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Once In A Lifetime: JamiAzu Prompts

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The water was tantalizing, lapping determinedly at Jamil's sore feet. You'd think he'd be used to burning hot sand against his skin. But running back and forth across it while managing a festival is very different from standing still and watching annoying classmates splash around as if they were three. His eyes, pleading the sun to cool, flicker in angst, watching an entire dorm making fools of themselves. Neglecting what they really should be doing. Well, he tried what he could. It'd be hell when Najma found out, if she doesn't know already; word gets around quick. Meaning Kalim. Most likely.

Recalling his juvenile 'master', he sneers as a large eel abomination dunks the former underwater just to resurface moments after, chuckling and splashing back.
What would happen if Kalim didn't come back up? How long would it take for others to notice he wouldn't come back up? Would there be noise or silence first? Who would say something first?

How long would it take for someone to blame Jamil? For not paying attention? Or perhaps he was the one to do it? What would they say?

Jamil would just become more hated and become utterly worthless.

The one that causes him pain would be gone, only to cause him even more pain in his absence.

Stop! What on earth are these thoughts? They won't end up getting any place good. He just came down from a damn overblot- he'd surely die having another.

He doesn't really want any deadly harm to come to Kalim. Jamil's purpose of living would be gone. No one would feel bad for blaming him. RIght?

The only other person not in the water was Azul.
He stood with his arms crossed, leaning slightly against one of the many cooling palm trees. His glasses glinted in the sunlight and wore no determinable expression.

He's in Octavinelle, why is he not swimming? Jamil could guess.

Azul was someone Jamil doesn't exactly hate, but certainly resents. Due to Kalim holding Scarabia back, the marine themed dorm hardly had any competition with grades.
Of course, Jamil could not deny Azul's intelligence, especially after what just happened. But he always has a smirk pointing at him, mocking him. He'll shoot a glare at Jamil during classes, trying to see through him and pick him apart. Maybe find all his weaknesses. Jamil would not be surprised if he had notes about everything Jamil has done in his presence- trying to put a resistant puzzle into the right order. Fair enough, Jamil may just do the same thing.
There's certainly more to Azul than what Jamil knows, a fabrication of sorts. Jamil wanted to crush that façade, and ruin him.

Something turns, Jamil has been looking in one direction for far too long. Sky blue eyes clash into Jamil's blazing stare. Azul's lips curve into a smirk, his mole lifting up his lips. Jamil has been caught.

Sand squelches as Jamil stomps away, attempting to disguise his potential blush with a scoff.

How unpleasant.

Chapter Text

There were too many potions stacked in the labs. Accumulating together making a revolting petrol-like scent that flooded all your senses. Despite working in this room perhaps over 100 times, Azul couldn't get used to it. After sitting in the classroom for a while the sense would dull, but it took getting used to every single time.

Azul scrunched up his noise, trying to close the gates so the smell wouldn't infiltrate in further. It was one of his favourite classes - and his best one- but they really should do something about the smell. It surely wasn't hygienic.
He pondered this - making sure to add a teaspoon of laurel berries to the mixture every two minutes - when his eyes were caught by a table two to his left. Jamil was at that table, looking to be ignoring his groupmates who were busy on their phones.

The class was in the midst of completing a potion of regeneration advancement 2. You had to be careful with this one as it was prone to being a little fiery if not tended to properly. Azul was not worried about this, he had done this plenty of times.

Jamil seemed to be the only one in his group doing the work- the other two distracted by their phones and friends. Not to say Azul wasn't in a similar situation, but at least one of them was willing to stir and record some notes. Jamil didn't look in the least bit upset about his lack of assistance, perhaps it was preferable on his end. Azul knew enough about the man that he could do without too much socializing. Something the two had in common.

In the bright lab, with Jamil's hair pushed to sit over his left shoulder, Jamil's nape shone. Azul had certainly taken notice of Jamil's beauty before - it was undeniable. His honey skin was without any blemishes or chips. It looked as soft as silk - to be handled with care.
Would it feel just as it looked?

A part of Jamil's bangs fell down onto Jamil's face, prompting him to sweep it back over his ear. Azul was sure to short circuit any moment now.

Then, as if the Great Seven wanted to punish Azul ever further, for whatever reason, Jamil straightened his back, loosened his ponytail to free his hair, and pulled it back up high to harshly put it back into a tight ponytail. Exposing more of his neck and upper back.

POOF!

Azul's next sight was a gooey velvet red substance stuck to his prescription safety googles. He had forgotten to add the final teaspoon of laurel berries. The potion had collapsed.
Laughter and exclamations of shock rebounded around the pungent classroom.

Had THE Azul Ashengrotto really failed to control a potion mixture? The student top of the class?

Wiping the goop off, Azul could make out the faces of his groupmates, affected by the explosion by still covering their chuckles.

Landing back into view of the culprit of Azul's distraction, Jamil had a large ridiculing smirk coating his face.

Azul suddenly felt faint. No one will ever let him forget.

Chapter Text

His worst class is undeniably flying. He just can not do it. Another factor being he also just doesn't like it. Only in recent years he has fully adapted to walking on only two limbs. How could he possibly adjust to keeping balance mid-air? Only a few metres off the ground and his stomach would fall deep. His feet would ache as blood rushed to them almost immediately every time. And even a little speed, his glasses would fog from his heavy breathing.

Azul knows he sucks at physical education, but it isn't a priority so he doesn't care to try harder in the area. Which has been a fatal mistake.

Vargas had taken notice of Azul's apathic attitude to flying and was somewhat personally insulted by it. After a melodramatic conversation, Vargas decided Azul needed one on one time with flying assistance. But of course Vargas didn't want to help himself. So, he turned around, pointed, and deemed a rando student to 'tutor' Azul. Said random student turned out to be Jamil. Of all people... Though it could be worse...

Now the two stand together in the center of the large green oval. To be fair, Jamil doesn't look pleased either. He probably has much more important errands to run, (Kalim).

"Did you even pay attention to how to a hold a broomstick?" Jamil curls his lip downwards. Honestly, he wasn't born with eight limbs to get him around. What does he know?

"You need to keep up your balance." Really now?

"I'm trying to do so." Azul tries not to come off as upset as he rocks around tremendously on the broom. This is already so awkward.

A tired exhale is let out as Jamil wipes his forehead. 

"Whatever, just get on the back of my broom and watch what I do." Oh no, this could not be worse than anything else. 

Azul knows Jamil is a good flyer; possibly due to his natural athleticism or because of the magic carpets in Scalding Sands. He knows he can trust Jamil to not let him fall, but the thought still made Azul quite sweaty.

Jamil has already gotten on his broom and lifts up an eyebrow. Swallowing his pride, Azul sits behind him, making sure not to inch too close. 

Another exhale. "Put your hands on my shoulders, you already have bad enough balance." Azul does so. His skin has seemed to become the start of slim waterfalls. 

Jamil kicks off the peaceful ground and Azul's stomach eats itself instantly. The two are no more than five metres of the ground when Azul feels his clutch tighten across Jamil's shoulders and scoots cautiously forward. 

His glasses cling to face for dear life. Why on earth didn't he take them off? Idiot.

Jamil doesn't seem to care about Azul's tightened hold. 

"You see you how I'm placing my hands on the stick? You don't have to have that much of a firm grip; that'll create sweat and unwanted friction. So it's better to- Azul? Are you listening?"

Bile has filled every corner of Azul's mouth. Tasting of deep fried crab and acid gut fluid. 

He feels as if his mind has been emptied out completely. Eyes will not move from the scene below him. 

Everything is so very far away. Unreachable by hand. All the strength in Azul's limbs start to feel sickeningly light. 

Azul can not do this. He is going to faint. Or vomit first. This wasn't a good idea. Why did he agree to this again? Well, Jamil's hair is very soft against his cheek.

"Azul?!"

Consciousness falls away...

Chapter Text

The architects of NRC had gone for real grass instead of fake grass for the school ovals. Jamil thanks them for doing so, the smell of natural grass is much more pleasant than cheap plastic. It's also much softer and nicer to sit on. Better for resting a head on.

Jamil had had a five second blank when Azul's grip had loosened around his shoulders. He felt his heart freeze when Azul's body had started to drop away from his own. Thankfully, his reflexes kicked in and had been able to catch Azul's torso, gently steering the broom back to the surface. Once on the ground, Jamil had initially wanted to go straight to the infirmary but thought it was best for Azul to gain back consciousness first. 

Jamil knows Azul isn't the most comfortable flyer, but he didn't think it would cause Azul this much distress. Azul seems so strict about showing vulnerability, especially so suddenly. Heights must be something that deeply agitates him. 

It's only been a few minutes since the two settled on the ground, but Jamil hopes Azul wakes up soon. Even sitting with Azul is unsettling. After this, will Azul even be able to look at him anymore? The potion incident didn't help either. A smirk pops up on Jamil's unwillingly. That will never be forgotten. 

He'll wait two more minutes, if Azul doesn't wake up by then; Jamil will take him to the infirmary. Which would make the situation more awkward when Jamil has to explain it all to Crewel. He doesn't want to be more associated with Azul more than he already is. Kalim would start inviting him and the Leeches over frequently. Anything to avoid that from happening. 

Azul's breathing has tuned down to a regular pace, his chest moving slower. Jamil feels his own chest loosen up.

Then, Azul's eyes flutter open and he sits up alarmingly straight. Jamil rushes to support Azul's back but quickly reclines before touching.

"Jamil?"

"Yeah."

A few moments of silence.

"What just happened?" The truth would be the best option.

"..You were on the back of my broom and fainted when we went too high..."

Azul hides his face in the palms of his hands, a slight dampness settles there.

Well, Jamil was right; this is unbearably awkward. They aren't close, though they always seem to end up together. Jamil finds himself hoping again that this doesn't put a further strain on their relationship. Seeing Azul like this is very personal. Jamil can't imagine what Azul must be thinking. Though a small part of him wishes he did. Then he'd have an inkling of what to do. Of how to comfort him.

What? No.

"Jamil." Azul has uncovered his face, the glasses only letting a tint of red rimmed eyes escape. Jamil exerts his eyes on the boy beside him.

"I appreciate your efforts to tutor me, but I don't think this will work." Glasses are pushed up. "Please never mention this."

And with that, Azul stands, dusts himself off, and without a glance, walks off the field. 

Oh.

Yeah, that makes sense. Why would Azul want to discuss anything about what just happened? What did Jamil expect to happen? To continue to try help Azul fly? To offer moral support? Of course not. They are only classmates..

But, as Jamil walks back to Scarabia's dorms, he can't help but feel frustrated and upset. His head aches.

But why?

 

Chapter Text

Jamil wasn't quite sure how he ended up here, he certainly didn't want to be here. There was much more important things to be attending to, like making sure Kalim doesn't rile up Vil for adding in his own dance moves to the VDC choreography. Though Jamil couldn't blame him, Vil's choreography was so strict and boring - it didn't leave you feeling energized afterwards. Jamil was instead sitting on a rotting couch that had the distasteful odour of a cat, MC had just asked to speak with him alone. The two had never spoken together in privacy before, their relationship was still uncomfortable from the last overblot.

Nothing had been said yet, MC was just staring at Jamil with no expression, but it seemed questioning. MC was another one of those people who tried to figure out everyone around them, like Jamil. But MC had come to a deadend with figuring out Jamil. He was aware of this, he'd always been good at swallowing his external emotions, he didn't want others to have that control over him.

MC cleared their throat.

"What's with you and Azul?"

????? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Jamil shuffled his legs.

"Excuse me, I'm not sure what you mean?"

MC frowned.

"Well, I always see you two glaring at each other from afar. And you just seem to not like each other at all." Oh. It was that noticeable? Maybe Jamil wasn't as good at hiding as he thought he was...

"You always get this irritated look on your face when he talks to you. But a different look from the one you give Kalim."

Two different looks? Just how observant is this person? Jamil will have to keep a closer eye on them to avoid these mishaps. MC stared at the roof, seemingly pondering.

"You know... It might be because you both have that power and control behaviour of sorts? Or the want of it at least."

Jamil clenched his fists at the insinuation. Azul wasn't like him at all! How dare MC call him out on his overblot behaviour, he wasn't in his head properly! And further more to compare it to Azul's... The two have nothing in common!

"Even your unique magic is similar, in the controlling aspect."

Huh? That slowed Jamil down a notch.

He only knew the bare minimum about Azul's magic, even though it was a common gossip topic amongst classmates.

Control? Yes, that's pretty much the whole gist of Jamil's unique magic. But Azul's...what was it again? Was it really that close to his?

He hadn't heard much about Azul's overblot, he was good at avoiding that kind of talk. Had it been as damaging as his own? How was it provoked?

"Since you're not going to answer me, I'll leave first. I just found it strange." MC huffed and left the small toom to join back with the others.

Similar, maybe... Should Jamil ask Azul about it?