whisperwritingstuff

[whisperwritingstuff]

so @varanere00 and myself are back with more hfs e/l times for y'all. which i must inform you. have become increasingly hornier and more polyhermits as we go along so uh. be ready for that! but yes. doc is here. yaaaaay!

------

'Cub: Int1rn%ls %1ssed up. Ph%sing hurt|||. Hot#quy n1eds %ntibiotics %gainst %spir%tion pne̸͍͆u%oni%\'

The message popping up on Doc's HUD is not something he wanted to see over breakfast. He drops his head onto Ren's shoulder with a groan, his husband using his lower creeper torso as a bench to sit on at the breakfast table where he has it canted sideways and curled up.

"What's the matter, darling, hm?" Ren takes one hand off his coffee cup to rub the base of Docs horn.

"It's Cub." Doc mutters into Ren's shoulder. "He's somehow managed to fuck up his internals so bad I got a messed up text from him. Somezing about phasing hurting and Hotguy. Now I has to go check up on him. Them."

"Poor baby." Ren hums. "Why don't you go get dressed, and I'll pack you up a bite to eat for on the way."

Still grumbling about his missed breakfast and friends who can't even wait until decent hours of the day to have medical and or technical emergencies, Doc accepts a kiss from Ren, and extracts himself from his husband to go get ready. Someone has to save those idiots from themselves after all.

Still grumbling about his missed peaceful breakfast, Doc lands in front of the building Cub has his lair in. Folding his wings down and letting them drape across his back half deflated, he pulls out his access key, heading down the back entrance to the lair through what looks like an inconspicuous service door.

Since Cub had mentioned Hotguy in his message, and he can never be too sure of what that crazy dude has done now, he refrains from calling for him by name when entering.

"Vex! Are you here?" he calls him by his villain name instead. "I have come here just to fix you up, so you better be here!" Figuring the med lab is the best place to look for them, he heads off to see if he can find them.

Scar is jolted out of his not-quite-thoughts by shouting and the door to the room opening. His first instinctive action is to hold Vex closer and growl at the intruding presence, prickly and wary and ready to pick a fight if he needs to, even without his usual weapons to hand. (Something about that isn't right. He ignores it.)

What comes through the door is not helping with that either. One of the tallest people (People? This- this hulking green monstrosity with horns and glowing red eyes and metal all over it was a person, right? Not some creation or monster that broke into Vex's lair?) he has ever seen rushes in, loud and shouting words Scar can't make out. It puts all Scar's senses on high alert, even if he can't figure out what they are telling him amid the torrent of noise, low growl building in the back of his throat. He's up on his knees, thighs straining to hold him there, protectively clutching Vex to his side.

As expected, Doc finds Cub and Hotguy in the med lab, the small side area reserved for non-experimental treatments. What he does not expect is finding them on the floor, huddled together, cuddling, or Hotguy actually growling at him.

Pushing away his aggressive creeper instincts to growl back with the ease of long years of practice, Doc sinks down first onto both front knees and then to fully lay his lower torso on the ground, front paws loafed beneath him. He hunches his shoulders down and dims his cybernetic eye down to appear less frightening to the obviously spooked hero. Who does not look like he should be out of bed, the way his legs are trembling just from kneeling.

"What happened?" he asks, using the soft tone he practiced specifically for scared young ones.

Scar pulls Vex back a little further when the hulking mass of muscle and entirely too horselike limbs moves. Even if he quickly comes to realize that motion is downward, like it's settling in instead of planning to approach.

Scar's breathing stays even only because of long hours of practice, needed for high stakes bow shots, though Scar can't manage to calm his legs in the same manner. His lung hurts less, at least, when he hadn't even realized it was hurting more before.

Words. This might be a person after all? A person-horse? There's a word for that, but it vanishes into Scar's brain before he can grab it. Unimportant.

"He. Got bit. And something else. Maybe iron?" Scar says, defensive and suspicious still. Vex hadn't agreed or disagreed with that, and Scar doesn't know what else to call the pain and weakness. Just a bite shouldn't do that, right? Even if it did look delightfully gorey...

It doesn't occur to him to mention his own issues. He'll manage. Vex is the priority here. Scar's gut is currently having a protracted brawl of a fistfight over the urge to think this stranger can help versus the urge to think he's a danger to Vex.

"Iron, you say?" Doc has no idea what Hotguy is talking about. Iron should not hurt Cub. Though Cub did say something about wanting to use fairy stories as inspiration for some of what Vex is, so maybe it's something he made up. What Doc does know is that he needs to get Cub alone, so he can access his implants without giving away the secret to Hotguy. Ideally, he would like to take Cub back to his personal clinic, but that does not seem to be an option. At least Cub's med lab is the second place he would choose to be in in case of an unknown medical crisis, after his own.

"What do you say we put him on that nice bed right there, and the I can take a look at him? See what's hurting him?" Doc does not for one second think Hotguy is capable of standing, much less lifting Cub on his own. "Will you let me help you with that?"

"Maybe." Scar isn't sure. He wishes he knew exactly what the issue was. Then maybe he could handle it instead of this loud stranger. Well, less loud now.

Scar glances at the bed, the one he'd come from, but snaps his eyes right back to the discomfort loaf to check for any movement while he was looking away. He finds none.

"I can-" In the middle of protesting that he can handle it, Scar is interrupted by a quiet moan from Vex. For a moment that draws his entire attention to Vex, but he forces himself to redirect at least his periphery attention to keep an eye and ear out for movement from the intruder.

"Vex?" He can't allow himself to be nearly as tender as he'd been when they were alone, but Scar's voice still softens some when he addresses Vex. Who seems to at least be somewhat capable of focusing on him now.

Scar helps turn Vex to look at the horse-man-thing. "Do you know this guy, Vex?" He asks, tone firm and serious, but not harsh. Maybe... Maybe Scar can let the intruder help, if he's someone Vex knows.

Vex really needs better security, Scar thinks. If himself, and now this guy, can get in, who knows what other dangers could come after Vex in here? Scar doesn't like that thought one bit.

"Doc." Relief floods through Cub at seeing the big creepertaur cyborg. His hand still hurts, and his neck is throbbing. What parts of his wings he can feel are either making his skin crawl, or downright agony. He just needs to be alone with Doc for a few minutes, so he can explain what happened.

Scar slumps into Vex once he confirms that this is Doc, that he knows this person. Called him here to help them, even. Just lets all the tension melt out of him, his thighs no longer carrying him, no longer holding him up.

"Please take care of him." Scar loosens his hold on Vex and pushes him gently to the green loaf- Doc? Vex called him Doc, right? He's heard that name before, somewhere. It tickles something in the back of his mind, something with flower quilts on beds and cool breezes through garden windows.

Doc picks up Cub once he is pushed at him, smoothly pushing himself back up onto his paws as he does. Hotguy is still on the floor, not making any attempt to get up as Doc lays Cub out on the cot. Opens his costume enough to place his cybernetic hand on Cub's chest over his heart, and scans him with the sensor suits built into both his eye and his hand. Elevated blood pressure and heartrate, consistent with pain. Body temperature at a normal low for Cub, which stops causing alarms on Doc's interface once he switches his patient profile to the one custom made for Cub and adjusted to fit his altered baseline.

He puts his palm over Cubs forehead and spreads his fingers out over Cub's head next, doing a basic brain activity scan and a brief handshake with his internal systems. Brain scans again show activity consistent with high to moderate pain levels within normal parameters for Cub, but the system handshake throws up an unknown error message on Doc's side, confirming that the issue is most likely one of his implants, given the lack of physical damage.

With Cub stable for the moment, he turns to Hotguy, who is still in the same position on the floor. That does not bode well. Doc takes a moment to send a query back to his home systems, if Hotguy has a patient file with him. He does. Downloading it, he skims it, to find permanent damage to the legs, resulting in intermittent mobility issues. Given the shaking and the way the hero still hasn't moved from the floor, Doc assumes he is currently dealing with a flare up, probably leaving him unable to walk or even stand.

"Can you stand?" he asks Hotguy never the less, not wanting to make assumptions. "Because I'm going to need privacy to treat him properly. You know, without..." Doc gestures vaguely in the area of his own face, implying that he needs to take off Cub's mask. Hotguy also looks like he needs medical attention, with him being mentioned in the context of needing medications in Cub's message just compounding that.

Scar immediately bristles about Doc trying to kick him out of the room, winding up to- The implication of removing Vex's mask brutally kicks the entire legs out from under Scar's argument, though, leaving Scar sagging down.

He reaches around until he can find the towel, discarded at some point along the way, pulling it close and clutching it to his chest. "I can- I can't see him from down here. I won't look." Scar moves to cover his eyes with the towel again. If he can't see Vex's face, he can stay, right? That makes sense.

"It's not just a matter of seeing him." Doc explains. "It's also a matter of things I need to discuss with him and-"

"Let him stay." Cub interrupts. "At least while you take a look at the bite and him. He's also still under observation for smoke inhalation, its been eleven hours." At least Cub isn't trying to sit up, fully knowing Doc would just pin him down.

"Smoke inha-" Doc turns to Hotguy, making an effort to swallow down the bubbling fury at being directed to a bite over being informed of something so serious. "Next time, please lead with something like that. C- Vex, what have you done to treat him?"

"High flow oxygen until tests confirmed CO poisoning and hypoxia, then hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Pre-oxygen arterial blood sample is in the freezer, got everything protocolled in the lab computer." Cub informs him over Hotguy's protests.

Scar thumps at the unloaf's hoof-area, when Doc starts to say something other than Vex to call Vex. While also pushing the sound way waaaaaaaaaaaaaay down in his brain until he can't find it anymore. How's Scar supposed to trust this guy with Vex's face when he barely seems able to handle Vex's name? (It's not jealousy. It's not. It can't be jealousy, so it isn't.)

"I'm fine. Vex rearranged my guts and whatever and I'm all good." Scar protests again after Vex finishes saying all that stupid jargony stuff.. Scar still wishes he'd been more able to focus on Vex's hand in his chest.

At least he gets to stay, for now. Scar leans into the side of the cot, both to be closer to Vex and for support.

"Rearranged your-" Doc looks to Cub for an explanation, convinced them hatefucking could in no way have resulted in this. He makes plans to pester Cub about this later.

"Phased a foreign object out of his bronchial pathways. It's in the sample container." Cub makes a vague gesture groundwards. Where there is in fact a small sample container, that Doc collects with a front paw and sets on the counter, to be investigated later. What's important is that it's no longer inside a body.

"Why. Why can you not be like this?" He asks Cub, fully knowing that normal is never an option with either of them. "Now show me that bite wound that has you so worried." Cub points to a fresh bandage on his neck. Pulling it off gently, Doc finds a bite wound that looks suspiciously human in origin. It's also not as fresh as the bandage implies, swollen and red with infection that speaks of improper cleaning.

"Did you... bite him?" He can't help but bore his gaze into Hotguy.

"Hey! That's mine!" Scar protests, trying to lunge-grab for the lung debris box but just kind of faceplanting into the cot supports instead. Which leaves him sulking and grumping. That's twice now that something that came out of his body was taken away from him, no fair.

Scar flips his hair, purposely casual under Doc's stare. "He became bitten while in my presence." He answers, arch and haughty. It's a significant deliberate effort for Scar to not to lick his lips.

He's pretty sure he hears Vex snort from up on the table.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Doc is pinching the bridge of his nose. "Both of you are getting a full workup, independently of each other. And you-" he turns to Hotguy. "You can have whatever was pulled out of your lung back if, and only if, the thing is not organic and has been cleaned and sterilized. After your checkup. Which you will be having. Alone." He fixes Hotguy with a stare, knowing Cub won't fight him on this. They'd hashed that out long ago, that if Doc makes a medical decision, Cub will abide by it.

"I don't know, what did you do?" Scar quips back, not caring if it makes sense or not. "Who made you the boss of what comes out of my lungs?" Sullen griping from Scar, feeling a building resentment of Doc having seemingly decided he gets to come in here and boss them around. Scar didn't agree to that. Only one person gets to boss him around right now. Why can't Doc just take care of Vex and leave.

"Vex did, when he called me in because both of you needed professional medical attention. And I assume you listen to him." Doc is prepared to sedate Hotguy if necessary. "I assume the imaging you did to find the debris is also on file?" He turns back to Cub, who nods. "Okay. Tell you what. I am going to review that data, and then I am separating you to for your exams. And no, that is not up for debate." he heads off the protests he can see Hotguy winding up for.

Leaving the two of them to hash that out, Doc heads over to the medlab computer, plugging into the usb port located next to the keyboard for this exact purpose for easier interfacing.

Vex... put Doc in charge of him? Vex doesn't want to be in charge of him? Is Vex getting rid of him after all, giving him away to the bossy-sharp man-horse? Scar's supposed to listen to Vex, he knows that much, so if Vex wants to give him away, because he did bad, or Vex got bored, or-

Scar doesn't want to be given away.

Scar forces himself to not shake and tremble, though his legs do twitch a bit. They haven't much stopped doing that for a while here though, so it's whatever.

Instead of focusing on any of that, Scar grips the cot, and hauls himself hand-over-hand up the side of it, and onto the surface. He's had plenty of practice scaling his own furniture with just his arms, anyway. And he ignores any startled noises from Vex, to just tuck himself into Vex's side.

"I'll do better. I will." He swears softly to Vex. He can do better, so Vex doesn't give him away. "M'sorry." He doesn't know what he's apologizing for.

"You don't need to do better. Just listen to Doc until the checkups are done. Then we can watch movies, or something." Vex pats his back softly.

Scar suppresses a whine, nodding to the instruction. Movies would be nice… Scar lets his eyes close and melts under the patting, pretending to himself for a minute that's what they're already doing.

Looking over the data, Doc surmises that Cub had done a decent job, with the tools and information he'd had. He will still be doing his own workup, and imaging, but that will most likely be just a precaution. While he's here, he also takes the liberty of turning off the security cameras in the room. Just to avoid that headache later.

Returning to the cot, he finds the two of them cuddling, as expected. Seems Cub got Hotguy to go along with the medical necessities, through whatever means.

"You two ready?" He gets two nods, one a lot more hesitant than the other. "Alright. Hotguy, I'm starting with you, so Vex, if you can stand, please give us some space,"

"No can do man. I think you're going to have to carry me." Cub says, shaking his head. Which, while annoying, is not an unexpected turn of events.

"Alright then. Let's get you somewhere comfortable." Doc lifts Cub off of the cot, leaving Hotguy there alone. After a short debate on how to best carry Cub when he doesn't know how his wings are doing, and given how Cub was laying on his side on the cot, the answer is probably not too hot, he decides to deposit Cub on his creeper back, leaning against Doc's upper torso between his own partially softened wings.

Scar visibly grits his teeth so as not to disagree with Doc and insist Vex be treated first. Scar feels fine! Totally normal for him!! Vex can't even stand...

Scar's listening, though. He's being good. He just has to get though this, and then- Vex wouldn't say that just to get him to go along with being gotten rid of, would he? Just to get away from Scar? No, no, surely not. Surely he-

Scar shoves the recent stretch of time without Vex before this down and out of his mind. This is different. It has to be different. While Doc is gone, Scar touches his collar, taking comfort in the texture of it under his fingers. His tiny piece of Vex. His ticket to stay here.

Scar listens for Doc approaching, so that before even seeing him, Scar will drop his hand back down away from the collar, though. Focusing on just getting through this. Scar can do that. He's done harder before. He can.

"So what is the issue? I assume it's the internals, and you didn't want to talk with him there. Also, I am assuming you can actually walk?" Doc asks, once the door has closed behind them.

"Yeah, you'd be right on both accounts." Cub's arms come up to circle Doc's waist in a clear sign he still expects a ride to his destination. "Took a bit of a nasty shock to the wings this morning, ever since then something has been on the fritz. I thing it's the sensory interface, but I can't be sure without testing."

"Hm. What problems are you having?" Doc is more than happy to carry Cub around. "Also, where we headed?"

"Living room? I'm constantly having pins and needles in my wings, as well as pain, and when I phased my hand into Hotguy to pull out the debris, it was like dipping my hand into hot acid instead of the usual cold water." Cub rattles off, while Doc heads in the direction of the living room. "I've also been getting completely fucked up error messages whenever I query a report after it happens."

"That sounds like more that just the sensory interface. You probably haven't tried a system restart, have you? Don't have to shut down everything, just the parts running software." The living room isn't very far, just down the hall. Doc brings Cub over to the couch, and helps him down. "Maybe try that while I'm checking over Hotguy."

"Yeah, alright." Cub hops down and stretches. "Recon I can take off the wings or rather not?"

"Leave 'em on for now, if they are where you have your issues. We can take them off later, when it's your turn." Doc turns back, lingering in the door to answer Cub's question.

"Sounds good, sounds good." Cub flops onto the couch, face down.

"How's your charge, anyways?" Doc asks. His answer is a muffled 'full' and a thumbs up over the back of the couch, which he considers good enough. He heads off back to the med lab to check over Hotguy.

Before heading back into the med lab, Doc takes a moment to compose himself. Work to actively step into that mindset that is open and encouraging, the one he worked hard to perfect for moments like this. When he is faced with scared and unsure heroes and villains alike, whom he is asking to trust him with their identity on nothing more than his word.

Opening the door, he finds Hotguy still on the cot, nervous, but hiding it well.

Doc settles down a good bit from the cot, not close enough to touch anyone on it, but not too far to have a conversation with the distance feeling awkward. He loafs his paws under himself again, partially because it really is comfortable, and partially because he has been told it makes him look like a big cat in a very disarming way that makes him more approachable.

"So. I figure I start this off by telling you I have checked Vex over, and I know what the issue with him is. It's not someting that needs my immediate attention, and he has started taking care of it after I got him started."

Scar pushes himself upright with his arms, wanting to at least be sitting on the cot instead of laying before he has to deal with the evil horse-cat man. Focus. He pulls a Hotguy-like calm over himself. Smooth. Breathe. Just get through it.

He imagines Doc on fire. Which is nice.

"What is it?" Scar needs to know everything about Vex's condition, what happened, how to fix it, how to prevent it.

"I can't tell you about his health without his permission, anymore than I can tell him about yours without your permission. No use discussing with me, that is one thing I will not budge on."

"He already did all his stupid machine things to me, it's not like there's anything he doesn't know." Scar scoffs, telling himself that's not arguing, just stating a fact. And not thinking about Vex not wanting him to know things. Of course Vex wouldn't want him to know things, he's- He's not really Vex's archnemesis right now, but he usually is. He has to remind himself of that.

Doc does not sigh.

"What Vex did is like putting on a bandage and pulling a splinter. Just instead of a cut he stopped from bleeding, he put enough oxygen in your body so you don't get any damaged cells from lack of it, and instead of pulling out a piece of wood, he pulled out a bit of something that was blocking part of your lungs from getting enough air." he explains patiently.

"What I want you to take away from this is that he is getting the medical care he needs, and that he wants you to get the medical care you need. To do that, I am asking you to trust me. I'm sure Vex will answer any questions you have for him later."

"None of that sounds like the pokey picture box." Scar mumbles sullenly. He's sure the picture box tattled all sorts of his medical secrets to Vex. Not that they're really secrets, just stuff that's boring to talk about that make people get weird about him. Still. He doesn't need Doc making a million unrelated words at him like he's stupid, he's sure whatever else Vex did was fine, it's just a totally different topic.

"Fine." Scar sets his lips in a flat line. He doesn't really trust Doc, but he can act like it, at least. Hopefully that still counts as listening to him.

Scar really, truly doubts Vex would answer any questions Scar asks later. Vex didn't when Scar was trying to ask what was wrong earlier. ...maybe Doc is right not to tell him, when Vex clearly doesn't trust Scar. Not that he has to tell Doc that. Resignation tips Scar's head down slightly while he just waits for Doc to get on with it.

Deciding to shelve the identity issue for later, Doc unloafs himself and closes the distance to the cot, reloafing to not loom over it with his full height. As had done with Cub, he sets his metal hand on Hotguys chest, measuring breathing, heartrate, and bloodpressure. He does reposition it multiple times, to get a good 'listen' on the right lung, though he is less listening in the traditional sense using his ears, and more using sensors to measure and evaluate the vibrations one would normally listen for with much more accuracy. Both lungs sound good, for being barely twelve hours post smoke inhalation.

Doc checks the burns on Hotguys hands and arms next, taking the chance to measure blood oxygen saturation when handling his hands. All burns are rather mild, nothing more than second degree burns in small areas, all already treated with regenerating burn cream. Nothing further for him to do here.

"Any recent injuries?" he asks, placing his metal hand on Hotguy's forehead and cupping his fingers around his head. "Especially hitting your head?"

Scar holds himself as still as he can. Which is very still for his upper body, and still the occasional twitch from his legs, while Doc does whatever he's doing with his hand. Not the weirdest checkup Scar's ever had. He breathes slow breaths in and out, like focusing for a far sniping shot, like Vex had him do earlier.

"I don't-" Scar pauses, thinking to himself. Trying to think to himself. It's a little soggy in there. Is that not just because his brain is being mean on its own?

Scar takes one of his hands back, and slides it up into the back of his hair, hissing a breath when he brushes over a sensitive spot. "I guess? Must have." He doesn't really remember doing that. It's all a little blurry around the edges since the box, but he kind of expects that to happen sometimes.

"Hm." Doc hums out, finishing up the scan and feeling around to the back of Hotguy's head to locate the tender spot, and running another scan centered on it. "I am reading a mild concussion here, I assume you know how to handle those, yes? Any other pain right now? Especially in the right half of your chest?"

"Yeah, not my first rodeo." Scar's had way worse concussions, he figures he can probably just ignore this one until it goes away. It's not like he's about to go out heroing any time soon.

That thought for a moment wars with the calm of being Hotguy, but Scar pushes the contradiction out of his thoughts.

Scar breathes in and out, still slow and steady. "Not as much as before, nothing sharp." His lung still feels kinda weird, but not like anything's making it worse when he moves or breathes.

Yeah, a lot of the rest of him sorta hurts, but doctors don't mean the hurts that are everyday when they ask like that, Scar's learned.

"Nothing else hurts?" Doc persists. He can see the twitching in Hotguy's legs, and he's fairly certain they aren't the only thing that's hurting him right now. If he's going to properly treat he patient, he needs to know all their current pains, including seemingly chronic ones. Too often does he see those go unaddressed, especially in the masked folk, when they are often hiding serious underlying issues that could sometimes be resolved, and often at least alleviated. He's also seen the bruises around one of Hotguy's wrists, skin scraped bloody in some parts, from who knows what.

So no, he is not buying it when Hotguy says that's all that hurts, right now.

"Nothin' else injury-wise or unusual, yeah." Scar nods. "I guess technically my lip? My wrist? But like. Y'know, those're nothin'." Scar flicks his tongue over the small bite-wound on his lip, prodding it and feeling a faint blip of pain. Normal for a split lip. And nothing more than surface scrapes when he rotates his writst.

Scar shrinks back into himself when that nets him a stern look and a raised eyebrow. Can Doc even raise both eyebrows, with one of them being metal?

"And what about non-injury pains? Got any of those?" Doc asks.

"Well, yeah. But that's just like, usual stuff. Just all hurts a little, I'm used to it." Scar shrugs, averting his eyes from Doc's judgment. "Especially after a fight." Technically they'd been fighting before everything happened. Before he'd gotten a cuff on Vex and everything blew up.

"Tell me about the 'usual stuff', then." Scar squirms. Doc does not seem to be relenting on this. It's been so long since anyone asked him about this. Been so long since any medical professional cared. He can see why Vex insisted he get treated by Doc now.

Scar's gaze flicks to the door, his expressions visibly etched with concern for Vex. Would it be selfish to talk about his normal things while Vex waits to be treated? But Vex told him to listen to Doc.

"Like I said, it hurts a little, like, all across my body? In waves or all at once. And sometimes my legs won't do what I want them to after doing stuff. Or like, randomly. Head gets bad. Most of it goes away eventually, except the general hurting." Scar rambles a bit, trying to pull his thoughts together. He doesn't put words to it all very often, hasn't had to in such a long time... It's not his most elegant wordcraft, he knows.

"Good, thank you for telling me." Doc follows his gaze to the door, and puts a heavy hand on Scar's shoulder. It's warm, heavy and warm and safe in a way he rarely feels.

"No need to worry for him. The issue he has, he can take care of the first steps best on his own. Having you treated is important to him. Gives him peace of mind knowing you are well." Doc is silent for a long moment then, before giving him one heavy pat on the shoulder, and shifting back to doctor mode easy as can be, putting his metal hand on Scar's thigh, long fingers wrapping halfway around it, despite how thick Scar's thighs are.

Scar briefly glances at Doc, in a tiny bit of disbelief not to be told he's just- Well, any number of disagreements with what he'd described.

"I do." He worries for Vex a lot. Still, he sags a little under the weight of that offered comfort. Doc really thinks Vex thinks more of Scar than Vex does... Scar knows his wellbeing is no part of Vex's peace of mind. Probably the opposite, honestly. If Scar's doing well, he can stop Vex.

Scar tries to tell his legs to spread a bit when Doc covers his thigh, but they both jerk slightly in the same direction so it doesn't really do anything. Oh well, Doc gets the room he gets, Scar supposes.

Doc is quiet for while, putting his hand in a few different places. Then, he rubs his hands together with a wet sound, puts his hands on Scar's thighs again, all the way up at the top, and digs his thumbs in hard.

Scar moans. Then slaps a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. That felt so good. Feels so good, despite the pain. Doc has a really good, firm grip, hitting all the knots of tension in his thighs. Scar is biting his hand, trying to suppress the moans Doc's strong hands are wringing out of him.

Hard thumbs draw hard circles on the inside of Scar's thighs, all the way at the top. Scar keens, high and loud. This is more than anyone has done for him in a very, very long while. The smooth glide of Doc's fingers over skin almost has him thinking that Doc is using some kind of oil or lotion, but he hadn't seen him apply any. And as if that wasn't good enough, Doc's metal hand is warm, warmer than his flesh hand, pressing into a particularly bad knot, and vibrating.

Scar gives up on trying to hold back his moans. Let Doc hear just how good this hurts.

Scar doesn't want to sell Grian short. Grian tries! It's just that, well. Grian doesn't have the training, or really the patience. And Scar thinks he worries too much about his claws, Scar wouldn't mind if his claws-

Another moan rattles loose from Scar's chest, leaving him needing both his hands pressed flat to the cot behind him to prop himself up.

He shouldn't-

No, that's a Hotguy thought. He's acting like Hotguy, but he's not Hotguy right now.

He's Scar. And Scar is allowed to get swept up in the crashing cascades of pain and pleasure. Blending, blurring sensations, wringing whimpers and moans out of Scar with complete abandon. Even the pain feels good, bursts against his closed eyelids and is washed away by vibrations too sublime to be called anything but sinful.

"Please-" This time Scar's legs properly fall open, and he has no shame about that displaying that the massage is working him up. Scar feels like he's flirted with that edge all too many times recently. "Vex~" Moaning his archrival's name, his owner's name. Imagining it were his touch.

Doc was honestly not surprised by the moaning. Or the begging. Or the calling for Cub's villain persona. The erection he's just going to take as a compliment to his massaging skills. He keeps his massage steady, working his ways downward bit by bit.

Finishing his work on Hotguy's thighs and continuing down to his calves and shins gets him a mournful whine.

"Just to remind you. Nothing about the exam and your treatment leaves this room without your explicit permission." Doc reminds Hotguy, while he is working over his feet. Hotguy is boneless mess on the cot. "There. Is that feeling any better?"

"You've gotta lotta silly lil rules. I did too. Y'should try collar." Scar's voice meanders, thoughts wobbly and shivery and close-

But he knows he's not going to get there, not with Doc speaking and shattering the nice illusion he'd had building up in his head. "Mm, better." Scar's hips stutter against the air, seeking friction they won't find.

But hey, he can actually willfully move his hips! Win! Even if it's only to chase the frustration of another denial. Scar drapes the back of his arm over his eyes, and splays artistically mournfully back onto the cot.

"So do you want to stay here while I analyze the debris from your lung, or do you want to watch?" Doc asks, moving to wash his hands before collecting the little container. Hotguy had mentioned wanting to keep the object. A sentiment a surprising amount of people share, even if the object hadn't been something they owned before. A memento, of sorts.

If the object was inorganic, and properly cleaned, it was often possible to fulfill the patient's wishes.

"Do your stuff." Scar waves his hand loosely at Doc to vaguely shoo him off to his nerd stuff. It's not like Scar's gonna understand the machine things saying whatever about it right now. Maybe if his brain were having one of the days where it pretended to be a functional model.

And he needs a minute to be boneless, as well. Boneless and probably to try to get that whole boner situation under control. That's too much bone for boneless hours. Also it'll be inconvenient for when he gets up and walks, any moment now.

Doc putters around Cub's medlab for a few minutes, more to look busy and give Hotguy a chance to breathe and calm down than it really taking him this long to identify the debris. A thin piece of plastic, lightly charred on one side, presumably caught in an updraft of heat and inhaled. It's unlikely there are more in Hotguy's lungs, and if there are, they are small enough to not cause problems, or already being carried out by the mucous.

None of which is stuck to this piece. An interesting quirk of the phasing abilities they built into Cub, most likely. Something to further look into, later. Doc makes a note on the ever expanding list of things he and Cub want to research. It's always growing, despite them diligently and enthusiastically checking points off of it frequently.

Doc still spritzes the piece with disinfectant, and puts it in a clean, labeled box, discarding the old one. Hotguy can keep it, if he wants.

Scar is glad for the relative privacy Doc being across the lab and out of the little nook with the bed affords him. It lets him press the balls of his palm hard into the base of his dick and muffle his whine in a bite to his other knuckles until the arousal is bearable, the repeat denials compounding on top of each other, making each following one all the more intense and consuming, painful almost, with how he struggles and yearns but never reaches that peak, never crosses that threshold into relief.

Scar vows to take a long, thorough shower, as soon as he's allowed, fully planning on wrecking himself in the best way possible during it as his harsh panting slows to more measured breaths. Now if only he could convince Vex to take that shower with him, to take over the wrecking him part, oh wouldn't that be wonderful, absolutely amayzin.

Scar is luxuriating in the memory of Vex's cool fingers exploring his chest, when that knocks loose the thought that Vex! Still needs his doctory stuff! They can't have any showertimes or couchtimes or bedtimes or any of that until Vex gets his doctorytimes out of the way. Scar groans with the deep discontent of someone who hates being responsible.

And yet, Scar carefully slides forward to the edge of the cot, until his feet touch the ground. Supporting himself with his arms, Scar eases a bit of weight at a time onto his legs. It's not the most comfortable, given his... Currently indisposed state of being, but it'll do. He can lean on counters and make his way over to Doc, swiping the lung junk box as soon as he's close enough to do so.

"Whatcha doin? You all set with stuff?" Scar leans into Doc's space.

"Almost." Doc rumbles, turning to Scar. "Just two more things."

Two more, he can do that. Then Vex can have his turn, and Scar can go pick out a movie, and prepare a snack. Or hopefully take that shower, if he's allowed. Which he really, really, wants to be. So he asks.

"Is one of those things giving me permission to shower?" Doc's head tips sideways, an amused chuckle rumbling through his chest. Doc is all rumbly, now that he's more relaxed. Scar likes that. He can pretend it's from him being good.

"Not directly, no." Doc laughs. "But good job for asking, I have way too many patients just doing it wizout asking, and mostly they just end up injuring themselves further. Yes, you can take a shower." Doc ruffles Scars hair, and Scar beams. He did good! Doc told him he did a good job asking for permission! And gave him headpats!

"The other two things. One is that I want you to take a medication, for your lungs, so they don't get an infection." Doc turns, and rummages through a large bag hanging off his hips? Are they still hips if they are also the shoulders of his green cat-horse-body?

"Here." Scar holds out his hand, and three pills are shaken into it. "Take with food, one as soon as you can, and the others at lunch and then dinner. Please repeat that for me, so I can be sure you understood right."

"Three pills, one per meal today, take with food." Scar repeats. He's fairly certain he got it right. Confirmation of that comes in form of another rumbled out good, and further headpats. It makes something warm and gooey melt in Scars chest, to receive the praise. He could get used to this, especially from someone claiming to be a doctor. He might actually go willingly instead of Grian having to sit him in his wheelchair or even push him when he can no longer walk for days, or Lizzie and Joel kidnapping him and dragging him to the hospital Joel works at when he's too injured for Lizzie to fix at home.

"The other thing," Doc begins, tucking the pill packet away, "Is your legs." And yeah, there it is. Scar knew this was coming. He shrinks into himself, waiting for the scolding for letting them get that bad, or the talk about how he just has to try harder.

"With your permission, I'd like to look at them a bit closer, see if I can find a cause, or at least somesing that will help you a bit to ease the pain and cramping, long term. The massage just now hopefully helped, but that's not really a long term option. Though I can prescribe you regular massage therapy, if nothing else helps."

Scar peeks up through his lashes at Doc, waiting for there to be more. A 'But-' tacked onto the end of a seemingly positive doctory reaction. He waits a little too long to answer before realizing there isn't more coming.

Leaning heavy on his one arm, Scar's other arm tucks up to his own chest, clutched pills held close over his heart. Like it's just a little too vulnerable to not have that covered right now. Like he has to hide a little spark of hope even from himself.

Scar tells himself to not get too excited, since it probably won't find any more results than it did the other times he's been looked at. But it feels different, like it's not a begrudging and halfhearted attempt to push him through hoops into boxes that never quite fit him.

"It helped." Scar's voice is small when he speaks, almost damp. "Dunno how regular I can do that..." Scar likes it right now, but when he has to go back to being Hotguy again, thinking like Hotguy again, what of how that massage made him feel then? "Thanks." Scar sniffles, not having the hand to clean the mess he's making of his face.

Soft, warm hands reach over to wipe his tears for him. Scar leans into them, needing the comfort they bring. They draw him close to a soft fuzzy-warm chest that rumbles with more words.

"Good. We can talk more about that later. For now, let's get you that shower and then maybe in bed. I'm putting you on three days of rest, by the way. Not bedrest, void knows that's hard enough to enforce back at the clinic with a full staff, but no strenuous activities for three days, you hear? If I catch you heroing around the city I will send my husband out to capture you and stick you in a bed under supervision until you are better."

Scar laughs out a wet laugh at the absurd threat, though he has no doubt Doc would follow through with it. He leans heavily into Doc, grateful for the support.

"No heroing. For three days. Got it." Repeating Doc's instructions seems natural at this point. It nets him another hair ruffle, which is always a good thing, in Scars books.

"Good. Good. Let's get you out of here. You got your lung debris? Yes? Want a ride to your room?" A nod has strong hands lifting him, setting him on Docs back as he had seen Doc so with Vex earlier. Scar leans into the solid warm wall of fuzzy body in front of him, tucked safely between soft wings as he is carried to the room he stays in while in Vex's lair.

His room. Doc had confirmed as much. Doc and Vex are friends, sort of, he thinks, and Doc obviously knows his way around Vex's lair. So for him to call the room Scar's.…

It means something, something Scar can't decipher between the softness of shed tension and the warmth of the spark of hope, of offered understanding.

Scar curls his fingers into Doc's fur, careful not to pull. He... He wants to stay here, with Vex, for those three days. Heroing is a Hotguy thing, not a Scar thing. He's just Scar right now, collared and free.

It's only once they arrive at his room, that Scar remembers to be sad that he didn't get to see Vex in passing. He'd wanted to check that Vex was really-really doing alright- But he'll have to wait now. He couldn't ask Doc to bring him back out. Not when they're already at the shower. A private shower, connected to Scar's cage, his room, his home.

Scar lets out a little whine when he sees that the chair he'd had in there during his previous injury recovery is no longer in there. The sound quiets, though, when Doc taps a patterned tile on the wall, and a bench folds out, for him to lift and set Scar on. Large, careful hands, settling him, soothing him. Easy for Scar to lean into, nuzzle the warmth of. Scar doesn't have a word for the emotion that rises in him at the feeling of the bench under him. But it's nice, and Doc is nice too. Maybe nice horses exist after all.

Hotguy looks about ready to crash as Doc gets him settled in the shower. Ensuring everything, soaps and faucet, are within easy reach, Doc relieves Hotguy of the pills and the container he is still clinging to, setting both on the counter.

"You gonna be okay from here? Getting undressed and all?" He asks, just to be sure.

"Hmmhm." Hotguy hums at him, already working on divesting himself of his skintight Hotguy branded underwear, the only thing he's been wearing since Doc arrived. Deciding this patient was sufficiently cared for, for now, Doc quietly closed the door behind him, and headed off to go help Cub, and give him a piece of his mind.

Scar spends a minute settling himself into place. His shower, his soaps. Soaps that Vex bought for him. He reaches out, fingers sliding with easy memory over the controls.

Hot water immediately greets Scar, a luxury that his apartment most certainly does not have, engulfing him in steam. He'd thought he couldn't melt any further, but it's a good thing the bench and wall are here, because Scar is practically plastered to them, hot water coursing over his skin and cleansing away the grime and bother of both the last day's worth of troubles, and the entire outside world.

Easy then, to slide his hand down his own chest, to loosely grasp his still half-hard cock in a gentle and teasing grip. Vex would draw it out, seeing how long Scar can take the pleasure. Slow pulses of sensual raw heat that wipe away all hesitation and thought of anything but the moment, but Vex. Scar's moans and cries rise over the hush of the water, long and languid echoing sounds as he settles in for a slow and steady complete ruination.

[whisperwritingstuff]

Y’all see it too right?

[whisperwritingstuff]

silly thought for sculk city au

what if cub starts selling sculk-style eye-color changing contacts

acting like he's wearing them too, of course, starting a whole fashion trend

it never really catches on outside the city, but it does mean that people who come into the city are greeted by crowds rippling with dark, glowing eyes that match the way the streets glow and pulsate

it means it's all too easy to get used to that just being a quirk of this place, a normal thing. it doesn't stand out when someone with those eyes passes by, even if they glow a little brighter than the usual, even if they sway in time with the fronds that could almost pass for flowers in the parks.

the whole city is a little unsettling, after all, but not unpleasant. pretty, in a way. safe, in a way. safe as long as you never offend the heart of it. most people will never even know there's a heart to offend.

and sometimes, if one is very lucky, they may catch the eye of the city. of the heart of the city. if play-pretending to be an angel of only sweetness and cheer is too much, too exhausting to keep up, then it's all too easy to fall into the waiting net, dark and hungry.

the network grows, slow and deliberate, safe and hidden in plain sight

[whisperwritingstuff]

anyway in hero for sale light double scars, definitely don't think about dd!scar watching times when l!cub is struggling with adapting to his newly increased sculk features.

which isn't terribly often! but l!cub does still sometimes have moments where he drops out of his mind unexpectedly, or where everything becomes too loud, too much, his very ribs pulsing inside himself. bones and organs behaving differently than they used to, little breaks in routine. moments that dd!scar tries to be there for, a filter for the harshness of the world, a steadying presence.

don't think about how, in those moments dd!scar just hears the words 'Use him as you see fit.' ringing inside his mind, blanket permission damning him to complicity in the creation of a sculk-protector out of a person he cares about.

[whisperwritingstuff]

Hello??? Was I supposed to find out Grian had made a texture of himself as a vex just by randomly clicking on a video youtube has been recommending to me??? Help??

[whisperwritingstuff]

got some more reverse untamed beasts for y'all

-----

"What do we do." Hissed words, piercing the veil of Grian's sleep. He tries to ignore them.

"Do we have to do anything? He doesn't seem bothered." A calmer voice.

"Of course he doesn't seem bothered! Do we seem bothered when-"

"Dunno man, he's like. Clearly awake."

"He's also clearly not right."

"No, I mean-"

"Did you hear him? Hell, maybe I can wait until after he takes another bite out of me- No, no, that's. I shouldn't. Right? I shouldn't?"

"I really don't know why you keep asking me as if I'm the morals of this operation."

"But I want to and that's. Ugh. Have I been being too hard on him? He. Like, he wasn't happy, but he did bring you back like. Basically as soon as I managed to ask him."

"Do you even have the faintest clue how to undo any-"

"I want him. I want him! I want to keep him."

"Then keep him."

"I can't."

"You can. There is no one to stop you."

The following drawn out shout of frustration is rather difficult to ignore, finally convincing Grian that he's not going to get back to sleep. Whatever.

He decides that instead of caring about whatever they were arguing about, he's going to see about making the den feel more homey. What to do, what to do... It doesn't smell enough like his magic, he decides.

The part that comes next Grian isn't entirely clear on. He presses his palms together, and kinda sideways focus-unfocuses. For sure something is happening, he can feel the flow of his magic up through himself, compressing into something solid between his palms.

Grian's not sure how long he stays like that, but when the flow of magic stops and he blinks his eyes open he's holding a crystal about the width and length of his forearm close to his chest.

"Pretty." Grian murmurs, watching the play of purple and gossamer blue glittering through the facets of the crystal.

The bed jolts with the force of Scar startled yelp and jump.

"I told you he was awake." Cub deadpans, before moving closer. "Now, what have you got there?"

"Crystal, for our den." Grian holds it up to the light for Cub to see, and is treated to Cub's pupils instantly dilating while Cub's wings beat like they're trying to outpace a hummingbird.

"Hey whazzat?" Scar pops up from behind Cub's shoulder, leaning heavily on him to peek as well. A couple blinks and then Scar gives a long wolf-whistle. "Wow, I didn't know you had it in you to proposition Cub like that."

"I- What?" Grian's voice clicks in high pitch.

"I think even you'd need some prep to get that in you, Cub." Scar clicks, cheerfully.

Cub's breath stutters.

"I just wanted our den to smell like me! You two don't have to be so weird about it." Grian snips, defensive. It's probably too much to hope that Scar has missed the way a flush tries to creep up his neck.

"Grian, buddy, that's like. Okay how do I put this. Like, a normal crystally magic thing? Is maybe the size of a small marble. That's fine for a den. What you've done is like." Scar searches for words, hands patting at Cub's cheek while he thinks.

Cub hasn't looked away from the crystal in Grian's arms.

"Like if you had a hundred thousandy wings for your little bird dance things or something." Scar finishes with a nod.

"That makes no sense." Grian can’t help trying to imagine it, if he’d unfolded more and more wings for a courtship. The mental image doesn’t come together.

"Exactly!" Scar nods even more. "That's unreasonable. Excessive. Powerful beyond all belief. So, you know, laser targeted at Cub. Isn't that right Cub-Cub?" Scar nuzzles Cub's cheek, getting a kind of hum-click out of Cub.

"We've played with magicy crystals kinda like that before." Scar carries on his chattering. "Oh, but we've never had a crystally magic that big to play with. Mm, just imagine it sliding in-"

A hungry keen escapes from Cub.

"You can't- Just say that?" Grian tries, as if he hadn't, briefly, been enraptured by Scar's words himself. Conjuring images of pressing Cub down into the bed, taking his sweet time to tenderly work Cub open-

Had he even thought of Cub like that before?

...how could he not, with Scar just openly talking about it and Cub looking at him like that?

"Why not? It's a lot more fun than talking about boring stuff like how your brain's still all kinds of shuffled up. How did you even know how to do that? Did he teach you?" Scar runs his hand up Cub's neck until he can hook a couple of fingers into Cub's mouth, idly pressing them in and out as he speaks. Cub loosely suckles at Scar's fingers.

"I just did it. Nobody taught me, it wasn't even that difficult, really." Grian watches, unable to look away from the casual show.

"You've really got a case of vex brain, haven't you? And that doesn't seem weird to you at all?" Scar presses.

"Why would it be?" Grian protests, reflexively.

"Because you're not a vex." Scar answers, as if it should be obvious.

"Now that can't be right." Grian's frown has an irritable edge to it.

Scar groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his head back for good measure. "Grian, come on." He flops his head back down to look sidelong at Grian. Which really, is entirely unnecessary.

"You come on, Scar." Grian clicks impatiently at him.

"Listen to yourself. I miss your chirpy-chirps." Scar pouts, pulling his fingers back out of Cub's mouth with the faintest of pop sounds. He dries them on Cub's labcoat, as if it were nothing.

Cub's eyelids dip and flutter slowly, his mind clearly a million miles away from the conversation.

"I chirp just fine." Grian rolls his eyes then clicks- He clicks. Grian click- He stops and frowns.

"See?" Scar sounds unusually unhappy to be right. No, not right. Temporarily under the impression of being right.

"Shut up." Grian touches his own throat, probing with fingertips and magic. He takes a slow breath in, and then with a very deliberate and conscientious slowness, Grian chirps smugness.

Scar slumps onto Cub's shoulder, boneless in what looks to be relief. Such an overblown reaction again. "Okay. Okay good. That's good. I haven't- You can. Good."

"Of course I could, like I'd let you stop me." Grian rolls his eyes.

Scar gets a moment of glint in his eyes, before shaking his head. "Wow I hate being responsible. How does Cleo do this every day?"

"They don't." Grian supplies.

"Oh, that makes sense." Scar nods. "Anyway, that's good to know, that you can shake that off yourself. Maybe this will just like. Wear off on its own, you know? And we can just kinda. Enjoy it in the meantime, yeah?"

"I'm doing just fine with enjoying life, you're the one twisting yourself up in knots about nothing." Grian shrugs. Whatever, he's a Vex right now, that doesn't really worry him. His brain doesn't feel like it's trying to cage match a bobcat over every little thing he's doing with regard to his Vex at the moment, so Grian's taking the victory where he can.

"If you really think it's nothing..." Scar sounds rather willing to be convinced.

"It's better than the past few days have been, I'll give you that." Grian turns away, looking for a good place to settle the crystal in their pillows and blankets. There's really no way to make something so large and hard comfortable, but he does his best.

"Been a rough one, huh? Yeah, I guess it has. Been a year of a week." Scar chuckles.

"Mmf." Grian scoots himself over and flops across Scar and Cub's laps both, now that his hands are free. "Thought I knew a lot about you." He murmurs, sullen.

"Compared to anyone but this guy." Scar jerks a thumb at Cub, scooting more to lean properly into Cub's side, and giving Grian a better angle of lap to sprawl over. "You did. You do."

Grian steals Scar's hand, holding it in greedy claws. "I want all of it. All of you." He presses little kisses to each one of Scar's joints and knuckles. Each one of his scars.

"Do you want it enough to give all of you?" Scar asks, tone soft and slipping toward fae.

"I-" Grian's words are cut short by Scar's finger pressed to his lips.

"I want you to truly think about it, Grian. You aren't fully bonded to us. You could still walk away now."

Grian makes a protesting noise.

"I mean it! If you agree to this, that's it. I could do anything with you. I could take Cub away from you. Or I could make you set yourself on fire for my amusement. I could clip your flight feathers and ban you from ever touching an elytra. Anything. Everything. So don't answer me now."

A growl works its way loose of Grian at the thoughts of having his Vex taken from him. He won't- But would Scar? Can he trust Scar not to? Displeased with the weight of those questions, Grian presses his face into Scar's stomach.

"I'll ask you again later, and I want to know that you truly, wholly mean the answer you give me. With all of your self." Scar rubs Grian's back, still allowing Grian to clutch his other hand. "Until then, rest."

Grian shakes out his wings, then tucks them close to his back. It's more comfortable while laying here, he thinks. "Jus' woke up." Grian complains.

"Then indulge in being a little lazy." Scar winks.

"Mm, nah, that's your job." Grian sticks out his tongue, only pulling it back in so Scar can't boop the tip of it. He giggles at Scar's pout.

Grian doesn't want to sleep anyway, he wants to appreciate this. Seeing them now really throws it into stark relief for him, how uncomfortable the pair have been with him the past few days. Grian wants to soak in the way they've relaxed back to being weird and silly, and he can't do that during a nap.

"My only job right now is making sure Cub doesn't steal your not-so-little pretty-shiny." Scar says.

"He can't have it! It's for our nest." Grian huffs, sternly. He pokes at Cub a few times, before relenting a little. "If he's so greedy for it, I'll make another one just for him."

Scar's delighted and scandalized little gasp comes at the same time as Cub crumpling to fold limply over on Grian's legs. Hm. Warm.

Scar pokes Cub's cheek a couple times, to no response. "Wow, I think you short circuited him. Neat!"

"Serves him right." Grian says loftily. He's decided he likes the Cub blanket on his legs.

"I'll have to show you some tricks for shaping how they form, later. Oh we're gonna have so much fun with this!" Scar bounces under Grian, jostling him.

Grian hums, then bites Scar's leg. Too Movement. No more of that.

Somehow, this has the exact opposite effect, resulting in Scar jolting Grian right off his lap. Grian crankily flaps his wings, clicking discontent.

"Warn a fella, hey?" Scar takes advantage of everyone's disparate sprawls to instead rearrange them all.

"Nah. You get what you get." Grian grins toothily. He tucks happily into Cub's side, after Scar lays out Cub, with Scar settling in behind Grian.

"What if I get this?" Scar asks, entirely too much eagerness in his to-

Grian's brain turns into melting static.

Everything hangs in suspended sensations, the clamping of sharp pressure over some part inside of him that he doesn't understand how to feel. Pinpricks in the fabric of his soul, letting shivering purple light through.

And then it stops, his whole brain unceremoniously schlorped back onto something resembling working order inside his head. Scar's face pressed to his back, nuzzling.

"You're good, you're safe. You taste so good, my pretty." Scar purrs sweet words to him.

Grian makes a sound that is almost word-shaped, but isn't actually any kind of a word. His tongue knows how to make sounds but stringing them together coherently takes a couple minutes to come back into focus.

Thankfully, Scar seems perfectly content to nuzzle and purr soothing noise to him in the meantime, not giving Grian's brain jar any further shakes.

"Sneaking dessert early without me?" Cub's voice, amused.

"No, I would never." Scar wheedles, pressing a hand to his heart. Grian can feel Scar's arm tucked up between them.

"Not that you'd admit to, sure." Grian teases.

Scar muffles dramatic wounded noises into Grian's back, groaning and whining pitifully.

Which only makes Grian curl his wings backward-inward to buffet Scar with them. He giggles about the way it makes Scar stutter and sputter.

While Grian was distracted with that, Cub had taken the moment to roll to face him. Which Grian discovers when he feels careful claws card through his hair.

Something not-forgotten in the back of Grian's thoughts croons sweet contentedness at the sensation. He lets himself relax under the touch, something warm even beyond Scar's body heat curling up his spine at the thought of Cub willingly preening him.

Simply natural, really, for Grian to then smooth his hands down over Cub's labcoat. It may be silly to smooth the wrinkles out of it while they're laying here like this, but the motion brings little peeps of bubbling joy to Grian's lips, and that's enough reason for him right now. Being accepted by his pack, being preened by his flock, being attended to by his vex. Whatever tangle of instincts now lives in the back halls of Grian's mind, this scratches all of them pleasantly.

One of Cub's hands slides down to cup Grian's cheek. "Has Scar been keeping this cute side of you to himself all this time?"

"More like he's trying to advertise-" Grian protests, glad for the cool feeling of Cub's hand on his all-too-warm cheek.

"I've got a spare Cuteguy outfit." Scar chimes in, bright and cheerful.

"Why." Grian deadpans.

"You never know when you'll need the power of cuteness to save the day!" Scar eagerly answers.

"I've got plenty of that power on my own, thanks much." Grian rolls his eyes.

Cub chuckles, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth over Grian's cheek. "Cute, tasty, and powerful. Is there anything you don't do well?"

"Nope. Suffer my perfection." Grian straightens his spine, a hint of haughty note creeping into his tone.

"I might do that. I just might do that." Cub says, nodding slightly.

And what is Grian supposed to say to that? No, better to just drag Cub close and tuck his face in Cub's shoulder, rubbing Cub's hand between his cheek and Cub's shoulder. Like food for a starving chasm of want hiding inside of Grian.

Scar snugs his arms steady around Grian's waist, pressing light little kisses to the back of his neck. The whole situation feels illegal, somehow. Something Grian isn't supposed to have. Something he wants. How badly? How much is he willing to risk for this?

Pebbles and sand clattering over a cliff's edge. The sky spread out below him, bright and welcoming.

Is there something about those long drops that calls his name? Something in the never quite knowing if he'll get his wings out soon enough, strong enough, to catch himself?

Something illicit in the thrill of binding his own wings and seeing if someone else will catch him?

Cub eventually works his arm out from where it had been pinned between himself and Grian. Grian reluctantly but willingly lets it go. He still has Cub's shoulder to nuzzle into, after all. Soft fabric, cool pillow. "Good." Grian murmurs.

Maybe Scar was on to something, not that Grian plans to say it. His slide down into drowsiness says enough unto itself already. The urge to just drift here, in their safe den, in their safe nest. The familiarly warm current of Scar's breath over the back of his neck, and the comforting brush of Cub's fingers returning to his hair.

Sleep claims Grian with a gentle embrace.

[whisperwritingstuff]

Yall ever just want to be able to take ur body apart like a puzzle and put it back together? Idk I think if I could just pop myself open, take out my stomach and give it a good wash, re-string my spine, and squish my muscles around a bit it would fix me.

[whisperwritingstuff]

it turns out that e/l cub has too much game but only when he's not trying-

[whisperwritingstuff]

anyway in the infinite swathes of hfs universes there for sure is one where double scars dd!scar and l!cub came out of that vault after the sculk incident and just. infected the entire harem.

maybe they take it slow, trying not to cause a panic. let dd!scar get caught and quarantined, since he's so visibly marked. let cub work from the outside while the sculk grows in him.

a quiet moment of cub pulling l!scar aside, freely telling him what's going on, and the trusting adoration as Cub kisses the sculk into Scar. slow pulses of power, the transcendent moment when their minds link up.

from cub and scar and scar's point of view the process is soft and sweet and inevitable. they need their network. they need to spread. they need to share this bliss. the sculk is thriving. they're thriving.

grian fights, holds out to the last. of course he does. they expect it, allow it. the outcome was set from the moment they started. he was never going to be able to 'save' them. he was never going to be able to leave them. quiet, gentle hands to catch him when he stops his struggles. sweet lips to bring him into the fold. understanding dawning in his darkening eyes.

the spread stops there, for now. a stable network, united. life goes on, not all that much different than before. they don't need to take the entire city, not the people of it anyway. dark glowing specks and smears do begin dotting more and more of the city's buildings and parks. nothing bad comes of studying it, so it's declared safe. inert.

if it quietly hears what needs hearing, and transmits that to the beating heart of a network draped together in a high, cozy nest? well, that's just ensuring smooth operations. a safe home. this city may not be ancient, but it is theirs, through and through.

[whisperwritingstuff]

sometimes i have a mild concern that i make my scars too obsessed with deals and bargains and being fae

and then scar spends the first 10 minutes of joe's episode being pure ominous 'oh we can come to a delightful arrangement' and 'i love seeing what people are willing to give me for things' and 'can i have your pants'

like. okay. got it. lean harder into it.

[whisperwritingstuff]

welcome back to hero for sale enemies/lovers verse! it's us! your hosts! myself, and @varanere00 who have not finished being consumed alive by this verse and this particular thread of action. so have some more of the disasters!

------

Scar rises to wakefulness slowly. He's tucked into bed, snuggled up to a warm body. He's comfy. Toasty. Still drifting on the post sleep drowsiness. A deep, satisfied hum builds in his throat. Nuzzling deeper into the throat presented to him, breathing the scent of blood and static deeply. He's truly happy like this, warm and loved and still fuzzy from sleep.

He does wonder who is holding him. Not enough feathers and sleepy chirrs to be Grian, not cold enough to be Vex. Scar doesn't think this is a problem. He's warm, he's safe, he's wanted, he's happy. Happy to just drift in the currents of bliss fogging his sleepy brain.

A warm tingle of static runs down Scars spine, sending shivers throughout his whole body. His legs twitch once, though the heat under the blanket had helped mellow them out. They might actually carry him today.

The world really is good and beautiful, isn't it?

Scar lets himself soak in the bone steady comfort for as long as he can stand staying still, before his hands begin wandering. The more awake his mind becomes, the more room it has for curiosity about who's in bed with him.

Around a waist cozy-soft under layers of fabric, and up a back-

Huh. His hands meet wings. Not soft and feathered, but firm and sleek. He didn't know anyone else has wings like Vex's. Scar rubs his fingerpads into the membranes and along the almost crystalline surfaces. He likes them. He wonders if Vex's wings feel as good.

If Vex hadn't been so mean, it could be him sharing this blissful morning with Scar. So there.

Scar spreads the wing, as much as he can under the blanket. He's fully fascinated by feeling out the movement and textures of it.

An alert breaks through Cub's sleep. He'd already dismissed the charging complete notifications in favor of a bit more sleep, but this-

Someone is touching his wings.

He's warm and comfortable in his own bed and someone is running strong hands between the panes of his wings, pulling shivering little breaths out of him with their sensations set flight high.

Someone is a broad chest under him, a warm body. A non-threat.

Cub gets the feeling they'd be easier to identify if his brain weren't thick with warm molasses and his wings weren't being manhandled with an astounding confidence and curiosity.

...Hotguy. With Hotguy's confidence and curiosity. Hotguy's chest rising and falling beneath him. Hotguy's face tucked into his neck.

...Cub wonders if he's actually awake at all.

Cub hums a tone back, harmonizes with Hotguy's hum. All too easy to slip a hand into Hotguy's hair, savoring being able to play with the soft fluff gently, even though pulling it had been a treat earlier. Cub doesn't want to be anywhere else in the world than right here, right now, melting under Hotguy's touches.

Tracing patterns on the wings beneath his fingers, Scar hums a little melody. The voice humming with him joins him, and together they harmonize for a while, the other's voice shaky and breathy in time with Scar's strokes on the wings. He times them then, to punctuate the flow of song just the way he likes, learning to play those wings like the most intimate of instruments.

A groan as he caresses a wing base, a forehead pressed into his hair.

"What will I do with you." A rhenoc- rhetic- fake question to follow. In an achingly familiar voice.

Vex. So it is Vex, the warm body he's been snuggling, whose wings he's been petting, who's usually cold and more reserved than this. Never has Vex ever melted into Scars arms like this, not even when feverhot and delirious. Not once. Scar doesn't ever want to let him go.

Cub is sure he must have gotten some wires crossed, literally. Hands on his wings have never felt so good. He does not have the brainpower to query the settings, or maybe change them into something less liable to have his brain melting out of his ears and turning his body into a live wire.

"Anything you want." Scar answers, words drawn out of him even though the question is meant to go unanswered. He wants anything Vex will give him, anything Vex wants to take from him. He wants.

"You're so warm." Scar murmurs, fingers working over the skin around the base of Vex's wings, before slipping his hands back up into the mechanisms of the wings themselves. "You sound so sweet." Easy praise dropped from adoring lips. Lips that soon occupy themselves with Vex's neck, with slow, loose kisses. Mapping the skin there. Keeping time by the pulse.

"Vex~" Scar answers in a sweet purr of his own, after Vex groans into his hair.

Cub tries to... do anything, really. All that happens is him spreading his wings and pushing them into Hotguy's hands, pressing every sensitive surface close to those seeking fingers.

Shivers course though Cub, warm and bright along every nerve. All too clever lips seem determined to take him apart. He tries to say Hotguy, but all that comes out is "Please-", a bare wisp of a word.

"So good, so good for me. Just stay with me, Vex." Cub can picture the diagram of his brain lighting up under Hotguy's words with perfect clarity for a single moment, before Hotguy crooks his fingers in and runs his nails down a soft membrane, leaving Cub crying out breathlessly.

He curls his fingers into Hotguy's hair, pulling him in tight. Any touch is muffled by the thick fabric of his costume, but he still presses as close as he can, to get as much contact and friction as possible.

Static builds around Hotguys fingers with each scratch over his wings, sending lighting bolts through the livewires to his brain. It's unlike anything he has ever felt before, and it just keeps building-

Zap! Hotguy snatches his hand from Cubs wing. The static shock has blanked Cubs brain, fizzling out every thought he ever had.

"Owie! What was that for?" Hotguy is whining into his throat, but Cub is not processing. His brain is blank, and his interfaces are flickering. He focuses all his mental power on queuing up a restart, no matter how unpleasant it may end up being, how many hours of calibrating and reinitializing a potential full restart of all systems and emitters may cost him.

Scar pops his zapped fingers into his mouth to suck on the pain-

Bleghth. He immediately spits them back out again when they taste gross and medical-slimy. Ew. He chews roughly on the collar of Vex's costume to get rid of the taste.

He's pretty sure that should get Vex complaining at him by now. Maybe. It's a little guesswork, given he hasn't chewed Vex's collar like cud before. But Vex doesn't seem the type to sit through that without something holding his focus.

So what has his focus?

Scar can't look up at him, not with the hand still pressing his face into Vex's neck. He can feel Vex's pulse in his forehead, in his cheekbone. Scar wants mo-

Wait.

He can feel What?

Scar carefully rolls his face against Vex's neck, feeling skin and costume against just skin.

A panicked strangle of sound escapes Scar's throat, his hands flying up to find nothing covering his face.

"Vex!" Scar's shout is half accusation and half panic.

"Vex!" Cub is only partially aware of Hotguy's yelling. His internal systems are throwing up errors and he hasn't be able to focus enough to reboot them. A distracted hum is all the answer he manages. He needs to get to his lab, maybe force a reset externally-

system initiating................. running VEX.OS v1.21.5...... startup in progress............

Finally. His internals are running the startup sequence. Going by the feel of it, he won't have to restart every emitter. Good. That would have cost him hours, hours he does not have.

"What have you done with my mask!?" Scar demands, even though Vex seems to be choosing to half-ignore him. He's heard that distracted hum before. It does Not mean he is being listened to.

In a fit of spite, Scar works his hand under whatever layers he can and pinches harshly at Vex's hip.

He needs to know where his mask is. He needs to know why Vex took it.

There's only so long that he can push down on the clawing terror trying to rise up to consume him, that this is some kind of a beginning of an end, that their longstanding unspoken agreement to respect one another's- That can't be broken. It can't. Vex is here.

Scar's hand that had still been on his face, slides down to rub over the fabric of his collar. He still has that much. He still has that calm to draw on. For now.

"What have you done with..." Scar tries, again, his words trailing off with a shudder.

"...your mask. Your mask. Right. Right." He did remove Hotguy's mask last night, to be able to give him high flow oxygen. But he put a towel over- Right. Sleep. He didn't tie the towel to Hotguy's head or anything. That means Hotguy doesn't have his face covered right now.

Hotguy doesn't have his face covered. Fuck.

Cub snaps his eyes shut. Hotguy may be out of his field of vision, but he is not taking any risks. Cub throws a wholly unnecessary hand over his already closed eyes. He may not need it, but better safe than sorry, with the way he is scrambling for coherent thoughts right now. At least Hotguy is still tucked into the crook of his neck, Cub's other hand still in his hair, safely out of view. He probably owes Hotguy an explanation, doesn't he.

Vex pats his head with the hand still tangled in Scars hair. "You needed oxygen. The masks were in each others way." he explains.

That. Clears up nothing, for Scar. It does give him hope that maybe Vex had a good reason for what he did.

“...we all need oxygen.” Scar blinks, at least feeling slightly more paid attention to now that Vex is like. Reacting. Talking.

Saying weird cryptic stuff but like, what else is new? That’s almost kinda soothingly normal of Vex.

“Wait, do you not need oxygen? I hear you breathing. Is that fake? Are you faking having to breathe?” Scar finds himself captivated by that tiny detail. (Anything to keep his thoughts off of how at any moment that hand in his hair could pull him back, revealing everything. Revealing the one tiny bit of privacy he has.) He tips his head very slightly into Vex’s petting. A comfort and a threat, coexisting in that simple gesture.

Cub sighs. Deeply.

"Of course I need to breath. Why would you-" he pauses. "No, don't answer that. You needed oxygen. Medical Oxygen. Given to you via a non rebreather mask. You needed the oxygen because there was a fire in the lab, and you breathed in potentially lethal amounts of carbon monoxide. Both from the fire burning plastics, and from the fire suppression foam."

"Oh yeah, the fire was pretty." Scar nods, getting a brief flicker of memory of the pretty colors it had burned, and sighing contentedly.

"Pretty fi- Did you start the- You know what. Never mind that. I am not letting you into a lab again until you learn basic lab safety. You almost died on me in there. How would I have ever told anyone? Anyway, after I pulled you out from the foam, I took you to the med lab, and checked your blood ox sat. It was too low, so I gave you high flow oxygen.”

"You wouldn't have. Told anyone. Really you'd have just gone on with things. Cuteguy would eventually show up, though, and he'd just Know. Like, you know? How he's got that intuition about stuff. But no one would believe him. Even though you also knew that he knew, and it'd be a whole thing." Scar rambles, only sort of paying attention to the rest of the medical jargon. It's a shame Lizzie isn't here, she'd care about that.

"You have too many labs." Scar pouts into Vex's neck. He got rid of one, but apparently there's a medical one, too, and who knows how many others competing with him for Vex's attention?

"I have the correct amount of labs for what I need right now, thank you very much." Cub will not be having this lab slander. "You probably don't care that I had to put you in a pressure chamber to pull the poison gas out of your cells, don't you."

"I can fix that." Scar mutters, a little darkly. Vex should have fewer labs. He can make Vex have fewer labs, he's already done it once! "Do I get to keep the poison gas?" Scar thinks that's fair. If it came out of his body it's his, right?

"No, you can't keep it. It will kill you. Do you want your mask back now?"

"Not if you put it in a little box for m- Yes! Mask yes!" Scar straightens up suddenly pulling his own hair against Vex's fingers as he's suddenly reminded of the entire actual point of the conversation.

Man, Vex got super off track. Tsk tsk.

"Gimme!"

"I need to do follow up checks on you anyway. There should be a towel here somewhere, you can put that over your head. It's not the best solution, but it should work, for now."

Scar huffs, displeased that he's not offered his mask back right away after Vex asked if he wanted it. He nips briefly at Vex's neck in irritation.

"Fine, give me the stupid towel." No, he's not putting any effort into looking for it himself, he's staying right Here where his face is obscured, thank you very much.

"Don't huff at me, the mask is in the med lab. Where both of us need to go anyway." Cub ensures he has a firm hold on Hotguy's head, tucking it tight into the crook of his neck, before carefully sitting up. Looking around for the towel.

It's not immediately apparent where it ended up over the course of the night, so he hooks his other arm under Hotguy's knees and lifts him up off the bed. Cub pushes himself up out of bed, kicking at the blankets to see if he can locate the elusive towel that way.

Finally, he spies it, fallen to the floor just next to the bed.

"Hold on, going down." he warns Hotguy, who has both arms in a stranglehold on his neck, before crouching down with his valuable cargo to try and grab the towel with the hand under Hotguy's knees.

Hm. Vex bringing him into the Medical Lab would present him a perfect opportunity-

Scar jolts slightly when lifted, before clinging tight. Why can't Vex hold him close like this more often?

"Oh so you can go down, but when I..." Scar trails of into grumbling, nuzzling aggressively against Vex's neck.

Cub staggers with a wheeze, taking a knee to retain most of his balance, since his arms are occupied reflexively pressing Hotguy as close as he can to his body.

Don't. Just don't think about what Hotguy said. He says so much stuff all the time. Towel. Focus on the towel. Cub pries his one hand loose again, leaning Very carefully, to snag the wayward scrap of cloth.

He flips it up onto Hotguy's lap. Don't think about it. "There, take it." Cub breathes, focusing on staying steady, while Hotguy shifts around.

Scar reluctantly loosens one of his arms around around Vex's neck, feeling his way down from the top of Vex's shoulder, across and down his chest, before finally reaching the towel. A rub between his fingers says it should be thick enough to protect his identity, and it's not like he has any other choice.

So Scar blinds himself for Vex, draping and tucking the towel around his head as securely as he can. A little shiver goes down his spine, somehow feeling more helpless than before, now that he can't see.

He makes no move to leave Vex's arms, just looping his arm back to cling to Vex's neck again.

"Are you really going to make me carry you?" Vex asks.

"Of course!" Scar chirps. "Do you want me to walk into a wall? You cruel, cruel man Vex."

Vex huffs, but does set off carrying Scar in a princess carry. His favorite carry to be in. In this position, he can snuggle up to Vex, and nip at his neck like the problem he gleefully is.

Some part of Scar is surprised to not be simply dumped on the ground and forced to walk anyway, but he pushes that down too. He's got a good bit of being cradled close to Vex's chest to enjoy. No negativity allowed.

The taste of Vex's skin is becoming a familiar comfort for Scar, the texture of it under his teeth as he worries at it idly.

Scar finds himself a little sad that Vex's temperature is droping from that delightful toastiness, but- Well, there's something to be said for the familiarity of tucking himself close to that chill body. It feels like they're settling in properly for the week, at last.

All Scar needs is his mask, and everything will be right in the world.

Cub moves- Well, he tells himself he's just being careful with his precious cargo, but he knows he could move more quickly than this and still be safe. He just wants- Mn. Hotguy's teeth keep trying to cut through his planning for the checkup he has to do. He's going to need his binder agai-

Cub suddenly finds himself with his shoulder braced up against the hallway wall, standing still.

"-ex? Vex? Yoo-hoo!" Hotguy pokes and prods his back, voice steady but fingers trembling very slightly.

"Just thinking." Cub swallows. Queries his internals for a report of the last minute.

The jumbled error message he has never seen before does not do good things for his state of mind. Neither does the fact that his wings feel like they are on fire.

"You can daydream about me later, Vex. Maybe in the shower. But for now I'm right here, so keep your big ol' busy brain right where it belongs." The shower is just the first place that Scar thought of where Scar might not be able to follow Vex. Even though he should be allowed to. Because reasons. Anyway.

Scar seals his very confident proclamation with a kiss to the hollow of Vex's throat.

Cub coughs hard, curling forward around Hotguy and making at least a vague effort to not cough on him. Disjointed moments of his attempted shower and the stairwell kiss kaleidoscope through his mind.

"And where is that." Cub manages to get out, more on quippy reflex than out of any genuine thought.

"On me, of course!" Hotguy declares, grinning with every last one of his teeth. Hotguy does seem to have relaxed enough to stop trembling, at least. Cub decides that's good. And doesn't look too closely at the conversation.

"Of course." Cub echoes, unthinkingly, getting a happy little hum and Hotguy nuzzling into his chest again. At that point, there's nothing to be done but steel himself, push off the wall, and make it to the lab, one step at a time.

"You're going to have to take a seat somewhere." Cub pushes the words out once they've arrived, while heading for the mask.

"Your lap is fine, thanks." Hotguy's all-too-chirpy voice answers immediately.

The lab is both closer and further away than Cub thought. He's struggling his way through walking one minute, the next he's already in the lab, setting Hotguy back on the cot, soothing his indignant noises about not being on Cub's lap.

"Just til you got your mask back on."

Cub picks up said mask from where he left it, haphazardly thrown on a counter, and presses it into Hotguy's hand.

"I'm gonna turn around now, let you mask up. Let me know when you're done." Cub promptly turns around, busying himself with the still open binder on the counter.

Bless his foresight for compiling the binder, Cub thinks, not for the first time. He reviews the appropriate pages, and doesn't think about what a struggle it was to figure out which those were. He's got this. He can manage.

Scar's long whine cuts off abruptly when the mask presses into his hand, familiar and comforting. He snatches it up, for a moment just pressing it close to his chest in relief.

That moment quickly passes, though, and he slips the mask up under the towel. For a single moment he considers that Vex could have done something to his mask, even swapped it out for a replica with who knows what sort of devious devices in it, no-doubt aimed at melting-

Vex doesn't need to do that, Scar reminds himself. He already has the collar, it was already that easy for him to tame Scar.

Relief crackles through Scar's veins as he finishes doing up the clasps, and his mask is secure once again. Not once does it occur to him that it would have been easier to do if he took the towel off first, but he does remove the towel now.

Hm. Hmm. And then he promptly drapes the towel over Vex's head. Get darkness time, pal. Scar's ready to give grabby hands as soon as Vex's attention is back on him. If Scar's going to be tamed, then he's going to get the most benefits out of it possible, and being carried by Vex is definitively one of those benefits.

The way Vex freezes up when his head is covered is very amusing to Scar. As is the frantic groping at his face, long seconds later. It reminds him so much of his pesky bird friend Grian, that when the slow sag and soft sleepy tweets don't follow, he feels off footed for a moment. Just one teensy moment, before he remembers this is Vex.

The sudden darkness has Cub freezing up. Had the systems that are on the fritz caused actual damage to his brain? He only has interfaces for sensation and though, not sight. Blindly, he reaches for his eyes. There should not be any-

Ah. It's the towel. Hotguy threw the towel over his head. He pulls it off and turns around, finding a now masked up Hotguy beaming back at him.

In a bit of petty revenge, he throws the towel right into Hotguy's face, earning him an indignant sputter.

"Time for your checkup." Cub announces.

Scar huffs and gnaws at the towel a little. How rude of it to turn on him, after all they've been through. But what else is new, right?

"Yes, time for up." Scar makes grabby hands in the direction of Vex's voice, not bothering to take the towel off. He was promised that being over here sooo far away from Vex was only until his mask was on, and look! Mask on! So Vex had better get back here! Before Scar starts thinking about how pretty the flames in the other lab were...

Vex does put himself back into Scars reach again after a moment. Scar immediately pulls him in close, causing Vex to stumble into the edge of the cot, knocking Scar over and faceplanting right into Scars tits. Scar considers this an optimal outcome. Vex can stay right where he is, and do doctory things, like listen to Scars heart. It's a good heart, beating nice and strong for Ve- nice and strong. Healthy. As a horse, even! Scar's heard that's a good thing, even if horses can be a bit scary, with their acid spitting and claws and hunger for meat.

Come to think of it, Scar is hungry for a different kind of mea-

The facefull of Hotguy tits is not conducive to Cub's already damaged thinking ability. He fully stalls out for a long moment, enough to nuzzle the incredibly soft tits in front of him once. Maybe twice. He's not fully sure how often, but there was nuzzling involved here.

Eventually, Cub pulls himself together and up, so he's no longer crushing Hotguy. The best way to do this, that he can see, is actually with Hotguy on his lap. For the first part of the exam, anyway. Depending on what he finds, they'll have to rearrange for different tests, or get to spend the day on the couch watching movies if he finds nothing.

Hotguy still needs about 26 hours of observation, and Cub considers it best to indulge him during those. He can try to undo any mental damage later, when Hotguy is no longer in danger of drowning in his own blood plasma or choking on spasming lungs.

"Let's get you on my lap for now. Then I can listen to your lungs." He gently taps Hotguy's hands to signal him to let go for repositioning.

Hotguy is more than happy to climb into Cubs lap once he manages to get seated. A little too happy maybe, given how he presses close to Cub. Cub will just have to start at the back of his chest then.

Just as he's putting the chest piece to Hotguy's back, ready to tell him to breath deeply for him, Cub feels his left wing twitch. Spasm. And break out in burning pins and needles all over the central joint so painfully, it sweeps his breath away. He can do nothing but breathe, hoping it clears.

Which it eventually does.

Hotguy does not seem to have noticed, fully engrossed in nuzzling and nipping at Cub's neck and the exposed parts of his shoulders. Playing it off as if its nothing, which. It is! It's nothing! Just a minor sensory glitch. He can leave under the pretense of wanting a shower later and take a few minutes to straighten that out.

Again, Cub lifts the chest piece to Hotguy's back, uninterrupted this time.

"Sit up straight and breath slow and deep for me." He guides. Hotguy takes his direction so beautifully. Cub doesn't know whether to love the soft way he yields under direct orders, or hate that this is a sign of how badly he's messed with Hotguy's mind.

Both upper lung fields sound clear to Cub. The right middle field however wheezes in a way that has Cub listening to it for more that one full breath. He'll get back to that, he has the rest of Hotguy's lungs to check.

Both lower fields and costphrenic angles sound clear again. Maybe a touch rough, but surely that can be expected with the amount of smoke and fumes Hotguy inhaled the day before.

Switching to the front, Cub starts the stepladder pattern over. Again, the slow, steady deep breaths Hotguy is still drawing on his order sound good everywhere except the right middle field. Cub does not have enough experience to draw any conclusions off the sounds other that it's off, so he will need to do some imaging to figure out what the issue is here.

"Very good, thank you." Cub puts his stethoscope away and runs his hand through Hotguy's hair. Who is right back to clinging to him as soon as he no longer needs to sit still and breathe.

"I did hear a wheeze in your middle right field there, so we're going to need to do some imaging to figure out what that's from."

Scar is really starting to get back in the swing of things feeling normal again. He gets to press close to Vex for long enough that he could almost imagine it's couch time. No doubt this is a very important medical procedure. As is making sure the taste of Vex's skin stays in his mouth.

Vex's words slide down into Scar's mind, pulling the appropriate motions from Scar without thought or hesitation. Scar focuses on the feeling of his collar shifting slightly when he straightens, thoughts softening to that foggy place where holding still isn't a huge chore. Isn't a bother at all. He can do this for Vex.

! Good! Scar's good? He melts into Vex's petting, before slithering his arms back around Vex. Steady-stable to hold through the rush of emotions Scar is experiencing. He's good, and Vex is giving him affection. Scar's mind easily discards whatever Vex was saying about fields, Scar doesn't own land like that. Are there even any fields in the city to own? Who knows.

All Scar knows is soft drifting and the cool body pressed close to his while he waits for another chance to be good and earn Vex's praise.

"You did not catch a word I just said, did you?" Cub pulls Hotguy back to study his face. A dopey smile stretches his lips wide, eyes fully trained on cub and half lidded. He looks fucked out, almost.

"Come on, let's get you scanned." Cub doesn't bother trying to stand Hotguy up or have him walk, just picks him up in a princess carry again and makes his way over to his imaging machine.

The machine itself was large, and a bit of specialty prototype, combining multiple radiological imaging techniques into one behemoth. Very efficient when one needs to run several different scans on one's own body on a weekly basis to ensure that the highly experimental tech in one's body was unbroken and still in place, even after intense and sometimes superpowered fights. Cub had even managed to integrate an ultrasound system one could remote control and see while inside and being imaged.

Firing up the machine and letting it open, he sits Hotguy down on the scanning table, gently cupping his face to gain his attention.

"Hotguy? I need you to pay attention to this, okay?" Big green eyes blink up at him trustingly. "I need you to lay down on this table, and go in the machine so I can take pictures of your lungs okay? There's something in there, and it may make you sick if we don't find it and get it out, okay?" Hotguy nuzzles into the hand on his cheek. Cub is not confident he heard or understood a single word that was spoken.

"Can you repeat that back for me?" Cub asks.

"Lay down, take pictures, don't get sick." Hotguy sums up.

Scar focuses as much of his attention as he can on Vex's words. It's hard. He just wants to fall into the mesmerizing glow of Vex's eyes, get lost in the sweet cool touch of Vex's hand on his cheek.

But Scar has to show he's able to do what's asked of him. He has to show he's worth keeping. Even if it's hard. He can. He will.

He takes a minute after his repeating back, one last thorough nuzzle into Vex's hand, before he can mournfully force himself to lay down. Scar sneaks out a hand to snag on Vex's shirt, to make sure he stays close. Scar can do this if Vex stays with him.

"I'm not going anywhere." Cub reassures as he oh so carefully pulls Hotguy's finger out of his shirt. "But there's not enough room for you to hold on to me." The pitiful whine he gets in response is too much to bear. "How about this, I'll stay right here and keep one hand on your ankle, how's that?"

A sniffle, then Hotguy nods. Cub collects the remote from on top, and set the machine to start with ultrasound scans first. The scanning bed retracts on the press of a button, until Hotguy's whole torso is engulfed in the scanning tube.

"Alright, this might be a little cold." Cub props the remote up against Hotguy's far leg to keep it steady while also still touching him. The ultrasound arm swings down, prepped with the gel already. It slides over Hotguy's chest until he can get a clear image of the area he thinks has the foreign object.

There it is, clear as day on the screen. Something in the lower bronchial branches of Hotguy's lungs. Cub takes a still of the screen, and marks the locations of relevant things, to help him locate it, later.

Moving the scanning arm to the side of Hotguy's body, Cub takes additional measurements, to better pinpoint the depth and position of the object. Once he's sure he has all the measurements he needs, he powers down the machine and hits the button to slide the scanning table, and Hotguy with it, back out.

Scar lets his eyes close, as the machine consumes him. He trusts Vex. If Vex thinks this is necessary, he can bear it.

And if he pretends the cold touch to his chest is Vex's hand? Well, that's Scar's own business. It makes the time pass a little easier, to have that little fantasy as well as Vex's hand grounding his ankle.

Scar wants Vex to touch him more, all over. His chest, and his side, and down-

The noise around him changes, quiets and Scar's whole world moves again, in reverse. Settles, brighter.

His chest still feels cold. Scar reaches up, finding that he touches... Slime? On his chest.

Of course, Scar's immediate next action is to try to stick those slime-covered fingers into his own mouth.

It tastes like... a disappointing amount of slippery nothing, when he licks it off. Vex is already clicking his tongue at Scar, but also making no move to stop Scar from scooping up more goop and eating it.

Still the disappointing taste of nothing. Vex gathers him back up, and brings him back over to the cot. Sits him back down on it.

"Can you sit here for me for one minute while I grab a few supplies? I won't be leaving the room." Vex asks him, cupping his cheek again.

Vex's touch is much better than fake fantasy machine Vex's touch. Scar turns his head, aiming a kiss for the middle Vex's palm, but more catching his lips on the heel of Vex's palm instead. Close enough!

That accomplished, he turns back to Vex, resting his cheek back into Vex's hand.

A long pause, before Scar eventually realizes he's supposed to answer. He tips his head, having missed the words.

"Stay here. Watch me, alright?" Vex speaks more simply this time, more commandingly. A single shiver of bliss wracks Scar, and he nods. He can do that.

Cub does his best to collect what he needs quickly and efficiently, to keep Hotguy calm. A calm Hotguy he can handle, and also has the upside of not causing further harm to himself, others, or his environment. Disregarding any ongoing psychological and or brain damage being here and in Cubs presence maybe causing. Cub makes a note to scan Hotguy's brain later, when he can be left alone in the room for the fifteen minutes it takes to do a full brain scan.

Returning to Hotguy in well under the minute he promised, and finding his eyes again firmly trained on Cub, Cub guides Hotguy to lay down flat on his back, and snaps on a pair of gloves, that he then disinfects. The open sample container is set aside, within easy reach and in close proximity to Hotguy's right flank.

"Alright, I am going to reach into your body with my phasing ability. So I need you to stay very still, because I don't have my boosters on that help me with precision, okay? Otherwise this will hurt bad." Cub is having his internals do the movement calculations, doublechecking the math. He would like to not have his sensory suite glitching out on him for this, but needs must. Needs must. "Can you repeat that back for me please?"

Vex has come back to him, good. Excellent amazing good. Scar takes the guidance of Vex's hands cleanly, unhesitatingly, laying back and continuing to look up at Vex.

Scar had hoped for a moment that he might get more praise, but he must not have done well enough yet.

Vex uses so many words, all the time. Scar's head swims with them, more than usual currently. He whines when asked to repeat before he can even finish sorting it out in his head. "Hold still so you don't have to hurt me." Scar tries, petty sure that was the main ideas.

"Mostly, yeah. Very good." Cub can see how Hotguy melts into the cot at the praise, no tension left in him. He debates just going for it, but that is not a risk he is willing to take, right now.

"Good." He soothes, again, strategically employing the relaxing effect the praise seems to have on Hotguy. "Now. Hold still. I'm going in." Cub sinks his hand into Hotguy's chest, right above the foreign body.

The moment he shifts his hand out of phase, pain hits him like a brick wall to the face. He'd experienced that once, during a battle. Slamming face first into a brick wall is not high on the list of things he wants to experience again, not to mention the rebuilding of his nose and upper jaw he and Doc had to do. His hand, right now, feels like he is dipping it in hot acid instead of the usual biting cold phasing brings. Sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth, one he hopes Hotguy doesn't notice, he pushes on. Follows the lain out movement paths until he closes his fingers on what feels like something solid.

Cub withdraws his hand, his whole body shaking with effort and from the pain. Dropping whatever it is he just pulled out in the sample container and snapping off his gloves, he collapses onto the floor next to Hotguy's cot.

"G-good job." he manages out, voice shaky. Fumbling for the sample container, he snaps it shut and sets it on the floor. "All done here."

Time to breath, and then call Doc about some antibiotics for Hotguy, and to see if he could take a look at Cub's systems. And maybe look at the bitewound on his neck, which has just started making its presence known again with an angry, deep throbbing. Ow.

The hardest part of holding still, Scar finds, is the building realization that Vex... Look, Scar knows that kind of sucking breath, intimately. Knows the trembling of a body pushed past its limits. It takes everything in Scar, every ounce of time he'd put into training, to keep still instead of reaching out.

Compared to that, the feeling of a hand inside him is almost nothing. Which is a shame, Scar, thinks. He'd have liked to get to enjoy that more. How can he enjoy anything with Vex in that condition?

As soon as Scar is given the all clear, he's sliding off the table, landing hard on protesting knees. Focusing. Sharp. Aware. Focusing on Vex, cupping his cheeks, like Vex did for him.

"What's wrong? Did you get iron poisoning again?" This looks kind of like that, with Vex trembling and even collapsing. Scar doesn't think about how he sounds more like Hotguy than like Scar. How long has Vex been hurting? How has he missed this? There has to be something-

"What can I do to help?" Scar demands, smooth and steady.

"I'll be-" Cub pants. "Fine." He fumbles around, before realizing he does not have his phone on him. "Just- just lemme call Doc. He can help. And give you- Give you the antibiotics you'll need." He laughs out a short, humorless bark. "Hell, he'll probab- probably put me on some too. With that- With that bite you gave me." Cub's fingers flit up to said bite and skim it, only to pull away with a hiss when that hurts.

"How much- how much do you know about- about dressing wounds?" Cub gestures at his neck. Might as well give Hotguy something to do while he gathers the focus necessary for using what they have termed 'BBT'- Brain to Brain Texting.

"I gave-" Scar blinks, touching his fingers to his own lips as the sensation of Vex's skin tearing under his teeth flashes through him briefly, leaving behind pleasant shivers. He flips his hand around, pressing fingers to the reddened skin around the messy tears and punctures. Not just unnaturally warm for Vex, but hot. Too hot. Hot is bad, but also good, Scar heard that a while back.

"Enough. I know enough." Scar closes his eyes a moment. He remembers. Two years ago, a dull knife skittering off an onion and deep into the meat of Scar's hand. A trip to this lab. Vex retrieving wound care materials.

Vex doesn't rearrange his spaces without good reason.

Scar stands, on legs that protest and creak and tremble. He'd wish for his cane, if there were any room in his head for other thoughts. Instead, he moves from one counter to the next, one bit of equipment to the next, anything he can safely lean on. Anything he hasn't been yelled at for touching before.

The trip back is harder, one arm occupied with Vex's first aid kit, the other arm his only support. Scar swings himself along regardless. He has to. Vex is relying on him.

It's with a sigh of relief that Scar sinks down in front of Vex again, laying out all the supplies he'll need in a messy radial pattern, a system he's worked out for treating his own wounds, that keeps him on track. Flows him from one step to the next without having to stop and think about any of it.

Scar is already wholly focused on his task, ignoring what Vex is doing or saying as he begins cleaning and disinfecting the wound with extremely practiced motions. Singular laser target of goal in his mind.

Brain to Brain Texting. It sounds cool in theory, but in practice, like so many things that interface with the brain, it's a balancing game of failsafes and sensitivities, as Cub has come to realize. Take his wings, and their phasing, for example. That ability has an incredibly high sensitivity, and few failsafes. He can essentially trigger in on reflex, or a subconscious whim. A Good thing too, that has saved his life in a fight more than once.

If the texting were on an equal setting to that, he and Doc would basically be constantly texting each other random blurbs of thought. So they lowered the sensitivity until it took active effort, active thinking about it to do, and added what were essentially three send confirmations. Each change, each failsafe came after an unwanted text. The current configuration has held up for over two years at this point though, so it is unlikely that they will have to modify it again.

The only issue with this is it requires concentration to use. Making it far from the convenient thing most would believe it to be.

This means Cub has to blend out everything going on around him to focus enough to compose a simple text to Doc right now.

'Internals messed up. Phasing hurts. Hotguy needs antibiotics against aspiration pneumonia.' The message reads, when he's done with it. Before he can work his way through the extended send confirmations, something cold and biting touches his neck. Cub hisses hard through his teeth and digs his nails into his palm to keep focus, and makes his way through the third confirmation before sagging.

Message sent. Help is on the way.

Scar works nearly without pause. The single only time that he pauses is when Vex sags, Scar taking a moment to rearrange them so Vex can lean on him in such a way that still gives Scar access to the wound. It makes picking up and putting down the supplies a bit more difficult, but Scar manages. Cleaning, disinfecting, covering, sealing. He follows all the steps that have been burned into his hands by the fuckups he's done with his own wounds over the years.

And then Scar's done, leaving a scattering of supplies around them on the floor that Scar doesn't care about. Not when he has a Vex pressed into him.

"You're okay, you did good. You'll be okay." Scar soothes, settling Vex more comfortably against his chest and wrapping his arms around Vex, low across Vex's back.

Vex said something about Doc being on his way, right? That Doc can help. All they have to do is wait. All he has to do is hold Vex close, humming a quiet melody. To watch over and protect Vex, that's all Scar needs.

[whisperwritingstuff]

still thinking about double scars l!cub with pretty gemstones studded along the side of his sculk-tail all glimmery and shimmery and mesmerizing. pretty little bribes from tango, to get his sculk to not eat tango's tech or tools when they work together. glittering speckles all throughout cub's sculk, as it breaks down and absorbs the gemstones, and flickering teal lights in the depths of the larger pieces, drawing the eye to look deeper.

when they discover his sculk likes gold too? cub never stops shimmering under sunlight, veins of gold curled around his skin and flecks of gold through his hair. his regal bearing, in moments of command, has never been so striking, so breathtaking. as if anointed by the sun itself, to lead.

[whisperwritingstuff]

Another delightful bit of hero for sale verse art from Varanere. Such a pretty collar, with such lovely lace and fancy hidden circuits.

e/l Scar's collar

[whisperwritingstuff]

so in the cub mosh pit

e/l cub is a huge hit when he shows up, the other cubs cannot get him talking about his implant tech fast enough. even if l!cub is judging him a tiny bit for the villain stuff. and keeping an ear out for how he talks about his scar. always calling him hotguy makes l!cub a little uneasy, after encountering d!cub, but something about e/l cub holds l!cub back from fully condemning him right off the bat. further study warranted. meanwhile pacrim cub is very focused on the wings. he needs the specs on those PRONTO. he needs every detail of the tech he needs to touch them he has to be talked down from demanding e/l cub open him up Right Now to install ports on his back.

to less fanfare is the entrance of dd!cub, given his quiet and pliant nature. he'll gravitate to any other cub that'll have him, often shadow or l!cub. if d!cub is still around, dd!cub is gonna live rent free in his head for a looooong time.

[whisperwritingstuff]

anyway over in the grian mosh pit hfs e/l grian is looking at these other grians and like. getting a sinking feeling that there may. perhaps. be a pattern here. about them. perhaps. having romantic relations. with two particularly annoying people. who he's telling himself he Won't be getting into a relationship with. especially when they're already busy obsessing over each other!! and being annoying at him!!

like. he can kinda ignore royals gushing about his vex. (what do you Mean thats the name of a species.) and he can mostly ignore main beasts grian fluttering his multiple tiny little wings with a laugh.

but what really gets e/l grian is l!grian just putting a hand on his shoulder and saying "I'm so sorry." in that serious tone, that's when he Knows he's doomed to fall hard for his absolute idiots (he's refusing to accept that he already mostly has)

anyway mains also tells him that cub is confirmed to be the jingler, and e/l grian doesn't stop screaming for An Hour

[whisperwritingstuff]

okay but can you imagine the next scar mosh pit after g!scar comes into existence (the vengeful ghost of dark hero for sale scar, inhabiting d!cub's body)

'hey! who let a cub into the scar party?'

'who cares! dibs!!!'

this man is being Piled On by main and main-adjacent scars. g!scar is immediately swarmed and snuggled by main beasts scar, royals scar, and reverse beasts scar. theirs now!! he's their pillow. non-optional. no escaping den hours. he exists in a puddle of purring and fluttery wings. l!scar tips his head a little, but still wiggles his way onto g!scar's lap. steals his hand. traces the patterns his own scars on g!scar's skin.

dd!scar presses his lips into a line when g!scar snatches his hand back.

sunflowers meanwhile is trying to get a half-decent look at this guy through the writhing pile of snuggly scars, because as far as sunflowers scar knows, this is the first chance he's ever had to see this 'cub' guy that all the other scars go apeshit about for whatever reason. he's so used to pushing down the ache that he doesn't even notice it this time

[whisperwritingstuff]

dick grayson's usual kidnapping routine is going “oh nooooo!!” And “what are you doingggggg!” And “people will look for me!!!!!!!!!” And “you wont get away with this!!!” In a really overblown voice for about 5-10 minutes. Then going soooooo have you done this before? Do you do it often? Do you like kidnapping people? And trying to cajole them into answering via making jokes about how hes a captive audience and can totally be kept oops i mean keep a secret. And then asking them to rank him as a kidnapping victim from 1-10 on various points (entertainment, portability, ransom amount, etc) with the last one being cuteness. am i cuter than the other people youve kidnapped please be honest i can take it.