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whisperwritingstuff · 8 hours ago

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got some shiny fresh hfs e/l here, your twice weekly hero/villain enemies/lovers convexian story as co-written by @varanere00 and myself today! a bird reminds us all! that he is, in fact, present and accounted for!

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Darkness.

Grian grumbles himself awake to the tune of his discontent stomach. Doesn't help that the smell of food has followed him out of his dream-

Blinking and flicking on a small flashlight from one of his utility pockets, Grian discovers the causality there to be reversed. On the nightstand sits a wrapped sub, the sight of which makes his stomach growl in protest of it not being inside him yet.

Fumbling motions still thick with sleep, Grian snatches up the sandwich. His first bite greets him with the faintest hint of spice, a soothingly correct order despite the odd amounts of crunch.

He's inhaled half of it before he even thinks to look around, find out where he is. He's...

He recognizes this room. The room in Vex's lair where he stayed while Scar was injured. Crunching into the second half of the sandwich, Grian ponders this. He doesn't recall getting up and walking here. So how did he get from the couch he fell asleep on to the bed he's currently in?

In a sudden fit of panic, Grian scrabbles at his neck. It's still bare. Just to fully test his freedom, he pictures tearing Vex into itty bitty pieces, and then flying away with Scar. No rush of sticky sweet bliss stops him.

Grian is not disappointed about this.

What is sticky-sweet is the bottle of soda left next to his sandwich. Still sealed, at least before he cracks into it. Fizzy and bright to wash down the meal.

Scar must have carried him here, despite needing to stay off his foot. The itch to go check on Scar builds, smoothly taking the place of Grian's placated hunger.

Swinging his legs out of bed, Grian sets out to go look for his idiot.

The door opens silently for him, the hall lights dimming up to a low light. Vex's lair takes on an eerie cast like this, low-lit and empty. Thankfully, Scar's room is right next to his.

...empty, the bed untouched. Cold. Where is Scar?

Things in the room have changed, since last Grian was in here. Scar has been through, simply not slept there.

One of Scar's shirts finds its way into Grian's arms, somehow. Mysteriously. Not like it helps Grian think to wrap his arms around it and press his face to the faint scent.

So lay out the options. Scar could be dead. Which Grian discards. Well, next step up. Injured. If so, he might be in the medical lab. Another step up. Scar might have fallen asleep on the couch himself, and simply not been moved. Next-

Hm. No. No it's probably one of those two and there aren't any other real options Grian needs to think or care about.

Trotting right back out of Scar's room, Grian decides to check the couch first. He knows where that is.

A cold gust of air flows over Grian with the chill of an icy hug when the livingroom door glides open soundlessly. Every feather on his body puffs up, defensively. Apprehensively.

Aside from the faint rush of traffic wafting in through the broken down balcony door and the hum of the refrigerator over in the kitchen, the living room too is abandoned. No light turns on. The cookies still on the table, the nest Scar built for him open but otherwise undisturbed on the couch. An empty glass and a half full plastic cup sit on the couch table. Lights from outside trace pale yellow shapes on the wall that shift and jump. Bathing everything in a dusky twilight that steals shapes and hides demons.

The chill creeping up Grian's spine certainly isn't just from the cold.

His claws trace over the arm of the couch, making the shape of it real. A solid object that had held Grian and Grian’s- Scar. Tangible. But it holds no interest now.

Coming up empty here, Grian’s left with unknowns, a whole dark den of evil to search. And the inability to be dissuaded from his task.

Grian allows his intuition to move his feet, carrying him away from the cold, but deeper into Vex’s web.

Vex’s lair is never quiet like this. Always abuzz with Scar’s laughter or snores, always a movie or a meal or some chatter. Now, Grian wades through silence, down labyrinthine empty corridors

Some doors refuse to open for him. Others reveal more abandoned rooms, his small flashlight dancing over immaculate furnishings where the sparse hall lights don't reach. Arcane machines stand as shadowy monoliths in the dark, their nefarious purposes unknown.

Scar's not in the med lab, found after poking through numerous doors. It's bathed in deep shadows, not having windows. Scar's not behind any of the doors Grian has poked through.

There's one door Grian hasn't dared go near. There's no way Scar would be there. He can't. He just can't. Pausing across the hall from Vex's door, Grian weighs his options. Go in, waking and upsetting Vex. Getting answers about Scar's whereabouts. Or give up, go back to the bed he woke up in and lay awake, staring at the ceiling, worrying about Scar.

Dithering in the hallway won't do anyone any good. And neither will missing the rest of his night of sleep.

So Grian smooths back his feathers as best he can, lets his eyelids droop, and shakes out his posture. Surely a quiet, sleepy entrance has the least chance of disturbing or upsetting Vex. Grian can just- Blame it on what Scar was doing, messing with his head earlier. Do a little sucking up if he really has to. Just so he can know if Scar is alright.

Little shuffling steps bring Grian through that final door, before he can doubt his decision.

This door too opens soundlessly. Once it's open though, Grian hears a very familiar sound. The sound of Scar's soft sleepy snores.

Relief slams through Grian hard, any tension vanishing from his muscles so quickly he wobbles on his feet and nearly falls over. Scar is safe.

Before even realizing what he's doing, Grian finds himself at the bedside, reaching out to touch Scar, check that he's real, maybe just, add a few pillows- Grian's breathing easily slows to match Scar's sleepy pace. Safe. Safe and good. All the adrenaline of braving this den of evil drains out of Grian, leaving him blinking in slow confusion as a warm hand closes around his wrist.

He's pulled forward, right into Scar's arms with a sleepy mumble of "Eee-an."

It's toasty warm under the blankets. Much warmer than Grian expected, given how cold a certain person in this bed tends to be. Between the heat, the full belly, and the cozy safety of flock, Grian can feel himself getting real drowsy again.

There's no yelling, no feeling of threat. Grian found what he was looking for. His flock, safe and cozy and calling for him to stay with close-tucked arms.

Surely, he can do that. Give this comfort. He'll just rest his eyes a moment, stay awake, and leave before morning. Easy.

Warm is the first thing that seeps into Grian's consciousness. He's incredibly warm. There's something moving beneath him, something that feels of flock, and a bundle of warmth in his arms. He chirrs out a rumbly, birdy purr, and nestles in closer to the incredible heat.

"This wasn't in the planning document. An oversight." An amused voice pokes through Grian's drifting thoughts. Why is his pillow talking? He bumps his face against it.

"A cute sight, more like." A different voice, from above Grian. "Maybe even a pair of cutes." Familiar.

"That is in his name." His pillow just won't stop talking. Grian nips at it trying to get it to be quiet. Which just causes his pillow to chuckle. "He's biting me now."

The other flock voice joins in the laughing. "That sounds like my pretty bird. Bitey fellow." That's him! He's pretty bird! His flock is admiring him! Grian makes a pleased rumbly noise into his pillow. A hand makes itself known in his hair, scritching at the base of one of his headwings.

Said headwings give pleased little ruffles and flutters. All the better to be admired! "Yes you, you're my pretty bird. Yes you are. Adorable bite hazard." The voice above him coos.

Grian utterly melts, nuzzling into the warmth of his pillow as much as the warmth those words give him. Little bursts of song-chirps escape him.

"Those sound like happy chirps." His pillow observes, wonder in its voice.

"They are! Such a happy lil pretty bird, yes you are!" More scritches, more song-chirps. Grian could stay like this forever.

If Grian's pillow is going to keep talking, Grian's got no choice but to preen it within an inch of its life. He makes sure his legs are locked around it to hold it in place, before sliding his hands up- Hair, perfect! Ripe for preening!

Familiar motions, careful claws. A texture he doesn't recognize under his fingertips, but everything is too comfortable and safe for Grian to care. His warm toasty pillow needs to chill and there's no better way than getting a good preening.

His pillow makes a surprised-confused noise. Like it's never been preened before.

"Awwww! Look at that! He's preening you! I knew he'd warm up to you!" Another hand on him, on his back this time, rubbing his wing roots.

His pillow must not have come from good flock, if preening is confusing. That's okay, Grian is the best flock ever, so he'll just make up for it. After all, his pillow has been good and toasty for him. Only the sweetest little scalp-scritches for it.

Grian's breaths our become chirrs under the hand on his back. Preening, and preened. Everything right in the world. Grian spreads his wings out, invitingly.

"All it took was warming up literally, I guess." Grian's pillow chuckles.

Fingers start raking gently through Grian's wings, smoothing down sleep ruffled feathers. It only encourages the sleepy-sweet molasses in Grian's brain, pleased lil chirrs over the good flock-preen a good-proper ambience.

Flock is chirped at him in that characteristic Scar-accent. Of course Grian responds in kind, whistling out his appreciation for the both of them. The preening-hands and the warm-pillow both.

Preening-hands slowly resolve back into the image of Scar. But who is warm-pillow?

A band and clasp interrupt the hair Grian is preening, which is confusing, given that Scar is above him. Warm-pillow has a mask? Grian rubs his fingers over the clasp, trying to get his brain to think.

A warm hand comes up to carefully pull Grian's hand away from the clasp. Warm-pillow breathes a sigh of relief under him.

Warm-pillow isn't Lizzie, having stolen his mask and fallen asleep during revenge-cuddles again. The hair is too short, and the wrong texture. The voice is wrong too, too echo-y. So who-?

Grian takes the warm-hand between his hands, and pulls it close, rubbing it against his cheek. Soft. ...bandaged?

Past conversation tugs at Grian's mind. A shattered mug. Scar's foot, and... And-

And Grian's mind can't ignore anymore, what his intuition has known all along.

And Vex's hand.

Grian freezes. Completely stock still as emotions hit him in crashing waves.

First it's fear, drawing a frightened peep from him. He's in Vex's bed. Without Vex allowing him in. He just came and took what he wanted. And now he's vulnerable, so fresh out of sleep he hasn't even opened his eyes yet. Vex must be sitting there, malicious grin on his face, waiting to rip Grian to shreds for his audacity. Grian's whole body tenses.

Nothing happens. No ripping. No tearing. No pain. Not even an admonishing word. Just Scar, continuing to smooth his fright-fluffed feathers and cooing at him. Just Vex still toasty-warm in Grian's arms, indulgently letting him handle his hand.

Next comes confusion. Vex is warm. Vex is not supposed to be warm. Every time Grian's fist has connected with him, even when their fingers brushed yesterday- That unnatural chill, marking Vex as something Other. Something that feels more corpse than person.

But the Vex in his arms is toasty, a good radiator. A pillowy furnace.

Vex, hesitantly mimicking one of Scar's coos, a sound absurd enough to drag a bark of laughter out of Grian's high strung tension.

Hesitantly, Grian closes his arms a little firmer around Vex. He can't get away and do evil if he's held securely in Grian's arms. If it also means Grian is toasty warm while he snoozes, then, well. That's beside the point. Ignoring the soft chuckles from both sides, Grian snuggles closer to Vex. Basking in that glorious warmth.

Maybe if he sleeps a bit longer, he'll wake up in a world where he doesn't have to deal with this problem. Maybe Vex will at least be polite enough, or self-interested enough, to not chunky-salsa-ify his insides while in Vex's bed.

All excellent reasons for sleep to take Grian again, even if it seems reluctant to do so at this point. Rude. At least Scar has nearly entirely de-poofed his feathers, much more comfortable with them laying properly.

Grian makes lecturey chattery noises at Vex, for being all tricky and warm and entirely too comfortable. Not allowed. Illegal for someone so evil to be so cozy.

Noises Vex mimics back at him. The audacity! Grian has to wiggle his headwing out of Scar's fingers to bap Vex on the head. Furiously. So much bapping and chattering. Works himself into a good fury over it. Vex deserves all the whacking! He kidnapped Scar and stole Scar to sleep in his bed and he's unfairly warm and snugglable and way too smug about his stupid evil coziness! He must be whacked! It's basically Grian's job! His duty as Cuteguy!

"Some assistance here?" Vex's words are muffled by the righteous wing-based whackety-smackety Grian is giving him.

"Nah, you got this." Scar shakes under Grian from the force of his laughter. Good! He knows not to interfere with justice being served!

Just for good measure, Grian adds some of his best enraged shrieking. Nice and shrill and right next to Vex.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa-" Hands rapidly cover Grian's mouth, leaving him no choice but to chomp on them. Scar chokes down little noises of pain, but refuses to take his hands back, leaving Grian to aggressively bite and gnaw.

Irritatingly, his pillow has also gone rigid in his arms. Not very pillow-like of Vex, after all.

Cold brushes over Grian's arms as Vex phases clean through them, rolling out of bed and heading right out the door.

"Now look what you've done. You've hurt him." Scar drops his hands from Grian's mouth only after Vex is gone.

Grian rolls over, wrapping himself around Scar's torso instead. "Why should I care about that. He's evil." Dark mutterings.

None of the sullen squirming in Grian's gut is guilt. It's just- He's just disappointed to have lost the extra warmth, is all. Nothing more.

"Cuteguy." Scar's tone kicks up the internal writhing by several notches. Grian attempts to soothe it with the thought that Scar is here, he hadn't dropped Grian to chase after Vex, a lovesick puppy.

"What." Grian attempts to pull the blanket over his head. "I haven't actually done anything. Just gave him a well deserved wing bashing."

It’s not Grian’s fault if Vex is allergic to justice! He should have chosen not being evil instead!

Scar pulls the blanket back down, not allowing Grian to escape into darkness. “You know better than that.”

"Do I? Do I really?" If Scar's not letting him have the blanket, then Grian's gonna flop onto Scar and use his wings to grumble under. Just because Scar is unfairly infatuated with that no good evil villain doesn't mean he can get all righteous and stuck up about how Grian can treat said evil no good evil villain.

"You do. You know that wasn't right." Scar presses a hand to Grian's stomach, fingers splayed out over the squirming feeling that Grian keeps fighting down. "And you care that it wasn't right. It doesn't sit well."

"No. It sits just fine! I sit just fine!" Huffing, Grian tries to pry Scar's hand off him. Why does the mushy stupid feely idiot have to be this strong! It's blatantly unfair. If Grian wants to be nasty to Vex that's his issue. Not Scar's. So why is Scar getting involved? If he cares so much he should go mope around Vex and beg for his attention like the trained dog Vex has turned him into. See if Grian cares.

Scar’s disappointed sigh is stupid and pointless. Yet worse is the way he simply manhandles Grian into sitting upright on his lap, facing him. Why even bother when Grian can just flop-

Well. Scar’s steady arms wrapping around him in a hug does make flopping back down slightly more difficult. Stupid. Dumb. Why does Scar have to hold him like Scar cares? Why does Scar have to chirp flock to him, in that goofy accent of his? How dare he.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Scar’s most soothing tone.

Why? Grian’s fine! Never been better! He's fine! The way he clings to Scar is normal! It's just how he cuddles his best friend!

"Wh- Why are you in his bed anyway? Didn't he get one just for you?" Grian firmly maintains his voice did not break due to suppressed sob right there. He's fine. And fine people do not cry. Or hide their tears in their best friends shoulder. It's just comfy! Just snuggling! Scar isn't even wearing a shirt he could dry said nonexistent tears on!

“He did, yep. But we were having dinner and just kinda fell asleep like this.” Scar explains, just a smidge too cheerfully.

“Dinner. In bed. With him.” Grian deadpans, suspicious. Investigating Scar’s fishy story is very important!

"Yes!" Scar perks up. "He said if I have dinner I can be in charge of cookin' breakfast today and he got me four different cakes for dessert, and oh! I didn't get around to bringing you your sandwich before I feel asleep, I wonder where Vexy put it." Scar starts lifting the blankets like Vex is keeping food in the bed.

“He probably threw it out.” Grian quips, not letting himself think of the sandwich he vaguely barely remembers scarfing down.

“No! He would never! Well. He might now. But he wouldn’t have then!” Scar protests, still searching. He checks under Grian’s wings as well, with gentle hands.

"It was probably a lame sandwich anyway. Boring and basic." Grian's definitely not thinking about the perfect hints of spice between crunchy creamy meaty bites. The way the sweet soda matched it so well.

"Noooo! He asked me what you want! He was all thoughtful like! Picked out something called the Chicken Killer for you! With fire sauce!" Scar laments, checking under the pillows before dramatically throwing himself across them. Of course Scar drags Grian down with him into the pillows, wrapping himself around Grian and grumping into Grian’s hair before sagging. “Sorry. I know you get hungry- I swear I really-really meant to remember to bring it to you. I’ll make you extra breakfast, I don’t know where it went.”

Traitorous body, cringing and squirming in Scar’s grip. The too-earnest babbled apologies grate against Grian.

Latching onto the one not-apology bit in that word spill, Grian fluffs up again. Batters Scar with his wings. "Hotguuuuuuuy! You let him give me something called a 'Chicken Killer'! Are you trying to kill me!? Who knows what could have been in that! I could have died!" More outraged screeching fills the room.

Scar catches a wing, startling Grian out of his yelling. Normally Scar just takes it, or shoves back at his body rather than-

“You only could have died if you ate it.” Scar squints at Grian. Shit.

Grian tries to flinch back, but Scar doesn’t let go of his wing. The grip is careful, between the feathers and down to the skin, not risking any snapped plumage, but unrelenting.

Grian squirms. "That was- That was purely theoretical! Yes! I would never eat mystery sandwiches appearing on nightstands!" He waves his arms about, like that will make Scar any less suspicious of him in this moment.

“Of course not. Silly of me.” Scar shakes his head, relenting. He gives an apologetic smile. “You probably wouldn’t even have liked it, what with the no veggies and all. I know how important acrobatic food is to you.”

"It was the worst. No crunch at all." Grian agrees. "You still owe me a big breakfast." Scar's no longer holding his wing in place, instead running his fingers through the feathers to smooth them down.

“Of course, of course, only the biggest breakfast for my poor starving pretty bird.” Scar assures, fingers sweeping smoothly through Grian’s feathers along with his words. “Subjected to a terrible murder dinner, without any crunch at all! Torment and woe. There, there, let it all out.”

"You better!" Grian chirps. When Scar makes no move to get up or stop playing with his feathers, he adds "Well? Get to it! I'm hungee!"

"Right away, my good sir!" Scar presses a kiss to Grian's wing, before sliding it off his lap. He throws back the blankets and wriggles his toes. "Let's see how the legs are doin' on this fine morning!" Hoisting himself out of bed, Scar carefully puts weight on one foot before the other. Stretching and bouncing a bit to test how mobile he is today.

Grian, however, is more preoccupied by the fact that Scar is naked. Well. On second glance, naked except for the infernal Collar.

“If you’re going to sleep in the enemy’s bed you could at least wear some damn clothes! Why were you eating dinner naked-” Grian spouts off the first words that come to him, trying to avoid noticing the way his stomach flips at the sight of the collar. Sticky-sweet memories fight to trickle back into Grian’s head, barely countered by all the righteous indignation Grian can muster.

"But pretty bird, we were in the shower right before dinner. You can't wear clothes in the shower! That defeats the whole purpose!" Scar smoothly struts off into Vex's closet, leaving the door open as he hums and peruses through the clothes in it. "What do you think, should I steal his black shirt today?"

Grian takes long seconds to fully process what Scar said. "Why were you showering with him!" Accordingly loud accusatory screeches. "And why are you wearing that stupid collar again!" A pillow flumps on the ground short of the closet.

“You’re right, black does bring out my eyes. Good choice.” Scar is far far too cheerful about all of this. And dressing himself in Vex’s stupid clothing. Without answering any of Grian’s very important questions-

So Grian repeats them. At volume.

“Hm? Oh, sharing a shower is far more efficient! Didn’t you tell me that yourself? Like after patrols? Not to mention with him all fussed about me standing, I think he’d have fretted his wings clean off if I hopped out to shower by myself.” Scar fiddles with the collar of his shirt until the blasted collar is clearly visible above it, all the way around.

"Now, to track down some pants." Scar disappears deeper into the closet, out of Grian's view.

"Not with your archnemesis, Hotguy! You're only supposed to share showers with friends!" Grian windmills his arms in outrage. "Besides, you know how us sharing a shower often ends!" If they aren't completely wiped out after patrol, a solid fuck does wonders for unwinding.

“Sorry, Hotguy can’t come to the phone right now, leave a message after the beep!” Scar calls from the depths of the absurdly lavish closet. Who even needs all that space anyway! Just for some clothing! “Beep!” Scar belatedly remembers to add.

“Hotguy better get his butt back here on the double-” Grian starts, before being interrupted by just that, popping back out of the closet, Scar’s scantily clad butt, covered only in the loosest sense with absurdly tight bright toxic waste green glittery booty shorts.

“How’s that~?” Scar giggles.

"Hurting my eyes."Grian deadpans. Why does Vex even have glittery booty shorts.

"Boo." Scar disappears back into the closet for a long moment, before come out, fully dressed. In a soft looking black black button up that's only partially buttoned, the atrociously green sparkly bootyshorts, and a silver chain peaking out from the open part of the shirt, glittering against the golden skin of Scar's chest. Grian's brain shortciruits as Scar strikes a pose, showing off his outfit from his best angle.

"What do you think, pretty bird? Do I live up to your standards of beauty?" Scar throws his arms wide and preens under Grian's gaze.

Turns out, while Grian's brain was failing to reboot in order to even begin conceiving of a reply, his body had already come up with one. Slipping off the bed, padding over to Scar and just-

Tugging that silver chain.

Scar mewls, artfully fluttering his eyelashes as he yields into Grian's tugging. Running his fingers down the chain, Grian finds where they're connected to nipple clamps. Nipple clamps! Where- How- Why? Why is Scar like this?

And what else is Grian supposed to do about it? He drags Scar down and seizes Scar's lips in a kiss, a tiny growl muffled into it. Scar was his first! He can't- He won't let Scar forget that. Even if they aren't-

Scar knocks the thoughts out of him, moaning sweetly and inviting Grian in. This much, in this way, Grain can claim him.

The lovely kiss is interrupted rudely by Grian's tummy rumbling it's desire for breakfast loudly. Frustrated, Grian gives the chain a sharp yank, before giving a good shove. Scar stumbles back, ruffled with kiss swollen slick lips.

Scar makes such a pretty picture.

"Stop dawdling around and go make me breakfast!" Grian jokingly grouses.

"As you wish, pretty bird." Scar only looks enamoured- No, it's just him still being dazed, is all. Still, Scar winks, and sashays out the door, swinging his hips with each step, and leaving Grian alone in the room to catch his breath.

#hero for sale cinematic universe #nowhere else to go #welcome back to birb hours!#where everything goes So Well!#a step in every direction

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