thecomfortwriter @thecomfortwriter - Tumblr Blog

⋆༺𓆩☾𓆪༻⋆ 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒕 ⋆༺𓆩☾𓆪༻⋆

[𝗮𝗰𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗿!𝗮𝘇𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗹 x 𝗴𝗲𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗮-𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗰]

⋆｡𖦹° 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 °𖦹｡⋆

“He comes not only in the night. No… he comes for me. A winged fae lover for a mortal Nerakai girl like me.”

My name is Sayuri, and I’m in love with a Fae. He is called Azriel — a devastatingly handsome winged Illyrian. He says he is a Spymaster, though I am not entirely certain what this means. All I know is that there are things he cannot tell me, even after the many nights he spends in my arms. But I understand secrets. I myself am Nerakai, a lady of dusk. A bride of song and dance, vows made to art and beauty, promised to celibacy… until him. I am supposed to belong to my House. To my craft. Yet lately, something distresses my Azriel. Something stirs his shadows. And worse still… something ancient is wakes inside me. Something that is not entirely human.

☾ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔

WORD COUNT: 3.8K

DISCLAIMER: ACOTAR is NOT mine in any way. This is just for fun. Be respectful. Minors, shoo.

ೀ ˚₊‧ 𓆩🌙𓆪 🪽 𓆩🌊𓆪 ‧₊˚ ೀ ೀ ˚₊‧ 𓆩🌙𓆪 🪽 𓆩🌊𓆪 ‧₊˚ ೀ

SOLACE OF DARKNESS

He comes in the night. He comes when all but one lantern in all of Neppan is extinguished — one that I light for him. Not a phantom of dusk nor a beast of myth. As tangible as a passing breeze, yet as elusive as a dream. Were it not by the soft light of my lone lantern by the latticed sliding paper windows, even I would’ve thought that he wasn’t real.

He comes not only in the night. No… he comes for me. A winged fae lover for a mortal Nerakai girl like me.

I wait for him on my futon, winding thin linen bandages around the ache of my calluses. I feel bare in my underthings without the weight of my embroidered robes or the bejeweled belt that tightly encircles my waist or the heeled, polished wooden slippers that ensure that every step I take is as small as the last.

For creatures depicted to be so delicate, a true Nerakai is all but that. We don our beautifully painted, porcelain, doll-like faces, wear our beautifully intricate himonas, perform our beautifully choreographed dances, voice our beautifully composed songs with musical accompaniment, flash our beautifully practiced smiles, endure every interaction painfully, if it cannot be helped, but it must always be done so beautifully.

Nerakai is art, and they can only be loved as such.

The window slides silently open, and he would have come and gone unnoticed were it not for the flickering flame of the lantern as a wisp of wind entered with him. His feet perched on my windowsill.

His head of rustled, inky, short curls, his bright hazel irises, his inked, bronze complexion, his wide shoulders and muscled chest beneath those dark leathers — golden by candlelight. And oh, those marvels of creation… wings so rightly ethereal.

“Sayuri…” he breathes as he utters my name.

Before I even realized, my hands found solace on the skin of his neck, my fingertips grazing his angled jaw. His hands find mine and bring them to his pillowy lips — the milkiness of my own complexion contrasting the depth of his.

“Azriel,” I breathe in reply.

The crinkle between his brow fades, and a smile finally breaks the solemnity of his handsome features.

He whisks me away.

The last lit lantern in all of Neppan is finally extinguished the moment he gathers me into his arms and takes flight into the night.

The pale-colored, silky robe that encased me was not enough to preserve any semblance of bodily warmth against the biting cold. Supposing he felt me tremble, he holds me more firmly against him. The hard planes of his body against the softness of mine. As the sea embraces the coast, or like the earth cocooned by sky. Among the stars, we were our own planet — suspended in the infinite cosmos. My arms bind him closer to me, and I can feel him smile. How peculiar we must look, his large inhuman wings beating against the breeze with the ribbons of my night gown trailing behind us. A comet streaking across the atmosphere.

We don’t speak. Not yet. For every secret has its own refuge, and even a whisper of it risks the source of its very breath. Not until our feet touch the sand below us, until the silent roar of the crashing waves in our periphery. Like the Nerakai themselves, the prefecture of Hanakawa was a monument of pulchritude and its very heart, the capital city Hanahime, even more so. Nevertheless, there was never a time that Sayuri allowed its presence to drown the natural grandeur of the oceanside.

The moon was now fully enthroned on her rightful seat in the sky. Her court is in full motion, her servants stars spinning in their constellations and every glimmer against the surface of the salty tides, her dancers. I am always breathless at the sight of the sea. Each instance, something deep within me moves... ascending but never quite reaching. Were it not for his fingers slowly warming mine, I would have probably faded into the cold pale light...

"Hi," I smile, our noses touching as he leans his forehead against my own.

"Hello," he replies... with the most beautiful face I have in a lifetime of beauty behold. He cups my cheeks. I could feel the indentations of his scarred hands against my skin. The sun could be blotted out from existence, and I would find him again with those very hands. He kisses me softly, and I pull him closer to me, yearning to be molded together in every sense. Our hearts thunder in unison. His hands linger and grasp at my waist as mine settle against his chest.

I nibble on his lower lip playfully, and he pulls away briefly with a fire in his eyes. I chuckle, his nose tracing the line of my neck, and the tease is short-lived as he sinks his teeth ever so slightly on the skin behind my ear. I gasp, his thumb grazes the underside of my breast, and his pinky dips slightly in the band of my underwear. I moan inadvertently, and instantly flush pink.

"I should've flown us straight to the cottage," he growls as he kisses the length of my neck. "Sometimes you make me forget just how dangerous you are to me..."

"Already?" I quirk a brow. "You were here just last night."

"A day from you is far too long," he whispers as I laugh.

He's so different from the Azriel I first met many moons ago. A quiet, brooding, and curious figure lurking at the corner of the local theatre night after night. Once among some of the most mysterious patrons in the district, now a fae lover beneath moonlight.

"Shall we?" He extends an arm. "Before I ravage you on this shore?"

"Let's," I giggle, taking it in stride as we begin our routine stroll down the coast, winding all the way to the Old Road that carves into a nearby forest -- and in it the heart of our refuge.

"Long day?" I ask him, kissing his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he replies plainly... as he always does and diverts it to me.

"Won't you tell me more, oh-so mysterious Shadowsinger?" I lean into him, really using my Nerakai charm for a sufficient answer this time.

"Sayuri," he breathes my name once more. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I feign my innocence lightly. He chuckles, and it reverberates in the hollow of his chest. We stopped walking altogether, and he folded me into his arms.

"The details of my work are dangerous," he says gently.

"And the details of mine are dangerously boring, and yet I never fail to avail them to you." I pout, and he holds my chin between his fingers.

"Then I would like to amend my statement," he smiled, raising my chin to meet his impassioned gaze.

"The details of my work are deadly," he sighs. "Every moment of my existence without you in it is daunting. You are the light at the end of every dark tunnel that is every passing day. You yearn to live vicariously, I understand, but your well-being is something I will not simply risk at the cost of a future with you. I promise, my love, when the time is right... I will tell you everything."

I can feel the softness of his lips as they graze my knuckles, the heat of his words has inadvertently... placed heat somewhere else.

"You are making it very hard to enjoy this leisurely stroll, Azriel," I whisper, cheeks pink.

"To be quite honest, there are very hard parts of me that make it equally difficult to enjoy said leisurely stroll," he winked.

I shove him lightly into the water, splashes of salt on his leather boots shimmering in the moonlight. I wrinkle my nose at him.

"気持ち悪いよ！" I declare as he laughs aloud, his arms once more enfolding me. I can feel the chill of my ocean seeping into the skin through my toes in their deluge. I giggle as he peppered kisses across my cheeks and the bridge of my nose.

"Does that mean we can fly straight to the cottage, now?" A boyish smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You know damn well what it means, " I reply.

"しょょうがない… 小百合、すごく美しいから…”

There's only so much I can attribute the pink in my visage to the cool night. In my lifetime, I have been deemed beautiful plenty. It is both a privilege and a wound to be in such a position. It is my existence. But it's only among his words, from his lips, from his heart and soul -- that it truly means something to me. He leans in to kiss me again, before I turn away, diverted by something moving among our submerged ankles.

"They're here again," He remarks, gazing at the school of very small fish, their silver scales iridescent beneath the light of the moon. Their flowery tails tremble with every crashing sigh of the waves, and the algae they consume glow in their bellies. I stare at them with a certain fondness.

"Perhaps we've stayed too long," I suggest, kissing his shoulder.

Azriel nods, lifting me from the water effortlessly before we ascend together. The silver fish seem to have vanished without a trace.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ☁︎🪽☁︎ ִֶָ˖ ࣪𓂃

The cottage is one of the scarce possessions that I actually own. My wages, dresses, gifts, and privileges -- they all belong to the House, to my Okusan -- who I have the burden of repaying my debt because it is through her I am made Nerakai. Therefore, in a sense, I belong to them. But the cottage, however humble it is, is a reminder that, however much I owe, I also belong to myself and with Azriel at the heart of it... I can't help but feel complete.

I previously rented it for 50 marui a month from a kind fisherman when I was still a Shiori, a learning apprentice, and when he passed, he put the title in my name -- one of the single kind gestures I've known in my life. The cottage was then on the verge of deterioration, and it took many years for me to make it to what it is now. The cottage itself is situated in a grove of sweet-smelling trees with pale, weeping leaves. It stands beside a gentle stream from which many floating lotuses thrive, as well as a generous population of croaking frogs and singing cicadas.

We drift down in front of the raised veranda, and Azriel sets me down on the ledge. I've forgotten the linen bandages wound around my feet, and now they're soaked with ocean water. Ever so attentive, Azriel kneeled down to unwind them gently. I flinch slightly, but I really try not to. Everything about a Nerakai is pleasing except their feet. Mine are a pastiche of violets and blues and yellows and reds. They have been like that the day I first started and perhaps until the end of my natural life. Azriel seems to glare at them, as if they could disappear if he did it hard enough. I think... out of all the people I know... he is the only one who dislikes that I am Nerakai.

"I'm going to get you out of here, you'll see," he huffs. I bend to cup his angled jaw.

"I know I can be difficult... when I ask about your work," I smile. "But compared to yours, it is truly inconsequential."

He discards the bandages and rises to cup my face likewise.

“But you are not.”

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that… especially when all your life you’ve been told that your worth exists not because you’re a person… but because you’re a product. And your performance, your logistics, are the only determinants of your worth. Truly, to be loved only as art. That is the edifice I have been indoctrinated to build around me, to trap me. And it will take more than a lifetime for Azriel to dismantle it brick by brick.

I look away… ironically, words are always hard to come by with the surge of emotions, in the moments when they are perhaps needed the most. He lifts me into his arms once more.

“Azriel—“

“You have taken care of people all day,” he says exasperatedly. “Won’t you let me have the honor of doing the same for my woman?”

Sayuri smiled, relenting into his embrace as we passed the threshold into the sunken entryway. Azriel sets me down on the elevated floor before unlacing his boots, putting them aside, and fully entering the cottage. It opens into a traditional Neppanese living room with wooden flooring and grass-woven walls. Culturally, furniture is sparse and low. A low-lying hearth lies below the floor, and the curtains dominating the back wall veil shelves in which futons, pillows, blankets, and other belongings are placed. One partition separates them from where food is stored.

To the right, a latticed, sliding door leads to a small bedroom. To the left is an exit into an outdoor natural spring bath and restroom with a small kitchen on the continuing veranda. Behind the cottage, an overgrown worship garden thrives. The Neppan believes in many gods of various aspects. Naturally, the fisherman prayed to the sea. Gods also had the eccentric trait of having as many aspects as people associated with them. Waterways, ocean, and providence — this was the legacy of Yorunamikai (夜波海).

Azriel carries me into the outdoor bath. Truly, one of the things I admire most about him was the amount of self-restraint he possessed as he untied the ribbons of my robe and slid the sleeves down my shoulders. I watch him, his every movement intentional… almost reverent. The air is cold as he slowly undresses me from my night gown and underthings. I look away shyly, the peaks of my breasts reacting conversely. A deep chuckle tumbles from his lips, and it goes straight to the insatiable desire between my legs. He kisses the skin of my chest.

“Beautiful,” he whispers. “Get in the bath. I’m right behind you.”

I can feel the heat of his stare as I slowly descend into the spring. I sat myself on a submerged stone bench, matching the intent in his gaze as he stripped himself of his leathers. Azriel never really talks about himself — not even the pleasures of our lovemaking can soften his conviction of secrecy. Those handsome, sealed lips. But his scars, and the hardened, refined shape of his sun-kissed body, tell me that here is an experienced warrior. The black-blue swirls inked on his skin are earned laurels from hardship. His bat-like wings, arching and powerful, an emblem of ancient ancestry. His eyes… as hazel as the sunlit grassy fields… testaments of a soul that seems much older than it appears.

His bronze pectorals were licked with sweat. His wind-kissed hair. Forget Nerakai. Azriel was born and made beautiful. And I can’t believe he’s mine. It’s all I could really think about as he joins me in the spring. The soothing warmth of the water and the cool night converge in the fine mist, the gentle ascending steam that encases us both. Azriel sits behind me, and we pour water over each other. Nothing but the song of the rustling, sweet-smelling trees with their weeping leaves, the trickling of the quiet stream, the bubbling of the spring, and the choir of frogs and cicadas. The feel of his body surrounding mine is all that I know in this moment as he lathers soap into my hair and my shoulders.

I turn in my seat to meet his eyes, and wash his face and neck. He takes my hand and kisses it fervently. His hands grasp my waist, and he pulls me close. He whispers against my lips, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” I reply.

“I don’t like dreaming because it makes me hope in a world like this,” he says. “But when I’m with you… I just can’t help it.”

His gaze was no longer merely heated; it was burning now. Burning for me.

“When I dream, you are the first I see every morning and the last at night. When I dream, there is no longer a sky that separates us. When I dream… I see your face among my brothers… among… our children.”

“Azriel,” I breathe his name, his face in my hands.

“I-I didn’t grow up in a good family as a kid,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on his scarred hands. “I know there’s a lot I’m not telling you — a lot you don’t know about me. You t-trusting me is more than I could ever ask for—“

“Breathe, baby.” I soothe his cheek with my thumb. His hazel eyes glimmer in the moonlight.

“But I want this— all of it. I want you.”

Words are truly hard to come by.

So I reach up to kiss him. Our hearts are trembling with such great feeling, and we know it in our bones. My fingers wander toward the ridges of his wings as they cocoon us, they quiver at my touch, and his gaze darkens slightly.

“You’re making it difficult for me to hold myself back… I really want to take care of you…” He groans into my damp shoulder.

“I don’t recall telling you to hold back,” I whisper, fingers running through his hair. “There are other ways to take care of me, you know…” I flatten a palm against the inside of his wing, and I could feel him shudder, biting his teeth.

“Sayuri…” he growls, lifting me from the spring and onto a stone step. The cold air bites the skin of my breasts, and the warmth of the water encases my legs. I sigh at the remarkable difference in temperature, and he takes the chance to capture my lips with his, his fingers slipping into the heat between my legs, his thumb placing pressure on sensitive flesh.

“A-Azriel…” I breathe.

“Beautiful,” he gasps. “So beautiful…”

His lips travel down the length of my neck and place kisses across my breasts. They linger on the flesh of my stomach and descend… he descends. He looks up at me, handsome face between the valley of my legs, his veined hands hooking my limbs on his broad shoulders.

“いただきます,” he whispers, his heated breath on my pussy as his tongue finally dips between my folds and into me.

“A-Az,” his fingers grasp the flesh of my thighs as he devours me. My back arches as he inserts a finger into me, my gaze turning skyward. The moon, round and in all its milky light, shimmered in every drop of sweat and spring water on our skin. Mist and steam rose all around us.

I whimper, just before I reach my very limit. He withdraws, I heave a sigh and stare breathlessly at him between my legs. He grins, kissing my parted lips briefly. He begins to rise from the spring… water sliding gloriously from all those muscles. I flush at his hardened member in sight…

“Want to make love to you properly,” he grunts, kissing my neck and lifting me into his arms. I pout in reply, and he chuckles as he hurriedly wraps us in towels before basically charging into the cottage.

I yelp as he sets me on the futon and among the cream-colored sheets. I don’t catch a single breath before his lips are on mine again. His wings tighten as I stroke his cock. A guttural moan escapes him, and he catches my wrist.

“Baby,” I whisper.

“Woman, I’m trying not to cum until I’m inside you,” he breathes against my mouth. I chuckle as he releases my wrist and lays me down. He allows my fingers to guide him into me.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you,” I answer.

He slips into me, and his length fills me. His wings quiver open, and I tremble at the sensation of us converging. He kisses me deeply, his cock stroking in and out of my slicked heat. His mouth sucks at one breast, his hand teases the other, and his thumb circles my clit gently.

“A-Azriel— I’m gonna—“

“Sayuri—“ he grunts, and my climax rips through me, limbs shaking…

“Baby—“ he flips me on my stomach and kisses my shoulder. I can’t stop trembling… feeling myself floating towards another high.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers. “You take me so well. I’m— g-gonna cum… w-where—?”

“I-Inside,” I gasp. “I’m on the c-concoction.”

I swear I felt his length stiffen even more, sinking even deeper into me. His wings reflexively cocoon us as he drives into me rigorously, his fingers playing with my clit.

“Y-Yeah?” I can feel him smile. “And fill you up?”

“Want your c-cum baby,” I whimper as he pepper kisses across my back.

“As you wish, my love,” he replies as his thrusts begin to stagger and his wings tremble. His fingers grasp the futon beneath us tightly, veins pulsing beneath that deliciously golden skin.

“S-Sayuri,” he whispers. “Sayuri—!”

I feel him spill inside of me, and his member grows soft. His breath is soothing against my skin, and I relish the sensations of our spent bodies as he tucks me into his arms and lies on our side. He doesn’t slip out of me as we lie together. I can feel his hot cum leak into my cool skin as he pushes it back into me.

“What I wouldn’t give,” he breathed, tracing circles on my shoulder. “To see your face in the daylight and make love to you under the sun.”

“I will always be brave enough…” I reply softly. “To dream.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, he kisses my cheek. “What are they? Your dreams…”

“I dream that someday we’ll have a cottage… just a little bigger than this,” I smile. “With a nice kitchen and a lovely reading nook…”

He smiles in turn.

“Besides, we’ll run a little eatery with a vegetable garden at the back. And we’ll definitely be beachside.”

“Definitely,” he echoes.

“I want our home to have five bedrooms at the very least…” I continue. “For all our children, of course…”

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Sounds good to me. And just how many do we dream of having?"

"Well... as many as you'll put in me," I whisper, kissing his jaw.

"Well, in that case..." he says as he lays me on my backside, hazel eyes gleaming. I can. His member begins to stiffen once more inside. "We might as well get started."

☾₊ ⊹ 🪽🌊🪽 ⊹ ₊☾☾₊ ⊹ 🪽🌊🪽 ⊹ ₊☾☾₊ ⊹ 🪽🌊🪽 ⊹ ₊☾

MASTERLIST

A/N: hi! if you've reach this point, i want to thank you for reading this. i've only recently started reading ACOTAR and im so into it, that this idea simply leapt from the depths of my fevered imagination. should i make more parts? im planning to create a 'taglist' so feel free to shoot me a message or reply. it has truly been such a joy creating this lil fic after a long hiatus from writing. take care of ur self! -kai

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

thecomfortwriter