unholy.

unscripted ask     /     always accepting.

he was about to elaborate on what he did know, an instinctual habit, to not seem as clueless as he actually was. “ fake it ‘til you make it ” had been the best way to handle human interaction so far, but jaune came to realise that not a lot slipped past raj. then again, raj wasn’t human. he appeared human, but from one partial celestial being to another, the instinctual tell that something a little more than human was instantaneous. it gave them solidarity in a world where humans hunted them for ... well, whyever humans did the things they do. it was nice though, to make a friend who was so different from his own kind, the sky - dwelling seraphim had always been an isolated sort, never reaching out to make relations despite being the products of man and something higher. raj was a nice change from the blustery fools up there who knew about nothing but keeping your head in the clouds.

well, all attempts to explain himself had been going smoothly until raj started casually taking off his clothes. sometimes jaune forgot how heart - stoppingly pretty raj was. he thought he could finally adjust to the easy sway of his hips and the piercing, rich green colour of his eyes and then he does something else to make jaune choke on his own tongue. he’s so beautiful, and he probably knew it too. the nephilim could barely string a few sentences together to answer, swallowing nervously.   ‘   n - no, they’re not really common up there.   ’   it was all he could muster before raj started the transformation, and throughout the entirety of it jaune was transfixed, awed by the beautiful shift of magic and will, and the long, glittering green tail covered with the very same scales that had jaune so transfixed upon human skin. the pink flush upon jaune’s cheeks lessened some as flustered countenance gave way to pure awe.

he had been reaching out instinctively, but recoiled with hands near his chest even when raj prompted him too, unsure now that he’d been given permission. familiar florets bloomed over jaune’s cheeks as raj came to encirle him, about as terrified as he was excited by the prospect of raj somehow hugging him without using his arms. there was excitement in his eyes as he gingerly stroked along raj’s scales, trying to see if the lighter underbelly was a different texture, the scales a different shape. they were small scales it seemed, enough so that it wouldn’t hurt or ruffle them like brushing jaune’s feathers the wrong way. they were shiny too, “ so pretty ” he would murmur, like a child’s first sunset, utterly entranced that nature could produce something so gloriously beautiful. a stray thought came to mind, but even as he asked he still kept petting along raj’s offered tail, almost absent mindedly.

     he could smell the thick scent of blood on li’s clothes as he held his father close, tears staining his cheeks as he tried again and again to call out for his mother. no sound left his lips, and he knew, he knew he would never see her face again. her face … it had been like television static, with an unfamiliar voice that was pleading for him to stop this, to save her. li took him and ran as an was crushed helplessly under wood and stone. ren’s hands clawed desperately at li as he was pulled away, and he turned to the huntsman at the sound of heavy hooves dragging across brick. once again he tried to cry out, seeing nothing but more static in lieu of hid father’s face, but no sound came forth. li pushed him away, and ren reached out hopelessly —

you’re safe now.

‘father!’ ren wasn’t sure he felt safe when he woke with a start, bleary eyes rimmed with a splotchy red hue. frantically, he blinked away his sleepiness as he searched his surroundings, magenta eyes shining dully in the low light. he realized he’d been holding tightly onto the other’s arm as his gaze settled on jaune, and he took a moment to process the situation. the lotus stared at the wolf for some time, breathing heavily. ‘jaune —’ his voice came out strained, quiet, as if he’d been screaming in his sleep. he didn’t scream in his sleep, did he? he tried again. ‘jaune, did i wake you?’ concern painted his voice, not for himself but for his teammate, and he slowly released his harsh grip. sitting up, he held his head in his hands. ‘i didn’t mean to cause an issue. go back to sleep …’

dove knew nightmares. he knew the helpless of of it, the feeling that no matter what you did, no matter what decision you made to sway the outcome in your favour, it was always one step forward, two steps back. what made it worse though, was a memory. sometimes ... you know it’s dream. sometimes, you know it’s a memory and you still try your hardest to change the outcome. you hope that if you were just a little bit faster, a little bit better, a little bit stronger — if you were just a little more than what you are, then you could be good enough to save them. but you’re not, and so waking up is sometimes the most worst part, you have to face this awful reality. at least, in your dreams they were alive for a little while longer. even that chance feels good for a second before the reality of it settled in.

he couldn’t do anything for ren. that is what made this the worst part about watching his partner in pain like this. it was a memory, and the pain was real and there, even after all these years. he could barely register ren’s grip on his hand, not because it didn’t hurt but because jaune’s worry over waking ren up without startling him was more persistent. dove was already sitting up and gently shaking ren’s shoulder with his free hand by the time he was coherent enough to ask questions. jaune’s own voice was low and soft, eyes melancholy, even though he tried to fake a reassuring smile, falling flat a moment later when even knew he couldn’t do that convincingly.

unscripted asks.     /     always acc.

          ‘     bl AKE   !! ? !!!     ’

          an undignified high pitched yelp.  dove shoots rod straight immediately as he spins around so as to not leave his back exposed to mischievous felines. he flushes, embarrassed, both hands protecting both cheeks as if preventing any more sudden attacks on his butt.

‘     ... no !     ’

          a high pitched chirping noise and it looked as if dove had effectively swallowed his tongue. awash of pink hue colouring his cheeks as he let out a flustered little puff trying to ( badly ) string together a sentence.

‘     m - mind your own beeswax !     ’