#there isn’t really gridoc here they r just friends taking funny pictures

[frozenjokes]

If I Thought About It A Little Longer, I Probably Wouldn’t Have Thrown Glitter In A Known Supervillain’s Face, However, I Did And It Felt Great And I Will Do It Again

“Cub, I just want you to know that you have nothing to worry about. I’ve got this under control.” Scar said to him over the phone, a little too much strength behind the words, overcompensating for his own concern.

“I’m not worried.”

“Everything is going to be fine, alright? Nothing bad is going to happen and Grian will come home safe and sound, I promise. You can count on me! I’ll make sure of it!”

A harsh breath left Cub’s nose. “I know. I’m not-“

“I have to go now! I’m leaving right away! I just wanted to call you so you heard the news from me first. He’s going to be okay, Cub. Really, you don’t have to fret.”

“Yeah. Bye, Scar.”

“Bye, Cub! I will see you in an hour or two with Grian in hand, and you can hold me to that! The Goat will have to get through me if he wants to harm a hair on Grian’s lovely little head, and even without my legs I’m no pushover! Not to mention that Grian’s pretty tough himself; with the two of us fighting together, The Goat won’t stand a chance! I promise you he’ll be right home, safe, sane and- and unharmed! The Goat promised not to hurt him, not as long as I was the only man who showed. Which I will be. You have nothing to worry-“

At this point Cub just hung up, rolling his eyes as he flipped back to Scar’s texts and pulled up the ransom note plus attached photos. Probably the most staged pictures he’d ever seen, really, not that he was the person meant to be fooled here. That man was already on his way to The Goat’s mansion-fortress or whatever it was, likely walking into some sort of trap. Had Scar even looked at the pictures? Cub had looked at them. A normal amount of times of course. They were baffling, nothing more, nothing less.

There were a lot to start, and in half of them Grian was making the exact face he always made when he was trying not to smile or laugh, and while his eyes were obscured by the mask in the pictures, Cub could imagine just as clearly how they would have crinkled at the edges, shining in a stark betrayal of his true feelings. But even not knowing Grian as well as Cub did, the contents were too ridiculous to be real, The Goat and ‘CuteGuy’ posing like they were in a movie, vaguely threatening in a distinctly suggestive way, not subtle in the slightest. The Goat looked nearly the same in every image, which is to say, a bit bored, but even he put on a bit of a face sometimes, like he probably wouldn’t have let this go on for so long if he hadn’t been enjoying it.

There were no heroes or villains without a performance, not really. They all loved a show.

The Goat was always holding Grian in one way or another, sometimes close, nearly face to face with Grian’s head in the crook of The Goat’s neck, his face cupped in a clawed hand (again, not subtle), or just holding Grian by the ankle, the other swooning in the most performative look of not-even-distress Cub had ever seen on his face. Cub wasn’t so sure that pose in particular didn’t hurt. Grian didn’t weigh very much, no, but that feels excessive. Did Grian like to be carried and held like that? Would he want Cub to do that, or did he just want to take fun pictures? Christ, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with this. Scar was bad enough.

For the record, these pictures made Cub feel nothing at all, however, it seemed like Scar would be getting himself into trouble, and who knows what Grian was getting up to unsupervised without him- that was no good, no no. Wasn’t The Goat’s house public information anyway? Did he have a gate? Well.

That line of thought left him at The Goat’s doorstep, probably a very stupid thing, but Cub never spent much time considering his every whim, not caring to think over whether or not whatever he was about to do was actually a good idea because usually the answer was no, and then he’d be stressing instead of having a good time. No need to worry about consequences that hadn’t happened to him yet.

This taxi was, quite frankly, a frivolous waste of money, but buses were slow and Grian had a crazy job now so Cub didn’t feel too bad about it. There was in fact a gate, but it must have already been opened for HotGuy, so Cub didn’t end up having to use the bolt cutters he brought (unfortunate). Anyone within a mile’s radius could probably hear Scar’s scandalized yell from inside, so Cub felt vindicated in his decision to follow him here. Clearly HotGuy needed the help! The front door wasn’t even closed, the action apparently taking place just inside.

Scar’s chair had been left behind in the doorway, the hero letting arrows fly from a place on the ground instead, one chinking against the right knee of his apparent assailant; ah, Cub got it. Scar’s legs seemed to have gained a mind of their own, shrugging off the arrow with only a slight limp to regain their balance before continuing in their sprint across the hall toward the grounded hero.

“Have you been hit there before, HotGuy?” The Goat’s booming sneer echoed through the hall, though Cub couldn’t quite locate the source of the sound, “Is that how they stop you nowadays, jamming your joints until you stop trailing after villains like a whiny dog? Is that why your knees click and pop every time they bend? I’d be careful, you wouldn’t want to damage them beyond repair.”

“I’m sure you’re very amused with yourself!” Scar shot back, though he also didn’t seem to know where to look. Another arrow bounced uselessly off the legs, still barreling down the hall.

“My knees also make all sorts of horrible noises, so I’m not sure how big of a deal that is,” Cub mumbled, wondering if maybe he should have waited before speaking up when Scar screamed, losing his balance and falling backwards.

“Cub!?” Scar yelped, but Cub heard Grian’s voice over the speaker as well, the two of them yelling in tandem. Oh! Good! With a little more confidence, Cub stepped inside, hoping to get a better look.

“Who the fuck is that.” The Goat spoke again over the speaker, but his voice was drowned out by Scar’s screech as his legs closed the rest of the distance, beginning a cartoonishly vicious assault against their former body. Scar dropped his bow, lunging to grapple them and stop himself from being kicked, but they thrashed violently in his arms, hero and machine rolling across the floor of the massive lobby. Well it seemed like Scar had that covered!

Cub wandered past him, curiosity pulling him forward. This place was massive, but also intricately beautiful, far nicer than Cub had expected from such an industrial looking exterior. And themed! Goats, of course. The walls were decorated in monochrome carvings and murals that seemed to tell some sort of story; maybe an account of The Goat’s species history? Cub didn’t know very much about centaurs(?)… The Goat was German, wasn’t he? Maybe the focus of the artistry was on mythology; plenty of humanoid creatures had vast religious histories from a more ancient time, and these carvings definitely looked like they were depicting divine figures. Cub never would have guessed someone like The Goat had an interest in this stuff, but in all fairness, Cub didn’t know very much beyond surface level information.

“Cub. Cub. CUB!” After some time of ignoring Grian over the speaker, Cub turned around, looking and still failing to find the source of the noise. Scar was still flailing on the ground with his legs, but Cub paid him little mind.

“What.” he replied somewhat blandly, Grian groaning in response.

The Goat cut in instead, predictably not too happy sounding, “Remove yourself from the premises. This is not a building for the traipsing around of civilians. When you get lost, perish, and start to smell, I do not wish to clean your body from the rafters.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think I’d even be able to get up that high.”

“Cub!” Someone, probably Grian, battered the mic, pushing to be heard, “I’m not- I’m fine, okay? I’m not being held against my will or anything, this was just a setup for HotGuy.”

“WHAT?” Scar’s scandalized cry echoed through the hall, and Cub heard The Goat’s grainy chuckle through the speaker as the foot of Scar’s prosthetic pushed against his face.

Cub shrugged, “If you couldn’t tell Grian was in on this before you came, I’m afraid that’s on you, man.”

“You-“ but Scar was distracted by a violent thrashing of his legs, rolling over them in an attempt to make them still. Cub started to continue his walking in the other direction, but was stopped when Grian called his name again, distress filling every letter.

“Why are you here then?” Fair question. Not that Cub had thought too much about it before coming. Ah right, the pictures. The pictures that made him feel no way at all.

“I guess I just wanted to see you.” Silence over the intercom, the only sound being Scar’s grunts and shuffling from behind him. “Now that I’m here though, I kinda want to keep looking at these walls. Did you see them? How far do all the carvings and things go? Did you ask about them, I’m curious. These must have taken years to construct, I wonder how many artists worked on them.”

“I- I didn’t-“ Grian stuttered before a soft thump came through over the speaker, presumably his head hitting a desk, “That’s.. so stupid.”

“The foyer is not a museum,” The Goat growled, though that didn’t stop Cub from walking onward. “The novelty of this event is gone. I am tired of you all. Get out of my house.” Grian mumbled something that Cub didn’t catch over the sounds of shuffling, but Doc only snorted, “Fine. I’ll escort you then.”

Scar groaned from somewhere behind him, heaving the now-limp prosthetics off of him with a soft clatter. “Cub!”

Cub didn’t acknowledge him with much more than a grunt, still walking as he looked at the displayed art, but Scar was not one to be ignored, hands slapping against the marble floors as he made his way to Cub’s side, locking his arms around his legs.

“You’re not going anywhere mister! You’re going to answer to me! You knew this was a trap? I mean- obviously it was a trap, but you knew it was staged and you didn’t say a word!”

Cub huffed a laugh, struggling a little around Scar’s grip. As much as Scar didn’t look very threatening where he stood now, Cub was still relatively certain Scar could fold him without effort, so no point in resisting. “Couldn’t have warned you if I tried. You don’t listen.”

“I listen! I’m a great listener!” Scar squeezed his legs in his passion, nearly knocking Cub over.

“I told you I wasn’t worried.”

“You were just saying that.”

“You were worried.”

“I was worried!”

“I was not. Did you look at the pictures?”

“Of course I did! Grian was greatly distressed! Did you look at the pictures? The Goat was holding him by the ankle!”

Cub snorted, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding it for Scar to see. (The pictures may or may not have already been pulled up when he unlocked his phone, but that was neither here nor there). “You don’t see anything wrong with this photo.”

“I-“ Scar screwed up his face, unsuccessfully trying to hide his embarrassment, “The Goat is holding him there! Pushing him against his neck I- Look at the distress!”

“Grian is smiling.”

“He is not smiling!”

“He is literally smiling in this picture. You can see the corner of his mouth.”

“He-“ Scar squinted, removing an arm from Cub’s legs to take his phone closer, “Well clearly he’s nervous. People smile when they’re nervous, Cub! Happens all the time!”

“I do that sometimes.”

“No you don’t.”

Cub rolled his eyes with a short laugh, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone gets nervous around celebrities! I bet your heart was just pumping during our first few encounters! And you weren’t smiling!” Scar swooned against his legs, clearly not going to come to any other conclusion here. As if meeting a celebrity is more nerve wracking than customer service.

“You do not listen. When I don’t listen it’s on purpose. When you don’t listen you don’t even know you’re not listening.”

Scar pursed his lips, looking very much like the minuscule amount of self awareness he held was waging a vicious war with his overwhelming desire to talk over everyone all of the time. “I get excited.”

“So if you miss something, it’s your fault.”

“I could be persuaded.”

“That’s annoying, Scar.”

“Ah! No!” Cub rolled his eyes as Scar fell against his legs, so he gently pushed the other away with his foot. Scar flopped to the ground, mortally wounded.

“Go on. Get yourself back to your chair.”

“Cub.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any legs.”

Cub snorted despite himself, “No, you don’t. Do you want me to bring you your chair?”

“I mean, that’s one way to solve my problem.”

“If you want someone to carry you then you can wait for Grian.”

Scar laughed, splaying out completely on the floor. “As great of an idea as that is, I have words to say to him, and I feel like saying those words in his arms would lessen the effect. Chair would be helpful though. Don’t touch the legs, they might still be dangerous.”

Cub nodded, meandering over to Scar’s chair, wheeling it back over (not without some difficulty due to the knives, which, he supposed was the intention), and holding it still as Scar dragged himself back into it. Despite the energy in his voice, he was clearly tired, arms shaking in a way that made Cub feel a little bad he hadn’t tried to help further, though, given his own abysmally weak arms and little motivation to do anything about it, he probably would have ended up damaging Scar’s chair. Either way, Scar didn’t look like he minded, going on to collect his discarded bow and legs with some trouble (he couldn’t exactly lean over to get them, could he). Despite Scar’s warning, Cub did end up helping him out with those. He wanted a better look at what The Goat had done to his prosthetics, but alas, Scar took them back far too quickly.

Speaking of the devil, it wasn’t too long before he and Scar could hear The Goat’s hooves booming down the hall, the clicks of Grian’s talons on the marble equally audible. Cub found himself eager to meet them, walking back through the foyer despite Scar’s protest, though he had no idea what to do with himself when the two of them actually came into view, The Goat and CuteGuy, not..

Well, CuteGuy hadn’t been exactly the man Cub had wanted to see. Not that Cub should have been expecting anyone else.

“Why is your pest still here,” The Goat grunted, bumping Grian’s side with one of his massive legs only to be swatted away by Grian’s wing.

“He was just waiting for me, you can cool it,” Grian huffed, and Cub felt at least a little vindicated, “I know you don’t have any friends, but they miss you when you’re held for ransom. Don’t they?” Grian smiled, something teasing, but the light, silly kind, the kind that doesn’t make you feel bad, the kind that says ‘I’m happy to see you too.’ The kind that makes your heart beat a little faster. Cub wished he could see Grian’s eyes.

“I did,” he said, a little quietly, but that seemed to have some sort of effect on Grian, wings folding in on his back in a shier motion.

“I was in on it, Cub, I’m fine.”

“Hey! Yeah! What was that about anyway!” Scar cut in and he continued to yap on, but Cub wasn’t listening, choosing to approach Grian instead, taking his hand in a brief hello, then turning his attention to The Goat who towered over both of them. He wasn’t paying very much attention to Cub, focus aligned more on Scar, a crease of amusement playing across his brow. Cub’s thoughts wandered to the pictures; they’d be everywhere, wouldn’t they? They weren’t public yet as far as Cub knew, but they would be soon. This would be a big story.

Cub was not a jealous man. (And that’s all he had to say on the matter.)

A small part of him tuned back in when Grian spoke, “Hey, The Goat wouldn’t feel the need to be so petty toward you if you just thanked him for making your prosthetics all those years ago.”

“CuteGuy-“ The Goat hissed, only to be cut off entirely by Scar’s startled cry.

“WHAT?”

Cub stopped paying attention. Really, it was safe to say he wasn’t thinking at all. His hand was in his pocket.

“CUBGUY!”

In a spectacular show of surprise and fear, The Goat bleated, the instinctive noise turning into more of a yelp as his eyes were assaulted with a fistful of glitter. Cub caught Grian’s look of utter horror before Scar yelled in tandem, almost louder than The Goat’s own distress. Cub smirked.

“Time to go!” Grian shrieked, grabbing Cub’s hand and booking it toward the front gate, entirely leaving Scar behind, the other hero releasing a frightening gasp before Cub heard the squeak of his wheels on a harsh turn. Though Cub seemed to have a harder time keeping up than Scar did, the other shooting past both of them once he gained enough momentum, but The Goat’s strangled, furious yell behind them threw Cub’s ass into gear, running faster than he had in his entire life. Perhaps now was the time for regret, but the consequences were not yet severe enough to go that far.

The Goat did not follow them. Still, the three of them ran like they were being chased until Cub physically couldn’t continue, stopping, then stumbling forward when Grian continued to pull on his arm.

“Cub-“ Grian hissed, and Scar stopped immediately, swiveling his chair around so quickly it nearly tipped over. His eyes were still so wide and frightened- Cub bet Grian’s were too; oh boy, he was getting far more out of this than he had anticipated. He still couldn’t breathe though, so there was that. Forcibly, he sat down.

“I’ll call a cab.” Scar said, voice strained to the breaking point. Yeah. That would be better.

Whatever rich person and/or superhero contact Scar had, it was damn fast, a taxi arriving only a couple minutes after the call. The driver seemed to know Scar, helping him into the passenger seat and fitting his wheelchair into the back nearly as quickly as Cub and Grian could climb into the backseat. Scar told the driver Cub and Grian’s home address, and Cub was briefly amused that Scar had it memorized, but he didn’t get a chance to linger before Scar whipped around, every muscle tensed.

“Why. Why. Why did you do that. Cub. Why did you do that. Cub. Cub. I need you to come closer so I can Shake You. Why did you do that?”

Cub looked at Grian, but he looked just as stressed. Cub shrugged. One of Scar’s eyes twitched under the mask.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I just wanted to.”

Scar stared. Cub stared back. Scar put his head in his hands. Similarly, Grian let his head fall limp against the seat with a grunt. Well! This was a good time to change the subject

“I’m glad we’re all here, actually. I think you two have a couple things to work out and you’re not doing a very good job of talking on your own. I’m not looking for a forgiveness party or anything, I just think we should all say what we have to say. I’ll go first. I want us all to be friends.”

“Wait a minute, Cub-“ Grian started sharply, but Scar cut him off with a wail.

“I want to be friends!”

“Great. Continue.” Cub spoke before Grian could, and Scar didn’t have to be fast, loud enough to drown the both of them out.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, er- CuteGuy- I didn’t want to! I didn’t know what to do when you met Micah and I just wanted to make it better and I wanted you to feel safe, but we also got along so well and you were goofy and fun and you liked me, but you didn’t like HotGuy and I didn’t want to lose that, I just wanted you to- I don’t know! I wanted you to know I wasn’t bad. I don’t want to be bad. But I was selfish and I took it way too far- I just didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you.”

Grian sighed harshly, “You want Cub. I’m in your way.”

“Maybe- I mean, you weren’t the easiest person to get along with, but if that was ever true, it isn’t anymore. I don’t see it that way. I like you, CuteGuy. You. I really liked getting to know you personally, I just hated that you couldn’t know me. That the me I wanted you to see was just- impossible. I want to be friends. I want to get to know you better, and I would be happy to do so as partners, and I’m not just saying that. We don’t have to be perfect friends first to go on a date, we can do whatever we want. And if you want to make out with Cub or whatever, I don’t care! I’d just like to know about it. We don’t have to throw labels around if you don’t want to.”

“For the record, I also don’t care,” Cub waved a lazy hand. Grian frowned. Cub once again wished he could see his eyes, hand inching toward Grian’s side, but he stopped himself. Not with a stranger around. “It’s not a trap, Grian. You don’t have to commit to anything. And if you want to commit and change your mind, that’s okay too. God knows I don’t know exactly what I want.”

Grian hunched his shoulders, and Cub could see the places where his feathers were puffing out under the cover. “I don’t. Know.” He turned a fiery gaze toward Scar, “I like you. But you suck. And I can’t just. Get over it.”

“You don’t have to have anything to do with me at the start. If you want.”

Cub shrugged. “I don’t know if I want that. Not just a complete shut out I mean. That would be awkward. I’d feel bad.”

“I need to get out of this car.” The sound of Grian’s winded voice tightened Cub’s chest, but Grian was already grasping at the car door, feeling for the handle in an unfamiliar place.

“Grian, wait- we don’t have to talk about this anymore. You can stay.”

“I need to go back to work.”

“Pull over.” Scar spoke before Cub could, more somber, quiet. The driver did as he was told. Grian did not say goodbye. Cub wasn’t even sure if he touched the curb before shooting off into the sky.

The car was silent for a long while after that. The apartment was painfully far away. This wasn’t.. This wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted this to work.

“I just want this to work.”

Scar turned around, features soft. Sympathetic. “It might not. Either way.. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.” He sighed, turning back to face the road. “We’ll figure it out.”