Work Text:
Azul’s first thought was that you were beautiful. His second was that you were a great contender to make a contract with him. You were everything that he needed; gullible, ditzy, and a bit vague. He smiled as he planned how to catch you in his jaws and hold you close enough that you wouldn’t be able to move again. No… That you wouldn’t be able to speak. That soothing thought satiated him as you rambled on and on, something about hoping to find someone on land, or something of the like. Thinking of how you wouldn’t even be able to stand up for yourself, simply dependent on him to speak for you…
“Ah, of course. I can give you whatever you desire, as long as you sign right here.” He smiled, watching as you finished looking through the contract. It turned into more of a smirk as you signed, and shook his hand, his gloves over the delicate hands of one who had never had to depend on their own labors. Your voice in exchange for him to find you the perfect lover. If you don’t give up your voice, you turn into seafoam three weeks after the day you two start dating. A fine deal. He can’t lose.
“When should I start working here? You’ve got me as your worker, whenever you need!” Azul nodded,
“Every day, you’ll be working here after school until closing. You’re our only singer, after all.” He couldn’t help but restrain a laugh as you stood up with such excitement.
“Really? Oh, I’ve always loved to sing in front of crowds, that isn’t even a problem! I can even sing on the weekends if you’d like, I think it’s just so wonderful here. And, you know, the seashells remind me so much of home. You’re also from the Coral Sea, right? Which part? It'd be so interesting if turns out we used to know each other-” He let you babble on and on, ushering you out of his office all the while you kept on going. Once you were desperate enough to leave, it would be a blessing that you let him pluck your voice out from the source.
~
Azul’s third thought about you was how much of a chatterbox you were. You never seemed to shut up, always keeping going, going, going, until you started running yourself in circles. It was a blessing that he had chosen you to sing, or else you would have scared all his customers off.
“Azul, Azul! Guess what?” You waited for no explanation as you went on, “Whatever potion you gave me really works! Listen, I mentioned that one friend that I wanted to get to know, and he started to get closer to me and talk to me more and stuff. Azul, do you think he’s the one?” He sighed as you answered yourself, “No, I don’t think so. He’s got the wrong eyes, the guy I’m looking for has blue ones. You don’t think you’ve seen the real one, Azul?”
“I don’t believe we have, yet. But I’m working on it, and Jade and Floyd are both doing very well when it comes to looking for more information. You should write down whatever it is you want me to look for, specifically. Every detail helps-”
“But I’ve already told you a million times, every little detail! He’s tall, and strong-looking, and probably human, and he’s got the prettiest black hair and blue eyes!” He felt his eye twitch as you whined.
“Send me, a voice message, if you wish for it to be fully committed to memory. I’ll memorize whatever you send me.” He said, as your eyes lit up and he bit the inside of his cheek.
“Really, Azul? Really, really?” You squealing, hugging him. “I didn’t know you liked hearing me talk so much! Thank you! I’ll be sure to send you lots of things, okay? You better not forget any! Ah, I’m gonna be late to get out and sing. Come listen to me, okay? No! Better yet, I’ll send you a message tonight. How does that sound? Goodbye!” You seemed to wait for no man, nor for Azul to respond that he desired no recording from you. He could only sigh as you ran off, sitting down at his desk once more.
~
His fourth thought was how you were a good singer. He had known this since he got his eye on you, yes, but he had never stopped to appreciate it. But here he was, lying on his bed, listening to you sing a sappy song. He didn’t care for the lyrics, something silly. Probably just the short phrase you wanted someone to say to you so badly, extended for three minutes in a million different ways.
To be exact, it was 34 lines, not including repeated phrases. He had to memorize that much. He had to, that’s why he was doing it. He didn’t care that the song was talking about how beautiful the listener was, or how much you loved someone. Not even when you tried to sing a little old sailing song about an octo-mer, not even as you added on that you thought it was fun that he not the listener, not the audience would love you like it, and that you thought he was pretty beautiful, stunning, jaw-dropping, he wasn’t fat, he wasn’t unloveable, he wasn’t weird, he was only yours
His fifth thought is that you’re a good person. The perfect kind to make a deal with. He’ll get what he wants. He wants your voice.
~
Azul wants his fifth thought to be joy. He’s found the person you’re looking for. He wants that to be it.
You’ve got a boyfriend now. You don’t have time to leave him long voice memos anymore, you’re on a call with your boyfriend. You don’t have time to stay later with him, long after work, talking to him as he does work, you’re on a date with your boyfriend.
And you think he’s pretty, and sweet, and adventurous. What about Azul, huh? He’s just as much as that guy is. He’s sweet, look at how much he gives everyone. Look at how everyone goes to him for deals. Look, he’s doing so well. He went here on an adventure, he’d never gone up to land before. Aren’t you going to look? Please, look.
Please.
Azul’s fifth thought is that he can’t stand the thought of being just another member of your audience.
~
His sixth thought is how you’re gullible. Stupid, naive. So, so stupid. You sold him your voice.
Not your music.
Not your time spent singing.
You agreed to twist the terms. You agreed to sell your voice. In return, they promised that your boyfriend would love you until his last day. And Azul got your voice. You’re gullible. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ugly. Stupid. Fat. Naive. Weird. Horrible, horrible, horrible.
He hates you. He wants to. He doesn’t want to. He loves you.
~
His seventh thought is that you’re beautiful. Your voice is, at least. It joins him on his bedside now. Maybe the rest of the room can hear it sing sadly. It regrets you leaving. See, it does. You never should have left. It thought those contract terms were unfair, you lost so much more than you gained. See? Don’t you want to come back?
When Azul has it to himself, he has seafoam in his hands. Fluffy and soft. Useless. It’s useless.
In the end, he’s the one who turned into that silly, foamed-up mess that clouds where the sea meets dry land. Alone in his office with only a voice to keep him company, having it repeat the only words he wanted to hear. I love you, I love you, I love you.
His eighth thought is that he hates you.