in his hands.
“Yeah,” you confirmed with a small smile.
The smile on his face grew further. You traced the movement with your eyes, taking in the small smile lines and dimples that formed. His smile dropped slightly as he frowned, brows furrowing slightly.
“Wait.”
You tilted your head curiously. “Hmm?”
“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed 8,754 people?
“I know you have your reasons.” You shrugged gently. “Also, I don’t have to compete with dead people.”
Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, as if a weight had been lifted off him. A chuckle left his mouth. It was warm and genuine, and the sound resonated deeply within you. “Just one of the many reasons why I like you.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“You like me?
Azriel nodded, his gaze unwavering— something soft, almost sacred. “I do.”
A rush of warmth spread through you at his confession. You took a moment to let the words sink in. Your grin widened. “I knew it.”
Azriel shook his head, a smile of amusem*nt tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t really trying to hide it.”
Your grin widened even more and you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. His thumb continued its gentle rhythm on your hand. “Do you feel the same way?” he asked.
“I wasn’t really trying to hide it,” you admitted, mirroring his previous words with a soft smile.
Azriel’s expression seemed to often further, his eyes reflecting a warm sense of longing. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips.
Slowly, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek delicately, his touch sending a shiver down your body. You took a deep breath, feeling his scarred fingers run alongside your cheek. He met your eyes again, his gaze heavy, seeking something— permission.
“Can I kiss you now?”
Words eluded you for a moment as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You simply nodded, breath catching in your throat as you whispered, “Please.”
For another fleeting moment, his hand cradled your face delicately, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And then he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was sweet and fervent.
It was shy at first— a hesitant, tentative meeting of lips that conveyed unspoken feelings that had never been fully addressed until now. You welcomed the warmth of his lips against yours, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming your senses. You pressed yourself further into his touch, fingers moving to tangle themselves in his hair as you pulled him closer.
Azriel let out a sound of content as the kiss deepened, his shadows wrapping around you both like a protective embrace. You felt their cool, feather touch around your body, felt as lone tendrils weaved through your hair.
When you finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Azriel rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed as he savored the closeness between you. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your cheek.
“I’m glad we cleared that up,” he murmured.
You let out a soft laugh.
“Me too.”
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