#no thoughts only allay!scar

[stiffyck]

more allay scar

[sanzusslutt]

She Belongs To Me

Pairing: Bully!Katsuki Bakugo x Y/N

Warnings: bakugo is an ass, baks bullies y/n, blood mentioned, no smut, they hate each other, angst, sa mention but didn���t happen, prob spelling and grammar mistakes just ignore them, sorry if I missed anything..

Authors Note: It’s 3 am and I can’t sleep if I don’t get this out of my system. Now it’s yours.

Thinking about bully Katsuki who made sure to make every day of your life a miserable hell. Throwing your food on the trash can, making fun of you with his friends, pushing you aside when he is walking the aisle you were walking, ripping your notebook, blowing up your stuff, everything he could think of just to make sure you would always remember him.

Unlike Izuku, you weren’t a childhood friend of his. You never were even close to what you could call a friend. You were just someone who could tolerate everything in your path and that’s what you did. Consuming every and last attack of his. You were just another victim. You hated his guts with every cell on your body and so did he.

He wanted to punch your face every time you walked in front of him. He craved to blow your face up when you answered a question correctly. He longed for that desperate look you gave him every time he stand above you, threatening that he would make your life hell. He yearned for every last drop of tear you shed for him every time he hurt you. He lusted after that sense of control when you were standing below him, afraid just by his presence. He ached for your teary eyes, begging him not to leave another scar on your body. He hated thinking about that look all the fucking time. He despised every time he thought of you on the ground, begging him. He loathed looking at you talk to other brainless guys who only want to use you for your mesmerising body. He was repelled by the damn thought of seeing you with someone.

But here you were, in an abandoned allay, close to the school, cornered by an idiot who thought he could have you his way. The stone wall felt cold as your back touched it in hopes you could get away. Your thighs trembled, the fear only getting bigger inside your stomach. The brown haired boy stepped closer, placing his hand on the wall next to your head, excluding any possibility of escape. His other hand found place on your waist, causing a nauseous feeling in your stomach as every thought of what he could do, hit you like a train. Tears started building on your eyes as you heard a voice you could recognise for miles away since it haunted you in your worst nightmares.

“The fuck are you doing, bastard?” Katsuki’s quiet voice hold a threatening tone but this time it wasn’t directed to you. The brown haired idiot’s head immediately flew to the side at the question but the only thing that fell from his lips when he saw Katsuki was just a huff.

“You thought you could have her only for yourself?” The idiot asked. The threatening look the blond boy gave to that dunce was clearer than the fucking sky. Your handsome blond bully walked slowly towards you two but his now, dark eyes were locked to the boy above you. His stroll seemed ignorant but his deadly eyes told a different story.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Huh?” Katsuki questioned. His tone now even more intimidating. His hand flew off his pocket, tiny explosions start to form as he stretched his fingers. The darkening in his red eyes grew and by the time he stood right before the brown haired fool, they became darker than his own heart.

“Ya think you can just do whatever the fuck you want with someone who belongs to me?” Bakugo laughed. Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words. Not from love or excitement but from pure shock.

“Belongs to you? I don’t think she likes you more than m-“ The idiot didn’t have the time to finish his sentence as a loud explosion from Katsuki landed right on his moron face, landing him on the hard ground and scaring you the fuck out.

The brown haired fool laid on the ground as those red eyes finally looked your way. They softened as they fell on your gaze and his body lost the stiffness it previously had. He looked up and down your figure and then turned his eyes to the end of the allay. His body soon followed as he made his way out of the deadlock.

“Thank.. you..” those were some words you never thought you would say to someone who hurt you. Especially Katsuki.

“Don’t expect me to run every time you’re in trouble.” His tone was familiarly harsh. Just when you had a feeling of hope that something in him would change, it vanished as fast as it came.

Those red eyes looked at you one last time before he made the turn that exited the unpopular allay. You were now alone, kneeling against the cold wall, with a semi-conscious body and your own stupid thoughts. Thoughts that always had that spark of hope for Katsuki..

Want me to make more bully Baku? I really like the idea to be honest..

[regularconvexheadcanons]

oKAY BUT CUBS OBSESSION WITH SCAR IS SOMETHING NO ONE CAN BREAK- THE I D E A S- (also hi sculk scar anon again :3)

1: Cub Totally uses Scar as a basis for spite specifically! Or at least Scar level spite (then you get Grian level instigation, Doc level revenge, aaaand honestly Cub uses himself as a Knows It level to see how others vary on what they know like parkour and different mechanics for it in the Labyrinths case - everyone elses mini games and businesses are enough data on their own, talkings just a bonus)

2: Cub had to lock himself away, listen to the Songs of the Vex and later the Sculk, when Grian was soulbound to Scar. Already Grian was connected to Mumbo, Grian already was paired up! Scar was *His* proven and Earned soulhalf- Sometimes he can only be brought out of his jealousy by the Vex, other times he calls Scar over and covers absolutely Covers Scar in jewelry while looking at their shared earring/necklace/ring/piercing. They may not have the Cathedral anymore but hell if Cub didn't know how to make Scar feel like an altar, worshipped and made *perfect*.

3: Though course connected as they are, Cub is near by, watches, listens, plans, *lives* near Scar in ways the other Hermits could never even Attempt. But Scars version? It's Being. Cub is near by? Scar slows, stops, flies predictably. Cubs watching? He becomes more animated, smiley, putting on a him sized puppet show for Cub. He's listening to Scar? More inflection, tone, stylized pacing- ends some stories as "For the one and only, Cubfan!" Planning is Inevitable for those two. Living?

They are Vex. They have always been before and after. Even Watchers look on, envious of the Connection eyes cannot achieve.

...aNYWAY- Hope yall like it :D (need more convex crumbs I am Dying)

1: Yep. Definitely. Scar spites, and holds grudges, and gives his friends the cold shoulder like no one else. But never towards Cub. They’re not sure if it’s a vex thing, but Vex definitely hold grudges, so it’s probably part of it

2: ooooh yess. Cub would definitely be at least a little bit jealous and begrudging of Grian for being Scar’s soulmate, and respond by treating Scar even better than usual. For so many reasons. A: how the other soulmate pairs get to act around each other without anyone questioning. He and Scar are happy to be close and affectionate in private, but being able to do that more publicly without the other players teasing them for it? Yes. Cub needs that.

b: he’s heard Scar’s stories of Grian being distant and rude and then later cheating in Scar. He knows Scar just wants an ally who cares for him. Grian has a chance to be as friendly and excited and caring with Scar as he is in Hermitcraft and he’s blowing it completely. (Which also made Cub wonder if Grian was faking it in Hermitcraft) C: one of my headcanons is that during Double Life, Cub ALSO feels the Scar and Grian’s injuries (but as phantom pain), even stronger than usual. And then Grian saying how Scar’s always getting hurt when he really isn’t. And Cub can’t quite understand Grian’s problem.

Also, on the same point, I want to know more about this Song of the Vex. I love it. Clearly it’s something that calms vexlings down, perhaps something only vexlings can hear. And maybe allays as well, and the allays are either calmed by it, or it makes them act up. And other players are really confused. I can imagine a lot of humming, no real lyrics. But a lot of pent of emotion. And now that’s led me to a thought that Vex - and Vexlings - hum when they’re happy. Like the equivalent of cats purring.

3: Scar putting on a show of normal everyday things whenever Cub’s around? Yes. So much yes. Anything he can to make Cub’s day that little bit brighter. And when Cub’s in a conversation with other hermits, Scar sometimes appears behind and Cub’ll be left trying to explain Scar’s antics. And he never quite can explain how Scar made him laugh in a way that the other hermits understand. In the same way neither of them can explain how they understand their secret non-verbal language of tiny movements, or what any particular movement means. They just have that connection with each other. Is it the Vex? Probably. Are they in love with each other? Only in a QPR way. But would they exchange that feeling for anything else? Absolutely not.

[hermitscratch]

6., and Scarian please!

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

6. A desperate kiss, Scar/Grian, 639 words

Grian hailed Double Life as one of his greatest ideas yet.

The concept presented so much potential: bind the players in randomly generated pairs and make surviving a them problem. Sharing a life so completely opened doors to new strategies, new necessities, and most importantly, new collaborations. Grian had worked out the odds. With their group of fourteen, the likelihood was that most of the pairs would be between people who had never before teamed in the game, or in some cases, never really spoken outside of it.

Joel and Etho were a great example of the former. They'd both flown the Dogwarts banner, back in Third Life, but their interactions were brief and non-committal. The only unified front Grian can recall them ever posing was when a TNT cannon had been involved. They shared a common goal now, and it didn't take long for them to fall in step with each other, especially when they wanted to drum up some mischief.

On the other side of things, there were Tango and Jimmy. The only pair to be united in death, and as much as Grian would like to write them off, once the dirt of their explosive meeting settled, they took to being soulmates like fish to water. Losing everything would do that to you, Grian supposed; Tango and Jimmy returned from that respawn with nothing gained but each other, and that was enough.

Grian probably wouldn't break up those pairs. Maybe some of the ones that weren't as enthused about their matches, like Scott and Pearl. Or the ones that didn't seem to click at all, like Cleo and Martyn. In the long run, it didn't matter much. Grian would take anybody, so long as it wasn't Scar.

Scar, who went the entire session thus far laying claim to other soulmates.

Scar, who misconstrued Grian's concern for his wellbeing as plain early-game kindness.

After the second failed attempt at telling Scar that the universe's sick sense of humor had seen it fit to tie them together, again, Grian started to wonder if the ignorance was willful.

They didn't have much longer before session hours ended. At least Scar was easy to find, sat at the edge of the jungle and surrounded by the odd, cat-like pandas he'd taken a liking to.

The first try was a bust. Scar looked away when the pandas followed him, the flash of damage shooting through them both going entirely unnoticed, and Grian made a frustrated sound. Four hearts gone, for nothing.

They could only afford one more hit. Grian reset the dripstone, repositioned Scar beneath it, and told him firmly, look at me.

Scar looked up.

The dripstone's point nailed him between the eyes and crumbled. Scar yelped, brushing blood and residue from his face, not even noticing Grian in the same position. They were down to two hearts. They were too hungry to regenerate.

Grian felt a hair's width from losing his mind. He took Scar's face and forced them to locked eyes. It's me, He wanted to scream, Not the allay or the stupid pandas, me. It's always me, always us, don't you see that?

It's been that way since the desert, back in Third Life. Together in the beginning, together in the end. Scar was flippant, clumsy. He was also strong, and clever, and fiercely protective of what he valued. Resources, bases, allies.

Grian.

Grian recalled a handful of lilacs and poppies, and an uncharacteristically small voice asking if they could still be friends with the same look in his eyes that Grian was seeing now. Cautious, hopeful.

He pulled Scar forward. It's us against the world again, He thought desperately as he stole Scar's very breath. When Scar kissed him back, hands holding his waist and pressed chest to chest, Grian thought Scar might have finally understood.

[scp-10000]

So everyone and their mother loves the Convex Cannibal trope, but I have the headcanon that they can't bite for shit

instead of feeling like a lonely outlier, i'm gonna use this to put a unique spin on the trope

According to me, Vex and Allay came from a being called PanFae who is also the reason Glow Squid and Jellie Cats exist had children, two of them being the first vex and the first allay. The first vex once got really hungry and managed to kill a demon with only their teeth and half a spoon, but after the killing bite they thought the demon was too spicy and just left the dead body there. The demon's older brother found the body and was not only incensed by the killing of his sibling but also the fact that whoever killed his sibling did not finish their meal, so he cursed the whole family, not just the one who killed his sibling, with weak bite force and teeth not much better than a human baby's. This lead to a few generations of vex down the line inventing minced meat so they can still eat the people they managed to kill.

Funnily enough, Cub and Scar inherited the first vexe's spice tolerance.

[hyperesthesias]

Absence of Faith

Note: This is an excerpt from a fanfiction I probably won't write in its entirety. But this scene has stood out to me lately, for reasons related to things going on in my personal life. If you'd like listening material while you read, Sibeling by Depeche Mode is what I wrote this to.

Context: Viktor is involved with a woman named Anya. They grew up in the same area, and lost contact. They reconnected later in Piltover, shortly before he met Jayce. Anya is an alumnus of the Academy, she is a mage and a theoretical physicist, and a patron for Viktor and later HexTech. In this scene, she has been injured after being caught between the violence in the undercity. (She recovers and is fine, though it's not depicted here.)

potential warnings: unconsciousness, pregnancy, viktor is pro-choice, infertility, terminal illness.

Next chapter

Viktor stood perched against the side of the hospital bed where Anya lay. His cane languishing against his better hip, his eyes cast down on the shadowed floor – the thoughts that plagued his mind seemed to spiral between everything and nothing. The fragility of life, the certainty of death. With his own terminal diagnosis a week prior, the lament of death was still acrid on his tongue. 

Thoughts of what could be. Thoughts of what could have been. 

Anya lay silent, placid – the pallor that hung over her like a threat made his chest grow weak. She was fine, the nurse reassured him. The doctor had prescribed a mild sedative. She needed rest if the bruises and swelling were going to resolve themselves. 

It didn’t quiet his mind any.

But having Jayce there, even if there was nothing he could do, anchored him. His friend, his confidant. Jayce was seemingly impervious to the wrongdoing of the world – a perfectly tanned hide from which things could bounce and roll. He was strong, weathered. Viktor was only the latter, and every day his body reminded him of it. 

Another nurse came through the door with a blood pressure machine trailing behind her. No words were spoken, Viktor only moved his cane and watched as the woman tended to his beloved. The reading was low, but not overly concerning – after years of his own ailing health, he had grown accustomed to what was worrying and what wasn’t. It still didn’t allay him.

“Are you her next of kin?” she asked.

“I am. I am her husband,” Viktor said. He shuffled to turn himself towards the bedside.

Jayce pretended not to hear anything as the nurse began to go over Anya’s health with him.

“Her blood pressure isn’t bad, but the doctor may want to keep her overnight to monitor her and the pregnancy. How far along is she?” 

“Ten weeks.”

The nurse wrote her notations. “I will keep you updated on what the doctor has to say.”

He didn’t look up when the nurse left, he kept his sight on Anya. His thumb brushed over her cold hand, it was usually his hands that were frigid and sharp to the touch, Anya’s usually warm and soft, like the honey color of her skin. He swallowed silently. 

“You didn’t say she was pregnant,” Jayce said.

Viktor half turned to look at his friend, though his sight was still held captive by his beloved. “She asked me not to.” 

There was no malice in Jayce, but fear of betrayal and the doubt that Anya did not trust him – even despite their own friendship.

“We were unsure how we were going to proceed,” he continued. “I told her whatever she decided, I would support her.”

Jayce tensed his teeth and took a breath as his friend finally parted from her side. He chose his words carefully, and veiled. “You told me a long time ago you couldn’t have children.”

Viktor shot him a glance as he took a seat beside him on the other end of the room from Anya’s bed. “There was always a fraction of a chance.” The chemical runoff that had scarred his lungs had also devastated other aspects of his health. Prolonged exposure throughout his childhood and young adulthood had rendered him barren. The lasting effects of polio robbed him of the capability of unaided pleasure. It wasn’t enough that the people of Zaun suffered in poverty, they were also denied the ability of reproduction and desire. 

Anger seethed in his mouth. It burned his tongue as his eyes lain fixated on Anya. Tensions between the upper and under cities were too high for her to have been wandering the Lanes in her condition. He should have stopped her, he should have gone in her place, he should have forbidden her. 

A scoff pulled at his lips as he thought of her outrage that he should forbid her from something. She was strong willed and vibrant. It was his only comfort that she would fare well despite the pain she was in. The child inside of her was another matter. 

His braced leg extended, Viktor laid back in the chair and rested his head on the wall behind him. “I would make a terrible parent,” he said to no one in particular.

Jayce furrowed and looked at him, incredulous. “I think you’d make a great father. You’re smart. The world needs more smart parents.”

Viktor rolled his head along the wall. “I am too self centered. Too preoccupied with my own thoughts. My own endeavours. I would be neglectful.”

“Your parents were inventors, too, weren’t they? It’s not impossible to do both.”

“Not impossible. Improbable.”

Jayce almost laughed, but his heart was too heavy. “So was your chance of having children.”

Viktor ebbed his head to look at his friend, a blank expression written across his face.

Despite his doubts about himself, his faith in Anya prevailed. She would have been an excellent parent – attentive, fair, thoughtful, intelligent; qualities that drew him to her in the first place. She always made an effort to include him when they were children living in the Fissures; she never forgot him, never forgot his name. Even after almost fifteen years had passed since they had seen each other in childhood, after they reconnected, her judicious and kind demeanour had never left her. She remained a constant in his life, despite the time they had spent apart. 

Viktor did not believe in God, neither Fate, but he gave credence to happy, and unhappy, coincidence – statistical anomalies that varied in subjective favor. Meeting Anya again had been as close as he had come to seeing the face of God, to seeing the strings of Fate.

His life had only improved since she had been in it. Something akin to hope and something close to happiness had found him. They followed her into his path. 

The thought of losing her was something he chose not to hold onto. It was his life that hung in the balance, not hers. That is always how it was meant to be. He knew himself to be a doomed man from a young age – children from the Fissures don’t often have long lifespans. 

Only that he did not expect his time to come so early, when life seemed better.

But Anya was a different species than him, altogether. A species afforded with long life, with thicker bones and thicker blood. She would have outlived him anyway, despite her immunity to the fumes and fluids of the Fissures. 

It made him wonder about the child they had conceived – the statistical anomalies it would possess. Would it inherit the immunity offered by its mother? Or the weakness of the flesh by its father? Would it have her eyes? Or perhaps his own sense of humor?

Would he be alive to see it born?

“Promise me you will look after her.” Viktor did not look at Jayce. 

Jayce bowed his head. He did not answer.

Viktor did not need him to. The faith he had in his friend, in those he loved, was the only faith and entity he needed.

“It is a terrible irony. That I should create life. While losing my own.”

[bluiex]

.... has anyone ever considered the possibility of allay and vex being sexual dimorphism within the same species?

They look similar and are similar sizes with small differences (color and wings, for example), and have vastly different temperaments that seem to fill in for each other (the allay are gentle and non-hostile and they bring things from one location to another which could suggest nesting behavior, while vex are aggressive and hostile, which would be useful for protecting a nesting non-agressive mate)....

I personally like the idea that they're two different, but compatible, species (predator and prey species ofc) that are possibly unisex but I feel like there could be an argument made here that they're actually the same species...

(I know this is. Not at all the kinds of posts you usually get but. I am having thoughts with this one, in regards to vex! Cub and allay! Scar, and how they both do not fit in with their respective group (Cub being less aggressive than a vex and Scar being more aggressive than an allay, for example) and how even these two can find an "other half" who completes them- oops, I just got sappy about it, sorry-)

I think it's actually canon in minecraft lore that Allay are Vex, before being turned Vex?

But I like your idea of them anyhow! You can headcanon them however you want! That's the fun in characters and world building! Making it our own and kicking Canon out the window :D

Ive always adored it to where Cub is the Vex and Scar being the allay, but Scar acts more Vex than Cub lmao it's awfully cute. But Cub just learned how to control it, and only let's his true nature slide when it comes to Scar and protecting those he loves

[karihigada]

thistle and thorn

for CubScar Week on Tumblr @cubscarweek

day 7 - vex/allay

its 3,4k so you might want to Read on AO3

when a curse binds their souls, cub and scar have no choice but to travel to the wellspring of magic in order to try and break their unwanted connection

Cub curled into the leaves that made his bedroll, deliberately turning his back to the allay. His claws clenched into his arms in an effort to keep from reaching out. Wrapping his leathery wings around himself to shield from the chill, hyper-aware of the presence at the other side of the burrow, despite not wanting to be.

This was horrible.

It was horrible and the only thing making it worse was that he had no one to blame but himself. Even though he wanted to spit all his frustrations into the allay’s face.

Something painful and unwanted twisted in his chest at the thought. At the thought that Scar would meekly take it. Would accept the blame and Cub's anger and try to appease it with calm words and soothing actions.

And Cub hated that he never wanted to see that expression on the other’s face. This pained watery smile of acceptance that he could imagine so clearly on Scar and yet hoped to never witness.

Cub hated and hated and tried to hate but as soon as he summoned the feeling and held onto it, it lost its fangs and shriveled and faded, leaving just a dull ache and blame faced inward and a desire to reach out and hold and seek comfort in the other.

Cub was a vex, for crying out loud. He shouldn't be this- this soft. This hesitating.

He should be vicious and gleeful at another's suffering, and actively contribute to it. He should look out only for himself and his pack. Not be stuck here with some weak faulty allay.

And it was all because-

Cub curled up tighter, shivering in the cold. He had no one to blame but himself. Himself and some old fairy tale. Meant to scare, meant to teach caution. Meant to instill in young vex the sense to stay away from their estranged kin.

How was Cub supposed to have known it was actually true ? It was just an old vex tale!

"Don't take magic of the strayed ones, no matter how dire the situation. Don't share your essence with another, lest you invite the curse of two, the curse of shared pain."

Cub shivered. He remembered the feeling. Being near death, scared, desperate. And he remembered another's essence flowing into him, mingling and merging with his own. Blooming these unwanted feelings, this unwanted connection. But also saving him.

He remembered lying in the grass, unable to move, wracked with pain. The beast that had attacked him leaving him for dead.

He remembered a face. Coloured in apprehension and caution, and yet possessing enough compassion to come closer regardless.

Large soft green eyes looking at him. Similar to his, but lighter, brighter. Kinder.

He didn't remember the first thing Scar said to him. (But knowing Scar now, it must have been something stupid, like asking if he was okay.)

Cub had looked at the allay next to him, at the flush of life on the other's blue cheeks, and thought he wanted some of that life. Cub had thought he didn't want to die.

When he raised his hand Scar had taken it with little hesitation, sitting down next to Cub in the trampled-down grass.

For a magic that was cautioned against, for something that was forbidden, it was startlingly natural and came easy. Cub had pulled at Scar, at his essence, and at the same time offered some of his. A two way exchange, a connection. Scar had gasped, eyes wide. Cub had no idea what allay were told of the curse. If the stories were the same as for vex. He could have refused, he could have torn himself away, left Cub to his fate. But he didn't. Scar tentatively accepted Cub, let Cub's weakened being flow into him, and share some of his own vitality in turn. Their magics mingled, balanced. Some of the other settling in their own chest.

It was only later that Cub realized this had been their undoing. The curse. Because the bit of Scar's essence flowing through his veins ceaselessly called for the other. Yearned for closeness, companionship, unity. Affection.

And he knew it was the same for Scar, otherwise they would not have been in this situation right now.

The curse had taken frighteningly little time to make itself known. 

After Cub was able to move again he had torn himself away from Scar, putting some distance between himself and a possible enemy. Snarled. It was the first real look he had gotten at Scar, still sitting where Cub had lain, looking at Cub with wide eyes, breath shallow.

Cub could have killed him. Thinking back to it Cub liked to think it wasn't yet because of the curse that he hadn’t, but simply because it would have been dishonest, vile, harming the one who had saved him.

So Cub had fled. Hurried back to his clan, ready to completely forget about all of this, never speak or think of it again.

In the night the pull had started. Something inside Cub telling him a part of him was missing, that he was not where he should be. It left Cub restless and on edge for the following days. Snapping at his comrades, actually getting into a fight when another vex snickered that his head wasn't present, that he was a liability that would hinder the collective.

Once the doctors had examined him, to Cub's horror it had become startlingly clear to his superiors what had happened. They had called him a traitor. Defiled. Attached . Cub had no choice but to leave with the snarls of his former companions at his back.

Despite all his previous accomplishments, and all the favour he used to hold, the clan head had seen him only once, to tell him he could return after he took care of the issue. Cub clenched his jaw at the memory.

He left in the direction the pull drew him in, and little time later he had found Scar in the fields.

Scar who said he had left his clan of his own volition because his heart told him he wanted to be with Cub.

Cub had sneered, had called him stupid. But as soon as Scar had taken his hand and smiled brightly at him, saying he was glad to meet Cub properly, all anger had dissipated against Cub's will, leaving only a feeling of foreign yet calming contentment when he looked into Scar's green eyes.

And it was impossible to get rid of. Once two essences have combined, it was impossible to untangle by normal means.

He could kill Scar. He could- it was what his superiors expected of him. Expected him to return a free vex once again, maybe carrying the allay's wings as a trophy.

But Cub couldn't. Every fiber in his being revolted. And for once it wasn't just the curse forcing him to care for the other, to look out for him. It wouldn't be fair. That Cub killed him after he had saved his life. Tearing him away from his own life. (Though by Scar's talk, he didn't terribly mind being away from his clan, instead enjoying the adventure).

Cub shook his head. He was thinking in circles again.

So instead they were traveling north, to the wellspring of magic. In order to flush the foreign magic in their bodies out. To hopefully return to normal, to get rid of this connection binding them, and these unwanted feelings.

The trip so far had been…

They couldn't simply fly. Loath as Cub was to admit it, even he wouldn't have been able to cover all that distance easily. But they couldn't even fly some of the way because-

Annoyance rose in Cub's chest but settled just as fast into acceptance.

"I- I can't fly very well", Scar had said with an apologetic look. "I can fly! Just not very good. I get tired easily…" he had wrung his hands, shoulders drawn into himself. With some annoyance Cub had thought that even like this Scar was still slightly taller than him.

"But I can walk! I'm a positive champion at walking!" the grin on Scar's face had been bright.

So walking it was.

Traveling by foot, Cub was no stranger to. Neither to sleeping outside, in animal burrows or under roots and rocks. It was unpleasant in the long term, but doable. He was frankly surprised a dainty little allay wasn't complaining about the discomfort.

Instead Scar kept up frequent chatter, asking Cub about himself and about vex. Or talking about his life in the allay clan.

And every night Scar made bedrolls for two.

Gathering materials and foraging for food. He was good at it, Cub had to admit. Scar said these were among his responsibilities back at his clan. He liked giving living spaces a certain something that made them feel like home.

'This wasn't their home', Cub bit his tongue not to say.

Cub hunted and gathered his own food. One time he found purple crystal shards in the ground near a cave entrance. He knew they were favourites of allay. Before he could wonder if it was the same for Scar and before he could think better of it, Cub had brought some back to their current burrow.

Scar's smile had been radiant.

Scar insisted they share. Cub had never tried them before. Sitting next to Scar, they had been sweet and crunchy. It had been good.

Like this the days of their travel passed. 

Today they arrived at a high forest. The large rocks and roots made traversal difficult. How much Cub wished they could just fly. Instead, he gingerly helped Scar climb over every obstacle, holding the allay's hand and slowly pulling him along. Stopping occasionally to rest. Cub wanted his mood to be soured by the procedure, but instead there was just a resigned acceptance. Something inside him, the curse he was sure, wouldn't let him blame Scar or be cross with him. Instead told him to be kind and accommodating. Cub was too tired to fight it. Logically, he also knew that getting angry wouldn't actually change anything or make Scar walk faster. Not without tiring himself out more, forcing them to rest earlier.

But nonetheless Scar was sure to think Cub was unhappy, because he kept apologizing. Cub was so close to telling him to stuff it, but he knew it would be no use.

Then suddenly Cub sensed something, his hackles rising. On instinct he pulled Scar behind him, put himself between Scar and the direction he felt the danger from, readying his weapon.

A beast five times their size emerged from the thicket. A fast one, Cub knew. Its fur grey, body held low to the ground on its four legs. A hunting stance. Cub cursed their luck.

Its green eyes were piercing, slitted pupils trained on them. Trained on something behind Cub-

It recognised the weaker of its prey.

Terror seized Cub's chest, flushing him hot and cold at the same time. He was terrifyingly aware of Scar behind him. Scar, untrained in combat, unable to fly away fast enough.

Cub pulled himself up to his full height, wings flaring to make himself bigger. He screeched viciously, baring his fangs and training his sword on the beast, every muscle taut. Blood was rushing in his ears.

It was a standstill. The only thing in Cub's mind was to protect his bond mate at all cost.

Cub jumped when there was a touch at his arm, making the mistake of taking his eyes off the beast to turn his head to Scar.

Scar had a wide-eyed look of wonder on his face, and like a fool, absolutely no fear. Had he never encountered this type of beast before? Surely Scar had to possess some kind of survival instinct.

To Cub's horror, Scar pushed past him, approaching the beast. Cub hissed at him to get back, trying to grab his arm. Something vicious inside Cub roared at the scene of his bond mate being so close to danger.

But Scar just cooed, speaking to the beast in a melodic tone, half singing and half talking. A magical undercurrent to his voice.

Watching Scar tame the beast had been incredible. 

Cub was left speechless, his breath catching. The beast's large body flopped to the ground, the tension of the hunt leaving it as Scar scratched its ears and chin.

A low purr permeated the air. Its green eyes closed, self-satisfied, as Scar was speaking to it in calm tones.

Cub could do nothing but stare, something unnameable spreading in his chest at the sight.

Minutes must have passed like this, the only sound being Scar's voice weaving a spell around the beast, and Cub's heartbeat in his ears.

The beast rubbed its head against Scar and he laughed. Finally he turned to face Cub, holding out his hand to beckon Cub closer.

Cub met Scar's gaze, not sure what he was looking for. Scar just smiled at him easily. Cub gripped his weapon tighter and slowly stepped foward. Scar took his hand, holding it out for the beast to examine, and Cub instantly tensed. Scar spoke quietly, with that melodic voice of his, that it was okay, that they were all friends. Cub wasn't sure if it was meant for the beast or for him.

The beast sniffed his hand and his body for a terrifyingly long moment, Cub holding his breath. He knew that if the beast decided to attack it would be too close for him to react, too late to protect Scar and himself. Beside him, Scar was a calm presence.

Eventually the beast rubbed its head against his chest the same way it did with Scar, Cub feeling its low purring sound reverberate through his body. Its fur was soft.

"That's it, Jellie, we're all friends here." Scar praised, scratching behind its ear.

"Jellie?" Cub asked, very aware of the beast's cold nose rubbing against his sternum and Scar's warm hand in his. His other hand relaxed the grip on his weapon.

"She looks like a Jellie!" Scar's smile was bright.

Cub just stared. "How did you do this?"

"Oh, us allay can make friends with everyone!" Scar laughed, then grimaced. "Well, nearly everyone. Some monsters are beyond reasoning."

But how? Cub wanted to ask. Is this how you got me as well? he didn't dare think.

Scar turned to him fully. "I was thinking! Since climbing through this jungle takes forever, you think Jellie can give us a ride? This is her turf, she is sure to know the way!"

Cub blinked at Scar, uncomprehending. "What-"

Scar slipped his hand out of Cub's, burying both in the beast’s fur and shaking it. "What do you think, Jellie? You think you can take us further north?"

Cub had no idea how the beast could possibly comprehend what was said to it, but after a moment and more of Scar's ministrations its large body moved.

Cub tensed when it rose upright. It looked at Cub unblinking before its mouth opened in a long yawn. Cub got a good look at its teeth. This was a horrible idea.

Scar took hold of fistfuls of fur and pulled himself up on the beast's back, his wings fluttering. He settled behind its head with a grin, then he held out a hand to Cub expectantly.

This was mad. This was absolute madness. This was-

Cub took Scar's hand.

The feeling of thick fur underneath his hands and body was familiar and yet foreign as he settled behind Scar. Beast's pelts were a rare commodity. It would take a handful of vex to take one down, and then splitting the spoils was always a chore, every vex wanting the largest share for themselves.

"Well then, Jellie. Off we go!" Scar called cheerfully, shaking Cub out of his thoughts.

Luckily the beast didn't immediately spring into action as Cub had feared. Instead, it gracefully rose to its feet with the unfamiliar load on its back and started walking leisurely.

It went at a good pace for a while, Cub strung tight like a bow, clutching the beast’s fur to keep upright.

It was when the beast readied for a jump to a nearby rock that Cub felt his center of gravity shift backwards and panic rose in his chest. He threw his arms around Scar, desperate to hold on.

After the jump, the beast kept a fast pace and took several more leaps, Cub screwing his eyes shut and keeping his forehead pressed against Scar's back.

It was only Scar's bright laugh that made him open his eyes.

The view had been spectacular, the jungle rushing past them, other beasts unable to give chase. Scar had done this. Scar, in his arms, warm and solid and brave and strong. Different to how Cub had initially thought.

He had always thought allay were dull and uninteresting. Weak. He had thought Scar was the same. Weak. Unable to fly. Always eager to please. Always cheerful. His-

Cub screwed his eyes shut again. Scar wasn't his bond mate. It was just the curse making him think like this.

Cub came back to himself in the burrow, the day's events dissolving before his mind's eye as he clutched his claws into his arms. He was a fool, letting the curse get to him like this.

True to Scar's word, the beast had taken them much farther than they would have been able to by themselves. Scar bid it farewell, thanking it with a bright voice, the beast rubbing its face against him one last time.

Scar had turned to Cub, and slowly Cub had dared to scratch behind its ear as well. Scar's grin had been wide.

Eventually, they had found a place for the night, and after getting it ready and eating the food they carried on them, Cub was left to his own thoughts, traitorous as they were.

On the beast - Jellie. Scar had called it Jellie. Riding on Jellie, Scar in his arms had been so warm and solid. Holding him had felt so right. Being so close had felt good, Cub yearned for it again.

Cub was a fool. He never should have agreed to going with Scar's idea. Knowing the feeling of the allay in his arms now, how could Cub live without it in the future?

He felt cold.

Lost in his thoughts, Cub didn't notice the movement on the other side of the burrow until it was too late. Too close.

If it was anyone else Cub would have been reaching for his weapon.

"Are you still awake?" Scar's voice was little more than a whisper in the silence of the night. Cub didn't answer.

Scar waited for a reaction and when he received none, he exhaled a quiet breath. "Perhaps it is better this way. Like this, you won't hate me until the morning."

Cub's breath caught in his chest. Was Scar planning to run away?

"I'm sorry, I just-" Scar's voice trembled. "Please let me have this."

Cub held his breath. He had no idea how to confront Scar if the other planned to abandon him and their goal. He had never considered the possibility.

But instead of leaving, there was a tentative soft touch at his shoulder, a loose arm wrapping around his middle and a sudden familiar warmth at his back.

Scar settled behind him, laying his thin wings over the both of them. They were so very fragile, it felt so intimate. Trusting.

Cub felt the briefest touch of lips on his shoulder and something inside him shattered, a broken whimper escaping him. The arms around him tightened, but Scar didn't say a word.

And it was better like this, Cub had no idea how to acknowledge the feelings soaring in his chest. It was easier to squeeze his eyes shut and pretend he wasn't to blame for this, that it wasn't his doing.

He relaxed into Scar's touch.

They stayed like this until the morning when light started to stream into the burrow.

When he awoke Cub felt more at peace than he had in a long time, like a hole in his chest had been filled.

They didn't speak of it. They packed their meager belongings and headed back out into the woods.

Come the next night, Scar no longer made two bedrolls.

Fighting the curse was impossible.

.

this is definitely the biggest thing to come out of me for this cubscar week haha. this au is pretty recent and came to me when thinking back to a book series I read as a child, das wolkenvolk by kai meyer, and how there was a plot point where the protagonist and a villain had feelings of love forced onto them through a magical bond. and then of course I put convex into it and chewed @kieiswrite ear off over it and together it developed into something wonderful :D

and this was the cubscar week. i didnt fill all prompts but it was a lot of fun! it was so good to see so many new convex works <3

there is more about this au, their travels, if they manage to break the curse, or genuinely grow closer. a possible future. or all other aus. send me an ask about it :D

[identityflawed]

captain rex character study

tw: battle scene, death, gore, odd thoughts

---

REX SOMETIMES FELT small. Laughably small, inanely so, like a tick on the mane of a manka cat, plucked off by a tamer and squished thoughtlessly between their fingers. Dead in an instant, with no knowledge of just how vast the real world was. No funerals for the bloodsucker, no mourners for the soldier.

Such emotions were an irregularity, almost certainly carried into his mind on the backs of war machines and mass destruction. Back on Kamino, in the barracks he shared with his birth cohort, he’d never felt like this. The pristine halls of Tipoca City were claustrophobic, despite the height of the Kaminoans that so often traversed them. He’d asked his brothers, in their quieter moments, if they’d experienced this oddity. Some said yes, some said no, others said they had no clue what he was trying to say.

Even his accelerated growth modifications did little to allay this… feeling. If he thought about it for too long, his head would begin to hurt. The complexities of his existence — twenty-four years of life, training and biological processes in a mere decade — were utterly useless in the face of a droid army’s blaster rifles and rhythmic footfalls.

And that was what he stared down now, so he stowed away his foible and ran headlong into battle alongside his men.

Christophsis, by all accounts, was a beautiful city with less-than beautiful people. Rex was born and raised seeing nothing but identical faces and his long-necked creators, and he'd thought that he'd be able to enjoy the new people he might meet while fulfilling his duty.

Not here.

Christophsians had a tendency to look down on those who immigrated from off-world, employing them as slaves or underpaid labor workers in the crystal mines that mapped the underside of their capital, Chaleydonia. Once renowned for its glittering crystalline skyscrapers and impeccably-made jewelry, the so-called Crystal City now sat in ruins, blue-green fragments breaking under Rex’s boots.

The buildings at the center of the City Plaza had suffered the most damage from Republic artillery, cannon fire shaking the ground from behind clone forces with distinct pauses between. Rex could picture his brothers hoisting steel shells into the cannon, calling aloud to send another streaking bolt of blue towards the clanker ranks.

He shook the image out of his head and focused on what was in front of him. His helmet HUD lit up in a frenzy, identifying standard B-1s, silver SBDs, the spindly legs of rotating spider droids and the rumbling overture of approaching tanks. Packed in as he was with his men on a standard frontal assault, it was difficult to bob and weave from the blaster fire. In his periphery, a few clones were shot down. Headshots sent a static noise through their shared comm line, but Rex found it within himself not to wince.

Droids numbered in the thousands as they surged through the ruined city, spewing superheated scarlet volleys towards them. A new squadron of spider droids reached the forefront of their attack, their turrets firing in sluggish, powerful bursts. Rex dove to the side to avoid the onslaught, and the ground where he’d been standing was instantly scorched and scarred by the shrieking hyphen of gas.

He rolled over his shoulder and popped back up just in time to see a darkened silhouette landing atop the spider droid’s sloping carapace. A pillar of sky-blue light illuminated in the figure’s hand, driven straight into the droid’s head. In one smooth, coordinated move, the silhouette hung from the saber and dragged it down the droid’s head, before sweeping it wide and relieving the machine of its only weapon. A final slice at the legs on the way down, and the droid crumpled in a whining, whirring heap, smoke and sparks pouring from the question mark -shape drawn across its body. The droids caught beneath it in its dying collapse let out shrieking wails as they were easily dispatched by nearby clones.

General Skywalker couldn’t deny himself a dramatic entrance, and Rex was glad that his commanding officer had skill to match his melodramatic flair. The golden-haired Jedi found Rex in the mess of things, but recognition was fleeting as he was swept back into the tide of battle.

Rex opened fire once more with his twin pistols, reloading them without pausing in his own miniature onslaught for even a second. Muscle memory allowed him to pop out cartridges with a hard flick of the wrist, and then angle his blaster so he could slide the next one in by lining it up on his hip. One then the other. As soon as that was done, he followed his general into the fray.

Another bout of cannon fire shook the ground, taking out a whole squadron of droids on the left, and several more on the right. Rex landed a series of shots on several battle droids, and watched with grim satisfaction as fire burned holes in their metal hearts, spewing glistening oil from the hole as they imploded. If he really focused, he could see his men doing the same with their repeating rifles. At least one — Patchwork — had managed to repair their only flamethrower, and was carving a path of destruction down the eastern front, noxious smoke gushing out into the air. Another — Strale, telling by the eye decal on his helmet — had fashioned a makeshift grenade launcher out of an SBD chestplate, and was launching them wantonly into the enemy lines.

A world’s worth of effort, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Rex felt himself zoning out, his body moving for him. Briefly, he could imagine a bird’s eye view of the skirmish, reducing each of his men into white pinpricks versus taupe and gray, their battlefront into a warring division of red and blue. That’s all he was, one in many. Just a number.

And whatever that meant for him… he found it mattered less as the man beside him was obliterated by a spider droid round. Blood splattered on his helmet, and his visor cleaned it immediately. So what if he was just one man? He had a job to do and a Republic he was proud to serve. Men he was proud to protect, a general he was proud to follow.

All he needed to do was shoot, and shoot to kill. 

[echo-anon]

The Start… Again

Chapter 1

Since the collection is out, time to post the works!

↸ᒷᔑℸ ̣ ⍑ ᒲᒷᔑリᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ

~~~

Grian dives into the ravine, dread brewing in his gut. He committed to retracing his steps to make things simpler, but now he realizes it was just to prolong the inevitable. He isn’t ready to face Scar yet, not after everything he did. He starts killing fish, knowing that the time is slowly ticking down.

Grian shoves the fish into a furnace, trying to keep his expression neutral. He doesn’t need them to think he’s crazy for acting weirdly. Since apparently no one else remembers that they’ve done this before.

“Hello!” Etho and Joel say, almost in sync.

“Hello,” he replies, forcing a smile as he watches them slide down the bottom of the ravine.

“Oh, fish!” Etho says as Grian returns to killing more of them. “Excellent idea, Grian.”

“Have you found your soulmate yet?” Joel asks, looking down at him.

“Not yet,” he replies, tense. It’s technically true. He hasn’t seen Scar in this timeline yet. “Whoever I’m with is desperately trying to get me killed.” Which Grian kinda deserves after what he did to Scar last time. Almost as if his thoughts summoned him, Scar surfaces just in front of him, gasping for a breath.

“Are you sure it’s not Scar?” Joel asks, laughing a little.

“Scar, have you been taking big chunks of damage?” Grian knows this doesn’t go anywhere, but he can’t help but try.

Scar gives him a look for a moment, before shrugging. Joel hits him as a test, and Grian feels a faint pain in the same area. He takes a shaky breath as he watches Scar swim after his allay, zoning out of everything else.

He zones back in as Joel swims into his view, “here, Grian, I’ll test it for you.” This punch is a bit harder than the last, “did that hurt, Grian?” At Grian’s silence, Joel takes out his axe and swings it. Grian flinches and lets out a pained shout. Joel only laughs, “are you actually linked?”

Grian doesn’t respond, only staring as Scar still chases the allay. He doesn’t know how to deal with this. He has to tell Scar, of course he does, but he has no idea how to do it. Ideally it would be alone, so once they split off from Joel and Etho, he’d do it.

He’s snapped out of his daze from Joel shoving him, who gives him a brief questioning look before speaking, “the reason he took a lot of damage, by the way, is when I hit him with my axe to annoy the person he’s paired with.”

“I nearly died!” Grian exclaims, still very irritated at that. Although, it’s not like Joel was the only one casually playing with lives. At least he didn’t kill Scar, unlike Grian did with him.

“Yeah, he said he got two hearts,” Joel replies, unaware of Grian’s inner turmoil. His focus changes to where Scar is climbing the side of the ravine, “what’s he doing?”

Much to Grian’s surprise, Scar continues climbing the mountain, not even looking back. The dread worsens, this didn’t happen last time. “I’m going after him,” Grian says, immediately swimming to the other side of the ravine to try and catch up with Scar. He ignores anything Joel or Etho say. Scar’s already up the other side of the ravine when Grian reaches the other side. He can’t help but be impressed.

By the time he makes it back up the cliff, Scar was already trying to give the allay something. “Scar, can we talk?”

To his surprise, the other flinches. There’s a brief pause before he turns around, a bright smile on his face, “hello, Grian!”

It looks fake, which makes him tense, but he still repeats, “can we talk?”

Scar turns back around, “I’m in the middle of something.”

Grian takes a deep breath, “Scar, please.”

There’s a long pause, long enough for the dread to return full force, enough for him to consider why Scar’s acting differently. When Scar goes back to following the allay Grian speaks again, “I’m sorry.”

This causes him to freeze again, turning around to fully face Grian again, “what?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “for- for everything.” Scar stares at him in astonishment, so he continues, “I was a horrible soulmate to you. And… I want to make it up to you, I’ll do whatever I can to do so. Or-“ Grian swallow, “or you can tell me to screw off, that would be fine too. Just- just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

Scar stares at him for a long time, taking a good while to get over his shock. When he does, the edge in his voice has lessened a smidge, “are you really sorry?”

“Very, very, much so,” Grian says, earnest.

Scar glances away, thinking, “we should stick together for safety.” He pauses, “we’ll continue this later, I need to get my allay.”

“R-right,” Grian murmurs, taking it as the dismissal it is. He turns around and returns to the ravine’s edge. He doesn’t jump down, wanting to wait for Scar still. As he waits, his communicator buzzes. He takes it out curiously, but freezes as he reads the message. Somehow he forgot that they would be dying soon.

“What is it?”

He jumps a little, turning around to see Scar, his allay beside him. “Tango died,” he answers simply.

“Ah, right.” Scar’s quiet for a moment before continuing past him, heading towards the bridge. Grian follows him, just as quiet. They dive into the water together, swimming over to Joel and Etho when they resurface.

“Did you see?” Joel asks the moment he notices them.

“Yup,” Grian replies. He grins, “we’re not the first ones out!”

“Well, of course Etho and I aren’t,” Joel replies confidently, “you two however…”

Scar gasps, mock-offended, “I bet we’ll survive longer then you!” Grian shoots him a look, trying to silently tell him to be cautious. His soulmate ignores him.

Etho raises an eyebrow, “you know?”

“Of course I do,” the pointed tone leaves just as quickly as it comes. Scar grins, although Grian can see that it’s just a facade, “what should we do next?”

[stiffyck]

another vaguely tcd related thought i've had: what if vexes only get scars when they're young? Like if they get hurt when they're adults it will heal without a trace but when they're hurt in their youth they haven't quite developed that ability yet, so it scars badly.

None of the hermits (except cub) have this information about vexes so they think all of scar's scars have just been like, accumulated over the years, but then they find out somehow and come to the horrified realization that Scar is covered in scars and they're all somehow from when he was a child.

cue explanations of his shit childhood and also much comfort <33

WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!

I CAN MAKE IT EVEN MORE ANGSTY!!!!

What if! Vexes don't get scars at all.

Allays do. Young allays.

So you not only have the realization that Scar got hurt a lot when he was a kid- you also have the realization of the fact that Scar got corrupted.

He was an allay before hermitcraft

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

avec toi, je suis bien - v

I am super proud of this chapter, actually. I just love making characters spiral and then getting the comfort they deserve (aka, me projecting the kind of comfort i wish i could get ;-;-;). And yes! switch of POV, but just this once.

Enjoy!

Master Post

— —

Content warnings: Internalized arophobia

i don’t wanna be alone, i wanna find a home and i wanna share it with you

Scar wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping and panting for air. Fae swallows weakly, closing faer eyes as fae tries to find faer breath back. Wet, fae’s wet, sticking on faer skin, on Scar’s pathetic attempt of a nest, and on Cub, to faer terror. 

Fae yelps, backing away from faer friend, only now remembering to conceal faer magick. Cub stirs in its sleep, and fae knows faer eyes are blue, but fae cannot let the Vex know fae’s in heat. The minute fae noticed the familiar scent, fae has been concealing any magick that wants to carve it, to make it faers, that possessive side fae has needed to hide from faer swarm. 

Scar takes a deep breath, opening faer eyes, and gauges the situation. Faer heats last at least 10 sundowns (sometimes more since fae isn’t mated, but fae tries to not think about that), and with the sun rising up, this will be the fourth day. 

Fae doesn’t know how long fae can conceal faer heats from Cub, but fae is willing to die trying. Fae has heard of the rumors, of what happens when an Allay passes faer heat with a Vex. Vexes are not like Allays, they will abandon faer the second they manage to impregnate faer, exiling faer from faer swarm when they learn where the grub comes from. 

Allays mates are much more affectionate, ready to take care of their pregnant partner, to make the nest more comfortable, to check for any health conditions. At least, that’s what Scar tells faerself whenever fae has a bad heat, just like this one. Better fear the Vex than understand the pile of anxiety in faer stomach.

Scar sighs at the thought, eyes fluttering shut and subconsciously releasing a wave of faer heat scent, and hums quietly as the Hissers and Wall-Crawlers walk away from their hiding spot. Faer magick hugs faer, as if it’s a mate showering faer in physical affection, as if it’s Cub’s magick intertwining with faers, like they did in that geode. 

Those fuzzy thoughts get immediately replaced by the harsh staring of faer swarm, by the shiver of the cold corner fae hugged faerself in as the others mated and helped each other in their heats, by the whispers when fae passed by a part of the swarm. Scar buries faer head between faer knees, blinking away the stupid tears and reaching for a kinder magick, any magick will do the trick. 

Cub grunts and Scar swiftly hides faer magick, snapping faer head up and shifting faer body into a more relaxed position. Fae knows it will notice the hidden magick, but so far, it hasn’t said anything. Fae hopes they are just ignoring the subject, just like they’re currently ignoring that night when Cub barged into their hiding spot as if it saw horrors more terrible than their burning mansion. 

“Good morning,” fae smiles sheepishly.

Cub yawns, letting out a little squeak, and Scar’s whole body buzzes. Squeak like a little grub when fae was lucky to hold one, squeak like a happy mate, squeak like safe and warm. Fae growls underneath faer breath, willing faer body under control. 

“‘Morning,” Cub replies, and only then does fae realize the Vex’s looking at faer, brows furrowed. Scar keeps faer smile relax, and stands up straighter while trying to keep a nonchalant vibe. 

Fae hums a little melody. “Have anything planned today?”

Cub’s eyes are glazed, body swinging side to side to Scar’s melody. It always amuses faer whenever it engages in typical Allay behavior. Fae finds it quite endearing.

Fae accidentally releases faer magick unto Cub, quietly pleading it to mix their magick, desperately reaching for a mate displaying courting rituals. Scar catches it before it can touch faer friend’s skin, holding it deep inside faer. Vexes leave Allays the minute they get impregnated, fae simply cannot risk the chance of losing Cub.

Since fae stopped humming, Cub’s looking at faer now. Fae swallows around the ball of anxiety that formed in faer throat. 

“I was thinking of rearranging this,” Cub gestures to their hiding spot.

Fae looks around the room and wonders what Cub is going to rearrange. It looks perfect in Scar’s honest and correct opinion. Faer gaze lands on their nest—no, not nest, resting place (can’t call it a nest when they’re not mated) and faer magick is dancing around faer at the sight of it. It’s quite messy and fae wants to gather all the necessary materials to make it better. 

Fae looks back at the Vex, its magick swirling around it as it looks at the resting place, a dissatisfied aura around it. 

“I can take care of the nest!” Scar says, trying to look excited. Fae just wants to get far away from Cub as much as fae can, do not touch it, it doesn’t belong to you.

Fae doesn’t realize faer slip-up until Cub’s wings flutter, attracting faer eyes to its face, and sees it gape at faer. 

“Nest?”

Scar can feel faer magick buzzing around faer, feel the change of smell, feel the burning desire to make Cub faers . 

“Did I say nest?” Scar asks, humming in thought. “I don’t think I said nest, pretty sure I said rest—you know, any additional task you want me to do to help you.”

Fae smiles at Cub, showing faer teeth, hoping it buys faer lie. Of course, Cub sees right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?”

Scar doesn’t know how to answer that. Fae wants to get away from Cub, to control the magick that wants to intertwine itself with the Vex’s, fae can’t hold it back much longer. 

Fae has never been more terrified of faer heat.

“I’m not,” says fae, puffing faer chest and letting go some of faer magick to show faer natural eye color. 

That was, apparently, a mistake as Cub shivers and hides its face in its knees. 

“What is wrong with your magick?” it asks, and fae barely hears it. 

At the question, Scar hides faer magick swiftly and frowns.

“What do you mean?”

Cub peeks at faer before burying its head further. “It wants me, and it’s freaking me out.”

Scar can only gape at it. Fae thought fae had faer magick under control. This is only the fourth day. 

“I’m so sorry,” fae approaches Cub but at its flinch, stays where faer was, “I swear I didn’t mean it—”

Cub looks at faer. “Is that what you were hiding from me?”

Scar’s mind is reeling. “I didn’t mean to try to make you mine, I’m concealing it the best as I can—”

“Scar, what are you—”

“It’s only the fourth day, it’s almost over, I promise—”

“Scar! ”

Scar clicks faer mouth shut at the yell. Cub’s magick whirlwinds around it as it buries its head in its claws, and fae notices its magick is reaching out to faers, just like faers was reaching out to it. And fae understands why it’s breaking down over the sensation.

It’s not pleasant, it prods your coat like a sharp claw poking your skin, it wraps around you, never letting go, it somersaults in your eyes, a dizzying effect throws off your balance; and Scar has heard so many good things about intertwining your magick with your mate, but this can’t be it. 

This can’t be the warmth that takes over your body, can’t be the missing piece of your incomplete puzzle, can’t be what fae keeps hearing faer swarm says to grubs about the feeling of two mates mixing their magick together. 

This has to be a mistake.

Scar cowers in faer corner, lowering faer head, and tries to find faer magick in this mess. Fae can’t and it freaks faer out, Cub’s magick still prodding faer, throwing faer back when the Summoners and magickmongers tried to excavate faer magick. 

Why bother experimenting on a healthy Allay when you can do it on one who can’t fly away?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” Scar sobs and desperately wants to be close to Cub, but Vexes abandon Allays in heat. 

Fae doesn’t want to lose it. 

“Hey,” fae hears Cub whisper in faer sobs, “we’ll figure it out.”

Something cold cradles Scar’s cheek, forcing faer to raise faer head when fae stopped sobbing faer heart out. Faer eyes land on Cub’s bright blue eyes, filled with magick. Fae has never seen its eyes shine when it’s using magick and can only gape in awed.

Its magick no longer pricks faer coat, instead guides faer magick back to faer, and fae clings onto it. 

“I’m so sorry,” fae mumbles, turning faer gaze away.

Cub’s sigh turns into a light chuckle. “I should’ve warned you.”

“I shouldn’t have hidden it from you.”

Cub frowns. “Why did you hide it?”

Scar wants to rest faer head against its chest, but decides to lean on its claws.

“Vexes abandon Allays in heat,” fae recites, barely audible to faer ears. 

A spike of magick in the air but before fae can identify it, it washes away as quickly as it appeared. 

“That’s dumb,” Cub’s voice is strained and fae looks at it. 

Its jaw is clicked shut, frowning, and it lets out a growl. Faer eyes widen. Is Cub angry?

The Vex looks around their hiding spot, gaze lingering on their nest—for goodness’ sake, their resting area—until bright blue eyes meet faers. 

“Look,” it takes a deep breath, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, but that was clearly wishful thinking on my part.”

Its hands grab faer arms, giving them a slight squeeze, and fae can’t hold it in. Fae rests faer head on Cub’s chest and lets faer magick running wild in the room, barely contained by its magick. 

Cub purrs, the vibrations in its chest traveling from faer head to faer toes and fae purrs back, wishing to fiddle with a crystal now more than ever. 

“That means you’ll leave me, right?” Scar asks because fae has to , has to make sure fae is understanding Cub correctly, even if faer magick is buzzing around them, to hold Cub close to faer.

The purrs stop abruptly and it grabs faer shoulder, leaning faer away from its chest. 

“Never. You have to understand one thing, Scar, it’s that I’ll never leave you, not now nor ever.” Cub gulps, eyes shifting to the side. “I may not want to mate with you, but you mean a lot to me, okay?”

Scar’s eyes are wide, mouth open and magick swirling around faer. It dizzies faer and fae isn’t sure why fae wants to cry as a wave of faer heat scent embraces them. 

Fae just wants to pass faer heat with Cub, just wants someone beside faer as faer magick immobilizes the Allay at the peak of it, just wants Cub to hug faer. Its words rotate in faer mind, trying to make sense of them while faer magick reaches for faer friend. 

Cub slightly moves away, dodging the magick and Scar whines in the back of faer throat, claw grasping onto its arm and trilling to keep it close to faer. 

“Don’t go,” Scar pleads, sending faer magick to the Vex’s magick, to just touch, no intertwining, just as a sign of support. 

Cub doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting Scar trill in their hiding spot until it copies the trill, takes faer hands with its, placing them on its chest, and moves side to side, not quite in rhythm with their trill. Scar quietly begs the Vex’s magick to touch faers, for just a moment of camaraderie, and when its magick touches faers, Scar hums a melody instead and purrs, shifting their hands to faer chest and scenting them. 

The crystals hum in sync with the Allay’s tune, and Scar doesn’t recognize what exactly is going on. Fae has never seen this during mating season, never seen the amethyst buzzing and lighting up, never seen magick just touching with no intertwining involved. 

Fae decides this is much better than any mating ritual.

“I don’t want to mate either,” Scar whispers in the crystals’ aria. Fae looks up at faer friend. “Can we stay like this for a moment?”

Cub chuckles lightly, almost mischievous in nature. “Yeah, I don’t mind this. It’s quite calming, actually.”

Scar agrees.

<- Previous_Master Post_Next ->

[convexicalcrow]

Can I ask? I’ve read a lot of your fics by now, and the way you write the vex is interesting.

What are some of your personal headcanons of these guys? They seem equal parts pleasure givers and evil spirits.

Scar seems to be the default leader (which I don’t see often as usually people make it Cub).

Also how does someone get chosen by the vex in your AU’s?

Thanks!

These are all great questions, anon! Thank you for reading and enjoying my fics enough to ask about my lore. I adore talking about my lore and I'm going to enjoy answering these questions for sure. :D

This is gonna be a long post, so Imma split it up into sections to make it easier to digest as I ramble on about my lore. <3

Vex Headcanons and Lore

So, I tend to see the Vex as very hedonistic creatures. They're pleasure-seekers and sometimes aggressively so. It's just, murder is also one of those things they find pleasurable. So they are evil spirits! But they are also hedonists. They will happily indulge in cake and diamonds while also enjoying some light murder. They primarily attack with their swords, but also by biting. Not all Vex eat people, but some do, like Scar.

I don't see the Vex as like, servitors or familiars created and controlled by Evokers. The Vex, to me, are a collective hivemind who look out for themselves and have their own goals and agency.

Mostly, they are selfish creatures who really only look out for the Vex, and this is broadly true. Even when they are working towards finding a cure for skulk infections in Fog, it's primarily motivated by clearing the skulk from Cub, a fellow Vex, but they also do not like the skulk and that is like the one thing they will selflessly work towards fighting against.

I do have separate lore surrounding Evokers taking Allays down to ancient cities to convert them into Vexes with skulk, but that's not really part of my broader Vex lore.

The Vex do need the Evokers though, and they work together on the same goals. The Evokers gain assistance in protecting mansions and fighting in raids, and the Vex gain a gateway to the overworld, albeit temporarily if they are not named or possessing a player. It's a symbiotic relationship where the Evokers serve the Vex and enable their plans to come into fruition.

The Vex exist in a fourth dimension when they are not in the overworld. That's where they're summoned from. I call this Vexspace, as it's where the Vex reside. It's separate from the overworld, nether, and the End, but can access all of those dimensions, so the Vex can be summoned anywhere. It's accessible to the Vex, but not to the Evokers. It is also constant. Scar and Cub are always connected to it, unless they are either forcibly shut out (as in Fog my skulk Cub saga), or if they choose to do so. Not being connected to the hivemind means the Vex no longer have access to their thoughts, but on the other hand, Vexspace is no longer accessible, so using it for fast travel is not possible.

Fast travel is a way to use Vexspace to travel between mansions and pillager towers across the overworld almost instantly, speeding up extremely long travel that would otherwise take hours even through the nether. (This ignores that the game only spawns mansions up to a certain distance out; they can spawn anywhere for me.)

Mansions are safe havens for the Vex. Evokers act as priests and healers, and as particularly strong centres of power for Vex magic. This is why they are protected. The Vex use the mansions as overworld bases, seeing the world through the eyes of their Evokers. From here, they can carry out plans for controlling territory and enacting other plans they have.

Also! The blood thing! For me, the Vex enjoy feeding on blood. They're not vampires, and they definitely don't need it to live, but it's a pleasureable act for them, and they seek out those with very tasty sweet blood. Which is why they feed on Cub a lot because they love the taste of his blood. It's a way of bonding as much as sustaining the Vex and giving an offering to them. Giving your body up to them to feed off is a sacrifice and a willing one that Cub often makes because he's masochistic enough to enjoy it. It's part of his worship of the Vex.

And that worship aspect that Cub and Scar brought in with the Cathedral is important. There is a hierarchy. It's strict but it's not strict at the same time. The Vex are creatures worthy of worship, and the things being offered include blood that was laid on the offering tables. This distinguishes Scar and Cub as players and Vexes as being on a different level to those in the hivemind as players turned into Vexes are like Vexes that have been named, and can therefore persist in the overworld. Because Vexes normally don't have names because they have no need for them.

Scar as Leader

This is... Okay. See, I think this is more an extension of their personalities and of Scar having a more natural leadership energy than Cub does. It's also related to their roles as Vex and how they work best together. They complement each other very well. But Scar isn't The Leader by default either. They are both in service to the Vex and obey them as their masters. I see them as equal partners, just with different roles and abilities. Scar is better as a leader/front, and Cub is better behind the scenes with redstone stuff, but this doesn't make one The Leader over the other. They're both capable of driving things along on their own, and they both contribute ideas to their future plans.

For the more kinky side of their dynamic, I do tend to write Scar more Dommy than not, which may also tie into this, but Cub is just as capable of that, it's just not usually his preference. When Cub does Dom, he's usually much more gentle than Scar, who's more sadistic than him, because they want different things out of a Dom when they are subbing.

For me, Scar is the salesman. The leader. The one who can do the talking and wield the power of the ConVex and ConCorp in ways that Cub isn't as good at. Scar is motivated by power, and seeks out power, and so that's what he does with the assistance of the Vex. As a Vex, he is tuned in with the Vex magic currents that flow between the three realms and Vexspace. He can make those connections and bring power and magic between them. And yet, he is still weak to the pleasure of Vex magic, much more than Cub is.

As for Cub, he's the brains for sure. He's good at strategy, tech, seeing where opportunties are to make even more wealth, and does more of the behind the scenes work. He can absolutely be a leader, but he'll make Scar front things and work from his plans. As a Vex, Cub is motivated by pleasure, and acts as a vessel. If the Vex are going to possess one of them, it's going to be Cub. He's basically given his body over to the Vex to do with as they wish, and he's in a much more subservient position with the Vex than Scar is. At the same time, Cub is still motivated by power and wealth, but these are more public-facing motivations and drive a lot of what he does. But there's more going on internally than that suggests.

You can't have one without the other. On his own, Cub would be lost, and there wouldn't be as great a drive without Scar. He would still do well, but he needs that bigger picture energy that Scar brings to really shine. And Scar needs Cub to do the infrastructure and tech stuff that he just can't do. Scar could definitely have build the aethetics of the ConCorp industrial park, but the farms would have been beyond his skill level, especially the super-smelter. it's only together that they are able to shine and profit handsomely from their efforts. They make an excellent team and you can tell they are aware of this as well.

How Do The Vex Choose People?

There are no real hard and fast rules on this for me, but I do tend to work from those who canonically are/were friendly to the ConVex/ConCorp or aligned with them, helped them out in some way, or just feel like they should be Vex.

Why did Cub get chosen? They could sense his use and his skills, and his prankster urges. He's also a big grinder, so they know he'll put in the work if they give it to him. Plus, that late stage capitalism sense, of profitting at any cost. This was less important in s5 bc of the lack of Stuff being sold, but it definitely came into play in s6 for sure.

Scar, of course, has similar vibes and values as a player, and being close to Cub, they can be sure he's going to work well with him. And he has those other motivations and he can play a slightly different role to Cub and make them both successful.

So it's finding the right sort of player who's got the right sort of values. Don't pick a couple of guys to start a war if they aren't immoral enough to not only instigate war, but also get the two teams to pay them for the privilege of fighting it.

There are good reasons as to why the fics I have of them becoming Vexes are quite different, even if there are similar scenarios/motifs. Cub, being motivated more by pleasure and subservience, is more open to being seduced by the pleasures of Vex magic than Scar would be. For Scar, he craves power and wealth, and self-preservation. Scar dying from that fall to earn his Vex head is something that was necessary to get Scar to agree, because they can simply let him die if he doesn't join. But they also offer the things he wants the most, and pranking Hermits and hanging out with Cub are two of those things.

Then we get to the others! False, Joe, and Bdubs! These are the other three that I've written as Vexes and I'll talk a little about why them in particular, and why they might have been chosen.

False is probably the most obvious of the three. She helped them out in s5 with the prank on X's base, and was named as an honourary Vex and given a Vex head. So making her a proper Vex isn't that much of a stretch. The Vex like her and trust her, and why would you not want the strongest pvper on the server on your side when you are a hivemind who loves a good murder?

But in her conversion fic, she has a totally different process. She isn't just seduced into joining, because that's not really her style, but also that's not what they want from her. She fights them, because power and a vessel aren't going to do anything without a Will to give that power intent and direction, and that's what False brings, on top of the corruption and greed she carries with her. Plus the whole evil clone thing ofc.

For Joe, he's a friend, and in Fog, he was kind to those in the mansion. He fed them and befriended some Vexes, and that kindness was rewarded with becoming a Vex, so he could do the fast travel he needed to help them with the skulk cure. I am undecided if Vex Joe is something I'd write more of outside of that specific AU, but we'll see. Stranger things have happened.

Bdubs is a special one, and it's based on only one thing, and that's him falling into s6 with an elytra named 'Vex Wings'. Neither Scar nor Cub have ever called their elytra that, so it's an odd choice for sure. bc why carried named elytra anyway for an entrance like that and do absolutely nothing with that named elytra? For me, it's more relevant in s7 with Bdubs approaching Scar to convince him to run for Mayor, because Cub was busy doing other Pharaoh things and a Vex never works alone. Cub just isn't motivated by power enough to run for Mayor himself, let alone convince Scar to run for Mayor, but Bdubs could do it for sure. And that's why he was chosen.

Sure, Cub does eventually work for him as his enforcer, but Scar clearly wanted him as much because he was a Vex than anything else. So you have three Vex in the Town Hall wielding power over the server in a different capacity than with ConCorp. Again, it's that Vex drive to seek power over the server, and Scar is a natural leader for that specific thing. Cub couldn't have done that. And Scar is great at playing villains and should have been more villainous as the Mayor and I am forever salty that he wasn't, even if I do understand why he didn't push it too far.

I have, like, a ton more things I could say about all of this but my hands are getting sore again :( so please do send asks if there's anything else you'd like me to ramble about! <3

[peckforlovingheck]

Circles | A TrafficLife AU

Chapter 1

The sun would blaze down on the three. Cleo calmly sat by the water as her sons played. The larger of the two, Scar, was far off chasing the allays. Bdubs walked up to his mother.

“Mom.. can you tell me a story?” He asked. “Don’t you think you’re a bit too old for stories? Go run along with your brother.” Cleo said, smiling. He frowned.

��Alright. I’ll tell you a story…” She sighed.

A man who was immortal. Not in a pleasant deity way. He was part of an awful game by the beings called the Watchers. With colored wings much like a parrots, he was cast down to this earth. To add to his suffering, the very watchers cast down other innocent souls to be part of their game. Instead of their mortal lives, only one shot, they’d get three. Symbolized by a green, yellow, and red.

You’d get more aggressive and beastly as your lives went down. Causing actions you wouldn’t originally do. The reds could kill all, they were the most far gone.

The man who bore wings of a bird would unknowingly be the catalyst of this game. It was all connected to him. He had befriended a man once. A soul that was once pure.

“oh.. that man is actually your brother’s namesake, did you know that?” Cleo said to Bdubs. He shook his head, taken out of the emersion. “Why this story?” He asked. “Because it’s practically how this place came to be. Three eras and we are the fourth.” Cleo explained. “It’s so vague to the point of being considered a myth, but I still think it makes a good story with decent morals.”

“Like What?” Bdubs asks. “Well, beware of everyone, for example. Anyone could betray. Sharing can be your rise or fall—“ “Mom, why so morbid?” Bdubs complained. “Hey, you asked. Now, come on. Go get your brother. It’s time for dinner.” She said, walking inside.

Bdubs thought about it for the rest of the night.

[ask-alsius-vafer]

Felix’s reassurance was comforting, though knowing it wasn’t a purposeful attack was only a momentary balm. His jaw ticked with ire freshly riled by the thought of Felix being chastised and sent off to manage his own way to the Hospital Wing. Alone. The Tentacula Vorax may be less venomous than its more well-known counterpart, but the bite was still dangerous and treatment extremely time sensitive. He could not believe Professor Garlick would treat it so casually.

Actually, he could believe it — which was worse by far. Alsius was not naive about the world’s hazards and the need to learn to safely navigate them, but as understanding as Professor Garlick typically was in that journey, he’d healed enough students sent from the greenhouses to reasonably assume that her concern for the wellbeing of her plants often outweighed that for her students.

He struggled to school his expression again, to mask the unsettling, savage protectiveness with something calmer and warmer in response to Felix’s self-deprecating humour. Alsius’s emotions may be a mess, but that was not Felix’s fault either. It was an unfortunate accident, and the last thing he wanted was for his deteriorated mood, mostly in response to his own shortcomings in the moment, to somehow make Felix feel like healing him was a burden.

Healing Felix was never a burden to him no matter how grave the injury.

“Don’t apologise. This is not your fault.” Alsius rested a palm against the centre of Felix’s chest and softly tapped where a small silver whistle lay under his robes. “Next time, call for me. I will find you.” He finally gave Felix’s hand a gentle squeeze in return before he eased it and the blood-soaked cloth away, the view prompting a sharp intake of breath and a rather colourful curse. 

It was more than a mere nip. The tear was ragged. Alsius silently hoped the detached ear remained in one piece and the blasted plant hadn’t eaten it. Regrowing an ear would be much more difficult and time consuming than reattaching one. Either way, healing would take considerable finesse to avoid significant scarring, though there was no guarantee Felix would avoid it completely. Still, better bitten off than cursed off. At least Felix would avoid living out the remainder of his life in asymmetry. Alsius frowned, shifting closer to carefully check the wound for the distinctive purplish radiating tendrils that would indicate blood poisoning. None — a relief, though he would feel better if Felix took some anti-venom.

Not wanting to leave Felix’s side, he flouted the accio ban and summoned the necessary potions. Across the room, the cupboard doors creaked open once again and the privacy curtain fluttered as the phials cut through the air and into his hands. Alsius passed them to Felix in succession. 

“Pain relief, blood replenishing, calming draught, and anti-venom — just in case,” he added to preemptively allay any concern. “Take these first, then we will talk about reattachment.”

The path to the Hospital Wing seemed to stretch endlessly before him. The throbbing ache on the side of his head matched the pulse of each beat of his heart. Every step on the stone floors sent a jolt of pain, a hurtful reminder of the morning's misadventure in Herbology. His hand pressed against the spot where his ear should have been, the phantom pain still gnawing at him. The sharp bite of the Tentacula Vorax' teeth still echoed in his mind, the memory almost as painful as the wound it left behind.

It was a foolish mistake, Felix chastised himself. He should have been more careful, more gentle. Perhaps a kinder touch when pruning the plant might have spared him this torment. Professor Garlick had certainly thought so, lecturing him quite thoroughly before handing him two pieces of cloth - one to stem the bleeding, the other to transport the unfortunate remains of his ear.

The Ravenclaw shook his head, a motion he instantly regretted as dizziness washed over him. There was no time for a bad conscience, no room for self-recrimination. He needed to reach the Hospital Wing. He needed Als.

Als would know what to do. He always did.

Had he been feeling less queasy, he might have opted for the Floo Powder system. But the thought of spinning through the network of fireplaces only made his stomach churn further. So it had to be the long way - the very, very long way, with its many, many stairs.

A sigh escaped Felix as he leaned against the cool stone wall, allowing himself to take a small break. A few passing students glanced his way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. With a forced smile, the Swede assured them that everything was fine. Or at least, it would be once he got to Alsius. He just hoped his friend wouldn’t be too annoyed with his clumsiness, but deep down, he knew he was in the best hands.

"Take a deep breath. In and out. You're almost there," he muttered to himself, trying to steady his breathing, the words a small comfort as he pushed off the wall. The stairs seemed never-ending, each one a cruel reminder of how much further he had to go.

"Just a little bit more..." The words were barely a whisper as he forced himself to keep moving. The trek was taking its toll, beads of sweat dotted Felix' forehead, and the sick feeling in his stomach grew worse with each step. The wound throbbed in time with his heartbeat, the cloth already soaked through with blood.

“Finally,” Felix breathed, both exhausted and relieved as the door to the Hospital Wing came into view. He paused at the door, peeking inside cautiously, his heart lifting slightly at the sight of the young healer, who was quietly tending to his duties. A weak smile tugged at Felix’s lips, a small flicker of relief and gratitude amidst the pain. Just seeing his friend was enough to make him feel safer.

Clearing his throat softly, Felix hesitated. He didn’t want to disturb Alsius if he was in the middle of something important, and the last thing he wanted was to wake any of the other patients. But the urgency of his situation couldn't be ignored.

“Als, um,” he began, his voice a little shaky, “how good are you at reattaching body parts?”

Two freshly corked phials in hand, Alsius crouched before the medicinal cupboard by the infirmary entrance. The beds were unusually vacant today, prompting the rest of the Hospital wing staff to indulge in an impromptu excursion around the grounds for some exercise. Since Professor Sharp had delivered fresh batches of healing potions earlier that afternoon, Alsius volunteered to stay and he took advantage of the rare quiet and solitude to steadily restock the ever-dwindling stores.

He ducked his head and tucked the last phials in with the others, the faint tinkling of glass against glass floating in the stillness as he ensured all labels were neatly aligned for easy readability in an emergency. After an unfortunate incident involving a nurse and a swarm of magimedical-grade leeches (not to mention the Coffee Bean Barrage), the use of Accio was indefinitely banned in the infirmary and the last thing any reasonable healer wished to do in time-sensitive situations was frantically rummage through wilfully neglected shelves. It was a personal pet hate of his, so he made a point of leaving the cupboard the way he always wished to find it.

Clean, tidy, and methodically organised.

The creak of the Hospital Wing door opening echoed that of the cupboard door closing. He hadn’t the chance to look up before he heard Felix’s voice, and the weak, nervous warble immediately drew his attention and concern.

“…reattaching body parts…”

Alsius turned and caught sight of Felix slumped against the doorway, his focus immediately pulled to his friend’s rapid breathing and sickly pallor. Despite the attempt to inject a certain nonchalance into his question, exhaustion etched Felix’s sweaty brow, his expression drawn painfully taut as he cradled a blood-soaked cloth against his head.

A sudden, leadened pit in Alsius’s stomach tipped the scales for haste. Fearing Felix would collapse to the floor, he rushed to the entrance and caught Felix’s weight against his side. He quickly ushered him to the nearest bed, and if the tall blond baulked at being unceremoniously laid out in such fumbling earnest, Alsius couldn’t hear it over the torrential roar of his racing thoughts.

“Sorry,” he whispered, somewhat amazed he had the presence of mind to apologise for such a brutish bedside manner. “With the bleeding, it’s better to lie down.”

Despite his relative youth, Alsius was generally cool and collected and not prone to dramatic mood swings, but when his gaze tracked the crimson rivulets steadily slipping down Felix’s wrist, something in him critically failed. He was no stranger to gruesome illness and injury, but Alsius was woefully unprepared for the visceral impact of seeing someone so dear to him in such a state.

As he stood and hovered over Felix, his chest tightened, heartbeat keeping time with the breakneck pace of all the grim possibilities reeling through his mind. Felix managed all the way here, he frantically reminded himself. It can’t be that serious. It was a paltry reassurance. He pinched his eyes shut against the unsettling swells in his emotions.

Set them aside. Heal. Reconcile the rest later. That was what his parents taught him in his early youth. That’s what Hogwarts more or less taught him in the infirmary. Yet his mind – his heart, still screamed: it’s Felix.

He turned and snapped the privacy curtains closed. Unnecessary considering they were alone, but the guise afforded him the barest moment to try to regain some semblance of composure.

The steadying breath he drew was audibly shaky.

After what felt like an age mustering his courage, Alsius returned to Felix’s side, lowering to sit at the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort you out,” he murmured softly, though he was unsure if the reassurance for Felix’s benefit or his own.

He leaned forward to remove Felix’s hand and assess the damage, however just as his shaky fingertips brushed the back of Felix’s – he hesitated. He blinked and reached out again, only for his fingers to once again twitch away and curl defiantly into his palm.

There was more than a hint of frustration in Alsius’s sigh when he grudgingly compromised with himself. He rested his palm against the back of Felix’s hand as his gaze slowly surveyed the familiar topography of his friend’s face for all traces of primary and secondary injury. He murmured another apology when he lightly pressed his thumb into the side of Felix’s chin and carefully tilted his head to the side. Their hands remained protectively pressed over the wound, but Alsius still thoroughly searched the visible area for residual scorch damage from curses.

Any sort of evidence to restore the cool rationale upon which he so heavily relied.

A useless pursuit, like trying to capture vapour in his hands. The harder he focussed on ticking off a diagnostic checklist, the more each step dispersed into nothingness.

Alsius should just properly inspect the injury.

Alsius should just ask what happened.

It was the standard course of action no matter who found themselves in his care, but his faculties failed him. He shook his head against the internal contradictions: the spine-tingling fear and uncertainty, gut-wrenching anxiety, and the most alarming – the raw, hot sparks of anger that threatened his veins like flame at a fuse. At some point between his runaway thoughts and terrible excuse for a medical assessment, Alsius truly understood what Sebastian described feeling in the catacombs: cold, uncompromising protectiveness that overrode everything else. The ruthless sense of purpose that defied all rational thought was downright unnerving, and for someone as even-tempered as Alsius, its effect was so unsettling that he robbed him of his ability to function normally.

Nothing about it made sense, and it was maddening, but through the haze of it all there was one thing Alsius knew with unwavering certainty.

Felix would be fine because he would do absolutely everything in his power to ensure it.

Still, one question wrapped around his heart like a vice. It was the very first that crossed his mind in the emotional turmoil and the constant catalyst to whatever breakdown he actively tried to stave off.

It was an unrelenting, suffocating pressure that refused to be ignored. There was always the chance that it had been just an accident. Felix was unfortunately clumsy at times, but if this was maliciously inflicted on him…

Alsius didn’t need to know where or why, or what or how. He needed to know who.

And he would deal with that after.

Finally finding some sense of clarity once again, Alsius slowly exhaled into the heavy, ponderous silence as he gently tilted Felix’s face back to centre. When he finally spoke, the calm and even softness of his voice directly contradicted the steely intensity behind his eyes.

“Did someone do this to you?”

[tekbox]

He thought it was a joke.

Some sick twisted sadistic pessimistic joke that he played on himself. He crafted these worlds from ash and nothing and yet again made the fatal (only time would tell) mistake of putting chance in the hands of the universe- the same universe who’s given him nothing but pain, regret, sorrow and tire.

Once he saw scar take damage he felt his heart stab itself a million times, aching and weighing not only from the pain he was in. It from how he _knew_ who scar was to him now. He heard, saw, and reluctantly hurt at scars carelessness towards this nonspecific “soulmate “ opting instead for mobs who— in the end would mean nothing to the both of them.

It hurt his heart screeching out for scar as he chased after that allay as if it were a balloon slipping out of his hands.

Scar was slipping out of his hands.

And now he was stuck with him until they got each other killed again.

He missed the mountain.