Twst Azul Ashengrotto X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Hi hi

May I request Azul with a reader who loves to take photos? Like they have a camera and love capturing memories of those around them with it

again if you have any questions about these let me know

Azul With A Reader Who Loves Taking Photos

Word Count: 946 Words

(A/N): I hope you like it! Reader was written to be Yuu/Player character. It’s, uh, also a little more hurt/comfort than intended. Oops.

Azul has a vendetta against you and your camera.

When you first arrived at Night Raven College, he hadn’t paid any mind whatsoever to your proclivity to photograph absolutely everything that moved with the ghost camera that Headmaster Crowley had bestowed upon you. Photography was a task that was placed upon you - supposedly - and he hadn’t known you as anything other than the magicless student from another world that had been moved into Ramshackle Dorm.

And then you were a sort of acquaintance that insisted on friendship with every sorry student that went through an overblot and the sight of you at Octavinelle with the ghost camera on a lanyard around your neck became a near permanent fixture of his everyday routine ever since he’d paid you back during the whole winter break incident. At first, he didn’t mind your constantly asking for photos. Having a tangible remembrance of occasions like the school festivals and events was something Crowley had asked of you, after all. It didn’t hurt to pose for photos when you were a natural at photography, either.

Lately, however…he could not seem to go more than a few minutes without you constantly calling out to him: “Azul! Hey, Azul! Let’s take a picture together!”

He simply could not wrap his mind around how it had become routine for you to photograph every little thing so incessantly. The constant sound of the shutter on your camera had set him so on edge that he’d even gone as far as banning photography from the Mostro Lounge for a full week, until the protests of the students that enjoyed being able to show off their meals on Magicam had done a hefty blow to his profits for the month.

Even today, during your near daily visit to Octavinelle, you photographed everything from the twins escorting you to his office, the tea Jade served you before exiting with Floyd in tow, to even him retaking his seat to resume working after greeting you. He could hardly focus on the numbers he was reviewing in the lounge ledgers in anticipation of what he knew you would inevitably ask him.

“Azul! Hey, Azul! Let’s take a picture together!”

Sighing, internally chastising the part of himself that could not bring itself to be terse with you, Azul set his pen down.

“Prefect. I am trying to work. You visit knowing that you can keep me company as long as you do not interrupt my work.”

“Yea, but,” you fidget and he decidedly does not smile at your pouting, “you should take a break now and then, Azul. I’m always telling you that. Besides, it’s bad for your eyes to be staring at such tiny numbers for so long.”

“And your suggestion to take a break comes in the form of asking me for yet another photo?”

You huff, as he expects. You fidget with the buttons on your camera as your pout deepens into a frown, which he also expects. He does not, however, expect you to curl in on yourself like a blown out candle, gaze dropping to the floor.

“I just want to have proof of the things that made me happy while I was here, Azul. I…hadn’t realized that I’d been asking you for so many pictures. Sorry.”

It’s such a simple, innocuous apology. Remorseful and definitely something that he did not want to hear come out of your mouth. The reminder of your temporary residence in his world, the realization that you treasured him more than he had thought and he’d belittled your feelings for him, hit him with the cold slap of instant regret.

“No,” he stood abruptly, startling you just as much as the instant regret left him reeling with the need to make amends. “No, there is no need to apologize. I’ve had a long day and I took it out on you.”

He beckons you to him, opting to walk to you instead when he sees how you hesitate with your camera in your hands.

“I hadn’t realized I was something that made you happy,” he sits beside you on the couch, adjusting his glasses to avoid eye contact. He clears his throat when you scoff at him. “Okay, yes, it’s very clear in hindsight how much you care about me. I am just…not well-practiced in things like this.”

You stare silently at him while he struggles to compose himself. He sighs and sits up straight when he sees that you’re not inclined to speak anytime soon, very clearly steeling himself for some sort of grand declaration.

“I’m…sorry.”

You don’t think anyone would blame you for gaping up at him as you do now.

“I really am. It was rude of me. I hadn’t even stopped to consider why you would take pictures of every little thing, even outside of what the headmaster had asked of you. I’ll take as many pictures with you as you’d like from now…If I could ask you to refrain from photographing every single object in the dorm every time you visit?”

Grinning, you press your shoulder up against his as you peer up at his eyes that now squarely look back at you. “Yes. I can agree to that.”

Smiling in return, Azul scoots closer to you so that the two of you can fit into frame as you lift the ghost camera up to snap a picture.

“Thanks, Azul.”

In the photo, Azul is focused entirely on you instead of the camera, eyes soft and full of adoration. If he asks you for a copy of the picture and keeps it framed on his bedside table from now on…well, quite frankly, that’s no one’s business but his own.

(A/N): I hope you enjoyed! Apologies that it’s not all that lighthearted, it just kind of ended up that way…

The Sea Calls Me Home

Twisted Wonderland

You are a witch who lives on the beach of a seaside village. You've always done all you could for the people of the village who gave you a home after you washed up on their shores ten years ago. This season should be no different.

Word Count: 5,037 ✯ AO3 Version

Character(s): Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Can Be Read As Platonic or Romantic (it's up to reader interpretation), Mild Horror Elements, Unedited

Inspired by this writing prompt list and my friend Ames's writing.

“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”

Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.

“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”

The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.

“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”

Townhall was always sweltering whenever you’d enter at the request of the villagers to come in for a meal, a welcome change from the wet cold that clung to every stone and building in the village you’d come to call home ten years ago. Cheers welcomed you as you waved a greeting to everyone, who used the town hall as both the place for hearings and gatherings of meals, a communal space where everyone endured against the storms that plagued this seaside village year round.

“Come, sit!”

“Take this coat, warm yourself, dear!”

“You’ve yet to eat, haven’t you? Here, take your portion!”

Laughing and exchanging greetings with the faces you’d come to know these past ten years, you sat among them, the bowl of oats and eggs warming your frigid fingers as their boisterous chatter warmed your heart. Resources in this village were always short, the land poorly suited to farming, while the mercurial shores made the primary way of life - fishing - difficult to maintain. Despite all this, the people of this village were always joyous. They did not shy from their hard life, they always shared as if they were as rich as the people of the plains. Among the round, smiling faces, it was easy to take note of the utter lack of children. Given that winter had begun to grip the village, it was not usual for the children to begin staying at home, yet there were no children present at all.

“How’re the children?” you asked the man next to you, who looked up at you with a smile sweetened with indolence.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You need not worry about them, witch. Your miracle cures always work.”

“You’ve not done us wrong yet,” his wife, on his other side, giggled. They were just as the day you’d met them, bronzed by a life of fishing, hair grayed by hard labor. Their children came to them late in life, but they always were industrious, eager to help their parents.

“The potion hasn’t taken yet?”

If this was true, then it would be quite worrying indeed. It’d already been a week and a half since you made it for them, assured of its efficacy. You were no doctor, not by any means, but you knew the way of the land and sea enough to ask of nature how to spell together ways of healing to aid the body back to health. But the villagers tittered at you to not concern yourself.

“Please, you know how easy I worry over all of you. You all took me in when I washed up on your shore, gave me a home when I had none. I won’t be able to relax until I know how the children are doing. I don’t want to see any of them die.”

They hushed you quickly.

“Don’t speak such ill omens!” the fisherman’s wife's sweet voice squealed with humor. “We’ve endured no hardship since you came to our shores, don’t jinx it, dear witch!”

The other villagers laughed in agreement. Your lips pursed, your bowl of food cold and unappetizing now. Their positive outlook despite their dreary livelihoods endeared you most days, but when it came to serious issues like this, it truly irked you. Whenever they needed your help, they had become more trusting in your ability to seemingly wipe away all worries with a sweep of your hand over the years, to the point where you seemed to sit apart from them.

“My spellwork is only what any human can ask of the land and sea. I’m no fae or spirit. Please, won’t you tell me if the potion has taken?” But the crowd only laughed off your concerns, at ease and indolent from the warmth of the hearth and meal before them, assured that your potion would work just like every miracle you’d brought them before. You’d get no answer on the health of the children of the village from them.

Sighing, you took your leave to the raucous farewells of the villagers, a sharp shout of a brawl breaking out over your leftovers as you stepped back into the wet chill of the morning air. It gladdened you that even with the scarcity that winter would surely bring and the disease that was coming for each child, that the villagers were plump and without want for good clothes or good food. Still…the lack of concern grated at you. Of course, you’d never know their inner thoughts. Perhaps it was their way of hiding their stress and woes. But you wouldn’t be truly able to know how the children were doing unless you could see it for yourself.

You’d be unable to enter any homes to investigate without express invitation - it was only polite, after all - so you’d have to seek out the only people in this village who were always honest with you about the state of things. They’d come to this village at the same time as you, but had remained aloof from the rest of the village, which suited the other villagers just fine.

Petrichor and rotting sea gross stung at your nose as you followed the road from the town hall to the fringes of the village along the far side of the rocky cliffs that face the sea, over the cave system that snaked underneath the whole of the neighborhood. The wind coming in from the sea whipped and nipped at you, turning your fingers numb with cold even as you shoved them into the threadbare coat you’d been given that morning. It was hard to make out their forms against the near constant gloom of the gray sky and pale sunlight, but the twins who’d come to regard you fondly were fishing off the edge of the cliff, as they usually were every morning.

“Oh? I was wondering when you’d visit,” one twin grinned while the other jumped up to greet you, his fishing pole abandoned, “Shrimpy, you came by!”

You waved with a smile as you approached, unphased as Floyd ran over to scoop you up into a bruising hug, “Hello Jade, Floyd. How’s the catch this morning?”

“The same as always,” Jade dismissed, setting aside his things to pick up Floyd’s abandoned pole and tackle. “What questions do you have for us today?”

Floyd pouted, squishing your face against his chest as you limply let him hug you. It was usually best to just let him out of his system first. “Shrimpy could’ve visited us just to see us, Jade.”

“I actually did have questions,” you interjected quickly, wary of one of Floyd’s mood swings. “But we can have dinner together today, Floyd.”

He sulked, but put you down, somewhat mollified. “You’re worried about the guppies of the village, aren’t you?”

“You’ve always had a bleeding heart,” Jade mused, shaking his head. “Your potion hasn’t taken, it seems.”

You shrugged. “The villagers seem to think that I’m something of a miracle worker now.”

“They’d be worshiping Azul instead if they knew how much you went to him for his cures,” Floyd laughed, only to be cut off by Jade harshly elbowing him in the rib. “Sorry, Shrimpy. I know you just ask him to teach you stuff. Still, it’s weird.”

“Indeed. Azul is knowledgeable; it is odd that the potion hasn’t taken. There’s yet to be an ailment he doesn’t know a cure for yet.”

You swallowed down another sigh.

Azul the sea witch…

He was an enigmatic mer of the sea who’d been introduced to you by the twins one fateful night ten years ago, during your first winter in this village.

Once a deal was struck with him…

It was difficult to not seek out another one from him.

“Will you just tell me how the children are doing? Have any died?”

They shook their heads, relieving some of the tension from your shoulders. A roll of thunder had the three of you looking to the sky, which had begun to darken.

“They’re the same as when you first saw them,” Floyd turned to you with a frown, his golden eye seemingly to glow in the dimming day.

“None have been taken yet. Your potion has halted whatever haunts them. But it has not cured them,” Jade continued, his golden eye flaring brighter than Floyd’s.

You nodded, used to their matter of fact answers. You’d learned not to ask how they got these answers without ever leaving their hut ten years ago.

“He’ll arrive soon,” they said as one.

It was your cue to leave the way you’d come, following the cliffs down to the beach you had come to call home.

The horizon promised a storm the likes of which would continue to swallow the sky whole and flood the tide caves that were under the cliffs of the coast. The beach was always a disgusting thing to behold on the eve of a storm. Bleached coral, jagged and sharp, would dot the shoreline like spit-up bones, the rust of sediment thrown up by the tide always stained the sand like blood. Here, between the advent of a storm and the rejection of the sea, was the best time to harvest materials from the sea for spells and magic.

It was also the only time one would be able to exchange with the sea witch when he came to shore.

Despite having dealt with him since you’d arrived on this same shore ten years ago, shipwrecked and with no memory save your name and how to bargain a spell from the spoils of the sea and land, Azul was as unchanged as the ebb and flow of the tide itself. His skin was ashen, his tentacles a writhing mass that spoke of the abyssal depths he usually resided in, his hair neatly coiffed despite the waters he rose out of to offer his bargains.

“How quick you are to sell yourself for those who would sell you for half a loaf of bread,” he sighed in lieu of a greeting, towering over you as his tentacles pushed him up from the sea before he stepped down in front of you one human foot at a time, into the form of the bespectacled gentleman he always took when coming ashore. “Have you not heard of the tale of the fool who gave and gave until nothing of him was left? It’s been less than a week since you asked me to check over your potion.”

“You’re so cynical, yet you never decline a deal with me. Hypocrite, much?”

He scoffed, shaking his head at you. “It’s natural for a business man to weigh his risks against his potential profit. If you’re not in good condition, how am I to exact a price from you?”

You giggled as he walked away, already familiar with the path up the beach to the cottage the villagers had given you on the outskirts of the village proper. Despite the threat of the sea swallowing the ramshackle thing whole with the frequent storms that plagued the village, never once had it ever occurred to you to move residence, despite a certain sea witch’s snide remarks over the years. You would be loath to be away from the sea, and there was no home that could possibly be closer to the sea than your cottage upon the beach.

“So? What is the issue plaguing your helpless villagers this time? A charm for their nets for the season? A spell for the hearths to catch flame against damp wood? Grain for the winter?”

He looked about the single room of your home impatiently as he asked, scowling at the empty fireplace in the kitchen. It had gone out when you’d left that morning, the old window liable to drafts. The lumber in it caught fire with a single glare from him before he sat at the sad excuse of a dining table, nodding in satisfaction. You hid your smile behind the busyness of preparing tea for him, though it was really nothing more than some mint leaves and honey in tepid water.

“Medicine this time, actually. The potion I’d ask for your consultation on was for -”

“The villagers, I know,” he interrupted. “I’d gathered as much. It’s always for others, never for yourself, with you.”

You laughed, serving him the ‘tea.’ He took a long draw of it, setting it down with a huff, eyes lingering on every chip and fracture line of the cup. They mended themselves with a quiet slosh of liquid.

“The children have caught something that the potion isn’t helping. Floyd and Jade said that it’s halted whatever it is, but…it seems the children are in a stasis or sorts, it seems. None have died, thankfully. And I would like to keep it that way.”

He nodded slowly, summoning a style of fish bone as you brought out the paper you kept specifically for the deals you made with Azul. “Yes, let’s. I’ve no love for those villagers you care for so much, but the children hold no blame here. Describe the illness to me. Then we’ll see if I can grant what you ask of me.”

So you did, listing the symptoms as they had appeared nearly a month ago now.

Each symptom appeared three days apart.

The first sign was a loss of the legs. Useless and weak, the child would become bound to their bed.

The second sign was a hallowing of the body, until the child was little more than skin and bones. They lost weight and muscle mass in a matter of hours, despite no fluids being expelled from the body, in spite of any meals or medicines given to the child.

That was when you’d begun brewing your potion to give to the children, having dealt with a similar such plague harming the village some winters before, though the rapidity of the symptoms were starkly different from what had happened in the past.

Then three days later, the day you’d been able to administer the potion after consulting Azul on the efficacy of your potion, came the latest symptom in the children you were too slow to reach.

A loss of vivacity, a stillness of the chest and breath, eyes utterly dim and vacant; as if the child had drowned. Dead in all but reality.

Azul’s stylus paused from his note taking as you described the latest of the symptoms, inks pooling onto the paper and blotting out his neat, looping script.

“The price of this is too high for you to pay.”

You didn’t blink an eye.

“You know this disease.”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand of Azul to honor your ten years of bargains to answer you.

The fire in the hearth flared bright and wide, stray sparks freckling your cheeks, kissing them with sharp burns. You sat unmoved. The fire shrunk back when Azul noticed the ash that fell from your skin.

“I’m not teaching you the cure for it. Wash yourself of this situation.”

“What happened to the innocence of the children? I can take the cost of you healing them in my stead.”

The fire roared long enough for the edge of your window curtain to catch flame before it snuffed itself abruptly with a hiss, in time with Azul pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“You cannot afford even that,” he hissed out from behind clenched teeth. “Must I spell it out for you? What a cost this high even means? This disease is inhuman. It is dark. Do not involve yourself in it.”

“Can’t I? You’re clever about your loopholes, Azul. Won’t you make one for me?”

He glared, standing and flicking away the stylus with a wave of his hand, the thing disappearing back to where it came in a cloud of ash, right along with the paper he’d been taking notes on.

“I’m not making this deal with you.”

Your brow twitched. “What? What do you mean you won’t? The children - “

He looked down at you, sighing out your name almost apologetically, the command effective immediately as you found yourself shackled to your chair indignantly.

“Azul!”

“Hush.” Your mouth clamped shut and you squealed your ire at him as he looked at you with pity. “You really are a bleeding heart. Know that I take no joy in the harm of children; I am an opportunist, not a monster. I will not make this deal with you. Nor will you make such a deal with any other. You will leave the humans be. If the children are not well another week from now...then I will come to shore for you. But you will leave the humans be.”

You’d be struggling in your seat against his command, but his order shocked you into stilled silence. After these ten years of knowing you, never once had he ever used your name against you like, not once, and now he used it against you in the cruelest way you could have ever imagined.

“Too sweet, you are,” he murmured, hardly able to meet your betrayed gaze. He glanced at the hearth, the flames gently leaping to life again, before turning to the door and stepping out with a look back. In a flash of lightning, he was gone, back into the sea from whence he came.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The next seven days consisted of your anxious pacing along the shoreline, unable to enter the village proper, or even trek up the coastline to visit the twins and ask after the health of the children. You knew none of the villagers would come to see you, none of them ever entered your little beach, not once these past ten years. You wouldn’t be able to ask them anything because of Azul anyways, but it still disheartened you that no one even looked your way as you paced the shore, alternating between cursing at the sea and busying yourself with collecting the things that washed up on shore for spells that you could sell. You supposed it was just business as usual, for the villagers to not even check up on you, since you would disappear into your home for days at a time to work on the magic you used to help them each season.

The anxiety over the fate of the children was getting to you.

The minute Azul’s command lost hold on you on the dawn of the eighth day, you all but sprinted into town, anxiety practically choking you as you asked each villager how their children were fairing. Again, as they had the week before, they’d laughed and waved off your worries. Each villager you asked, the same lack of concern. Until you reached Ms. Spade, the widower who always made sure you had your own supply of grain and linens each winter before she went to visit her mother in the mainland with her son Deuce for the season.

She called out your name in relief upon seeing you, grasping your hands with such a grip that your joints ached. “I haven’t seen you in days! What happened?”

“I wasn’t able to leave my home,” you grimaced, “How is Deuce? Is he still okay?”

Ms. Spade’s sober expression was all the answer you needed.

“We were sure it wasn’t contagious, helping the Clovers care for their youngest alongside Trey, but three days ago, both Trey and Deuce lost the use of their legs. It won’t be long now before both of them…”

You squeezed her hands in turn as her voice cracked before reaching into your pockets to produce more of the potion you’d made before, pushing them into your hands. “This is what I gave the other children. It didn’t cure the other children, but it did halt the symptoms.”

She pulled you into a brief, fierce hug before bolting off in the direction of the Clover household, her speed enough to rival her own son. Exhaling slowly to calm your racing heart, you observed the village to gauge the moods of the people around you. The majority of the villagers were indolent and smiling, but after speaking with Ms. Spade, you began to notice the wary faces of some haunting the shadows of their doorways, looking on in contempt and weary compliance.

Thunder rolled in the distance.

“You’re back in town. I thought Azul would have commanded your banishment to be longer.”

You whirled around to find Jade carrying a cooler of his morning’s catch, observing you and your nerves. Floyd was nowhere to be seen, as was to be expected. He did not enter the village proper if he could help it, always preferring to be by the sea, much like you.

“The children.”

“Still in stasis,” he reassured, pausing as his gold eye flared briefly in a glow. Something about its glow nagged at a memory that would not catch in your mind. “None have died. More have fallen ill, though. It will not be long before all of them are affected.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, Jade’s arm shooting out to steady you as you wobbled at the news, a hot wash of anger towards Azul blinding you.

“Is the storm close enough for me to see him?” you managed to spit out, clinging to his arm as he steadied you. His concerned silence had you looking up at him, eyes narrowing. “You and Floyd know more about this disease than you let on.”

“Not anymore than you did, until Azul told us. It was after he’d visited you.”

You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him in until you were nose to nose, your voice rough with rage, “Tell me. Tell me all of it, Jade. I’m not some child, too naive to know about the consequences of dealing in spellwork! Why the footing around the issue the minute this disease is discussed? What is happening to the children?!”

He remained calm, shifting his arm to below your waist to hoist you up into a carry, hushing your indignant shriek with a whisper of your name to command your silence. The second time in ten years that they’d dare to use your name against you.

“You’re bringing unwanted attention to us. Come, we’ll go see Azul. I’ll explain as we walk.”

You were forced to sit in his arms in silence as he carried you through the village, the curious gazes of the villagers sliding off the two of you like water as their eyes glazed over and something else caught their attention. You squeezed his shoulder with your nails as hard as you could, irritated when he hardly spared you a glance.

“At first, Floyd and I thought it was like that illness you prepared for five years ago. That was why we fished for the memory of that potion you made at the time and helped you gather the ingredients for your potions. But then Azul came to us after he confined you to your home with the symptoms you’d described to him. You hadn’t told us nearly half of what you’d told him. Floyd was quite cross with you.”

You winced, aware that Jade was cross with you as well, even if he left it unspoken. He continued on, just as matter of factly.

“As Azul told you, the disease is inhuman. To be more precise, it is a dark, forbidden magic. It is drenched in the work of fae dealings.”

He glanced up at you, making eye contact.

“Unlike Azul, the fae deals in the way of an exact, equivalent exchange.”

He looked forward again, taking care as he steps onto the beach, so as to not drop you on the uneven terrain.

His command on you had lost its hold, but you were too tremulous to open your mouth. Azul was already waiting at the shoreline, in his human form, the tide creating a semi-circle around him as it ebbed in and out.

“The children are wasting because they are being traded for - “

You slapped a hand over Jade’s mouth, unable to hear the rest. He was unbothered, setting you down. Your knees gave up, but he kept his arm around you to hold you up.

Azul approached with sigh, taking you from Jade’s hold to support you himself.

“The children have not improved on their own, I take it?”

You could barely manage a shake of your head, a cold nausea rising up within you. Azul’s hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, soothingly, kept your focus in the moment.

“These humans are why I didn’t want you to leave home,” he sighed, easing you down to the sand so that you could sit together. Jade walked off in your peripheral vision, but your focus was on Azul and his words. He hesitated for a moment, removing his glasses and looking down at them for a moment, before looking up at you. “I am…sure you noticed that the humans of this village have always been the chipper sort, despite the harshness of the land they live on. It’s what drew you to them, after all.”

You nodded slowly, fighting against the urge to close your eyes and cover your ears.

“Have you not wondered why that is? Why their life is so plentiful, when their land does not take seed, when their shores are wracked by storms so often that their one means of sustenance is not sustenance enough?”

He paused, waiting for a response, then continued on while you remained silent.

“Did you not wonder why they were so eager to welcome you and give you a home out of the abandoned shack on the beach when you offered magic in exchange for nothing but a hot meal?”

You shut your eyes, refusing to open them even as his hands cupped your face and his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

“You’ve always been a bleeding heart,” he sighed, pulling away. The air grew damp, and it was becoming hard for you to breathe as the magic in the air began to concentrate.

When had the two of you moved from the beach? Where had Jade gone?

“Do you still wish to save the children?”

You opened your eyes to meet his, swaying as your brain fought against what he was telling you, what he was asking of you. You were beginning to gag on the magic in the air.

“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”

Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.

“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”

The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.

“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”

Azul caught you, cradling you to his chest. He sighed, stroking the top of your head with a frown. You were haggard and drained, your human form ill-suited to take in the untamed magic of the cave he’d brought the two of you to, away from the beach where villagers lingered at the edges, unable to actually enter the cursed beach themselves. He traced gentle touches down your face, your shoulders, your arms, undoing the spells he’d layered upon you ten years ago when he’d delivered you to the shores of this village.

The one deal he’d regretted in the past ten years.

He kept watch over you until your breathing eased and your body adjusted to the magic saturating in the cave, laying you down in the pool of water that’d begun to grow as the tide came into the cave.

Your true form was just as breathtaking as the last he’d seen it, before you’d left home to come onto land, to be with these humans you loved so much.

“To think I’d ever break my rule to never negotiate with the fae,” he murmured, taking in your peaceful, sleeping face.

He hated humans, yes. They made it so easy to prey upon their greed. He truly did not understand what you saw in them.

But he was still no monster.

Likes and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated! If you have any questions about this story and the elements that were left open ended and up to interpretation, please feel free to send me an ask!