cubscar week 2023

The Evoker known as Cub found himself back at a mansion. Some Evokers had home mansions, where they always returned, but for Cub, he wandered too much, so he made his home in the closest mansion. He was several thousands of blocks away from spawn, but that suited him. It kept the players out of his hair as he did some further research on skulk and its uses in magic.

Evokers had learned a lot about skulk over the years, but there was still a lot that remained unknown, and Cub was particularly interested in filling in the gaps. As someone who'd spent more time than most down in ancient cities converting Allays, he particularly wanted to know about the specific potion he used, and why it worked the way it did.

Scar, his favourite Vex, had made him think about this more than perhaps he might have done. He could see now how much of the Allay's core remained, and how much was corrupted. That an Allay traumatised by a player could still carry that trauma as a Vex, and how that manifested, was not something anyone had written about, possibly because no other Evokers had this kind of relationship with their Vexes. So Cub had been writing this all down to preserve this knowledge. It may lead to new ways of keeping corrupted Allays.

Scar was a curious Vex, too. He bore scars no Allay should bear due to their swift healing abilities, and in spite of the corruption overtaking him completely, something in his heart still remembered being an Allay. He was still kind. He could still love and care, and he responded to the love and care Cub gave him. Vexes having personalities, and the capacity to feel, was not something he expected, nor something he had been taught when he was becoming an Evoker. They were meant to be a collective. Vexes were never individuals. And yet here was Scar, breaking all the rules.

Since Cub had enacted revenge on the player who'd hurt Scar some months ago, Scar had calmed down a lot. He'd also started spending a lot of time with the Allays when he wasn't with Cub, though Cub had no idea what they were doing together. He just knew Scar returned to him happier. The Allays wouldn't hurt him anyway, and he'd never seen Scar raise his sword against them; indeed, Scar always left his sword with Cub, who took care of it until Scar returned. Allays didn't like iron was all the explanation Scar would ever give.

The study Cub was in had a large window overlooking the forest. Here, he'd set up a small brewing station, as well as some bookshelves that he'd packed with all the books the mansion had on skulk and potion-brewing. He was currently testing what effects skulk had on various potions by adding some of the sticky liquid to them and seeing what happened. For the most part, nothing happened, which was interesting in and of itself, as it suggested skulk was not some all-purpose potion ingredient, but had to be used in a specific way to unlock its magic.

Wither roses were like that, too. You could produce withering potions, but they took a long time to craft, and required a very specific set-up to get the wither rose oil as concentrated as it needed to be to have the required effect. Maybe he'd run skulk through a similar process and see if he could distill anything from it that could be more useful.

He got up from his desk to check on the potions again. He had four lined up on the bench, all with the same dark iridescent skulky glow. The only reason he knew what the base potions were was the labels on each one. Their original colours were long gone. He picked up what had once been a regeneration potion. The smell was weirdly acrid, with the charcoal smell that came with ghast tears a more distant scent.

"Hmm. I'm pretty sure this would kill me if I tried it. It just smells… wrong. There has to be a better way to work with this stuff," Cub said to himself.

He checked the other potions. All similar in smell, with the harming II potion smelling particularly putrid once he'd uncapped the bottle. He made a face and threw it into the cauldron of lava he used to dispose of the potions once he was done with them. It was the only thing strong enough to destroy all the gunk that built up in the bottom of the bottles. The bottles themselves were unsalvageable, too. Something about the interaction of skulk and potions made the skulk react to the glass, and it wasn't pretty. So into the lava they went.

"I did read something about mushrooms being helpful, maybe I'll try working with those next. In the meantime, more potions!" Cub said as he started brewing up the next four potions he wanted to test.

"Master, master, allay hurt, come quickly, bring potions!" Scar said, colliding into Cub's shoulder as he set the water bottles into the brewing stand.

Cub turned his attention to the Vex, who was tugging on his robes as he tried to fly backwards, needing him to follow. "An Allay's hurt? In the prison?"

"Yes, yes, master, come, quick, hurthurthurt," Scar said, the urgency in his voice spurring Cub into action.

Cub grabbed his potion bag and let Scar lead him down a floor to the prison where some Allays were being kept for future transformation by other Evokers. Cub didn't really need them as his Vex army was already large enough. Scar phased through the walls of the cell where the hurt Allay was, and Cub followed, seeing all the Allays gathered around one who seemed to be in a bad way. If an Allay wasn't flying, that wasn't good. Its skin also seemed to be tarnished in some way. Scar was by the Allay's side, holding them close as he gestured for Cub to help.

"Master, master, hurthurt, needs help," Scar said, helping the Allay sit up.

"Alright, let me take a look," Cub said, gently picking up the Allay with his hands. "I won't hurt you, little one, what's the problem?"

The Allay's eyes glowed dimly, and now that he could see the Allay's skin up close, he knew exactly what the problem was. "Wither roses. Damn. Someone rescued you from a dangerous place, that's for sure. I wonder where all the thorns are? I'll have to take them out if I'm going to stop the withering."

Cub got out a small table and placed the Allay down on top of a soft cushion on its front. He had a strong suspicion there were thorns in the wings, and he needed to work delicately to get them all out without ruining the creature's wings. He grabbed a torch out and handed it to a nearby Allay.

"Hold that for me and stay by my side. I need that light shining down on your friend here, can you do that for me? I'm going to save them, and stop them hurting," Cub said.

The Allay took the torch and seemed to understand what Cub wanted, hovering close by so the torchlight shone over the table. The other Allays hovered around Cub's head while Scar stayed by the hurt Allay, offering comfort.

Cub got out his tools, and set them by his side. He also took out a couple of potions, health and regen, and offered spoonfuls to the hurt Allay. The Allay drank them gratefully, its tiny hands holding the spoon close as it drank, and its body seemed to shimmer afterwards. A good sign!

"You probably don't need them, but I'd rather not hunt for thorns without giving you some protection. I'll give you some milk afterwards. Hopefully there aren't too many thorns stuck in you," Cub said. "I'll try to be gentle, and please don't move, it will make things harder."

Cub picked up a magnifying lens and some tweezers, and got to work, carefully moving the delicate wing feathers out of the way as he hunted for thorns. They were small, jagged black thorns that got caught on all kinds of things, burying into the skin to keep that withering effect going. Usually they fell out after a while, but sometimes, they got stuck in places where they couldn't fall out, giving the victim permanent withering. For most creatures, this would simply kill them. But Allays could heal faster than withering could kill them, leaving them in this half-alive withering state.

"It's what makes withering last so long, those thorns get stuck into you. I don't know where you came from, but I can guess you were trapped in a place with wither roses. How players can do that to Allays, I'll never know. The worst thing is, I know you can't be converted now. The withering residue makes the corruption process fail. That's something I also need to study, because we don't know why that is. Withering may offer some protection from skulk infection," Cub said as he found a couple of thorns and gently eased them out of the Allay's wings.

The Allay made little whimpering cries, but didn't move. Cub noticed Scar was holding the Allay's hand, and he was talking to them in that sing-song Allay language. Translating, reassuring, Cub didn't know. But Scar was focused on the Allay and keeping them calm, and Cub appreciated whatever the Vex was doing.

Cub stopped after removing three thorns, and offered more potions to the Allay. More was always better than less, and it gave the creature a moment to breathe and recover. Cub could sense the Allay was in significant pain, but he hoped that would lessen as the thorns were removed and the withering effect allowed to finally wear off.

Cub channelled some Vex magic into his hands and lay them over the Allay. "Gonna try to dull down the pain for you, little one, make you more comfortable. Scar, be ready for potions. We're not done yet."

The Vex hissed and nodded, grabbing the spoon while not letting go of the Allay's hand. Cub noticed the Vex was keeping the Allay's gaze fixed on them, and he saw Scar press a soft kiss to the Allay's head. There was no Vex magic in that kiss, Cub could tell, but the Allay's energy calmed down. There was less jagged energy as Cub's magic began to work. Reducing pain was a tricky thing, because he needed the Allay's pain response to still work, but not to the point where the poor creature couldn't feel anything at all, or felt everything too much. Just numbing it a little, that's what he aimed to do.

The Allays gathered around him started singing in their little sweet voices. That was creating magic of its own, and it seemed to energise the Allay. Satisfied the creature was comfortable for now, Cub got back to work, using the magnifying lens to search for more thorns.

It took an hour to find them all, in the end. It was a slow process of pulling a couple out, giving more potions, letting the Allay rest, and then doing it all again, until Cub was sure there were no more thorns. They did give off a certain energy, and once that was gone, Cub was sure he'd found them all. The Allay was allowed to rest again as Cub got out some milk, offering them a spoonful to clear away any lingering potion and withering effects. The Allay drank gratefully, and then seemed to fall into some kind of sleep.

Scar lay down beside the Allay, holding them gently. Scar was attached to the Allay, it seemed. Cub gently lay a small cloth over them, and began putting his tools away, satisfied, pocketing the thorns to use later on. The Allays were singing happily now, flying around their friend.

"They'll be alright now. We'll see how they are after a rest. They may still need more healing, but at least the withering is gone," Cub said to himself.

He sat back, watching the Allays guarding their friend. Much as Cub loved Vexes and commanding them in battle, there was something about Allays that he just found so fascinating. Corrupting them into Vexes wouldn't work if they didn't have the seeds inside them to corrupt, and yet they were the most innocent, helpful, silly creatures he'd ever met.

They flocked to him now, curling up around his shoulders as they offered their gratitude. There were soft little kisses and singing and a different kind of wing brushing against his skin. And when the hurt Allay woke, the creature turned to Cub and flew to him, allowing Cub to hold the creature against his chest. Scar was there too, and the intensity of the love coming from the Allay was a little overwhelming. Evokers weren't used to feeling those kinds of emotions from mobs, and something inside him felt touched by the experience. Not enough to stop being an evoker, of course, or from corrupting more Allays. But it was a nice moment.

"I guess I'm keeping this one, since no one will want an Allay they can't corrupt. Let's go get you somewhere nicer to rest. You and Scar can help me with my research," Cub said.

Cub didn't consider keeping the others; they weren't his Allay, and he wasn't sure what he'd do with four other Allays anyway. He did take back the torch, though, and watched the Allays start to fly around again, aloof as they always were. Cub cradled the now-healed Allay in his arms as Scar nestled in next to them.

The Allay was more lively in the study now, seemingly very curious about what they were seeing. They were flying, which was a good sign. Now all he needed to do was name the creature and bind it to him so it wouldn't stray.

"What should we call this one, Scar? It needs a name," Cub said as he prepared the collar. A nice purple one, that would suit.

Scar flew around, chasing the Allay playfully. "Allay have names, master. Not like Vex. Ask Allay for its name," Scar said.

"Allays have names? That's a new one. I didn't know that. What's your name, then, Scar?" Cub said.

The Vex ducked under a table leg, now being pursued by the Allay. "Forget now. Scar is my name, master."

"Ah, shame. Must be a side-effect of the binding spell. Hmm. Can you ask the Allay what its name is then?" Cub said.

Scar switched languages as the two came to a rest on Cub's desk. The Allay snuggled close to Scar, and Cub had to smile at the sight of them. Allay language was quite beautiful to listen to, even if he couldn't understand it. They could clearly understand him when he told them what to do, but their ability to communicate with him would be impossible without Scar to translate.

"Jellie. Her name is Jellie, master. She heard a player say it once and liked the sound of it," Scar said.

"Well, then, Jellie it is. Does she like the purple collar? Or should I change it?" Cub asked.

"She is sending me a colour that is neither blue nor green but sort of like both, master. I don' have a name for this colour," Scar said.

"Oh, like cyan? That might be it. I think I have a cyan collar stashed away somewhere," Cub said, pulling out his potion bag again.

Cub rummaged around in his bag, pulling out all the spare collars he had. He always had a stash on him in case he needed them, but it was usually just whatever colours he had on him at the time. He pulled out a red one, another orange one, two white ones, a blue one, and yes! Cyan. There it was. He showed it to the Allay.

"This colour?" Cub asked.

The Allay trilled happily and spun around.

"I take it that's a yes, then. Good," Cub said.

"Yes, yes, master, she likes that colour," Scar said.

"Well, then, Jellie, let's get this collar organised," Cub said.

It took little time to engrave the name on the collar, and with a little more magic, the binding was done as the collar was secured around the Allay's neck.

"I know you'll be thinking you won't stray, but this is to protect you as much as anything else. If someone hurts you, the magic in that collar will summon Vex to attack whatever is hurting you. That works for you too, Scar. I don't know if I ever told you that, though. All my Vexes are protected by this magic. Hurt one, hurt the entire army. You aren't alone and defenceless now," Cub said.

The King's throne had been enlarged, enough for Cub and Scar to sprawl over it, gazing out at the throne room before them. Ren wasn't around. Not that it would matter if he was. They knew this was where they rightfully belonged.

"You know what this throne room needs, Scar?" Cub mused.

"Oh, I can think of a few things, Cub. What are you thinking of?" Scar said.

"Cake. There is a serious lack of cake in this throne room," Cub said.

Scar nodded. "You're so right there. We need cake! How can we have a throne room without cake! But, wait. Why would we give him cake?"

"Well, you let me set a trap under one, and, well. There's a large vault under our feet. I'm sure it won't take us long to alleviate him of the tiny crown," Cub said.

"Oh, so we make a feast! Yeah! I'll bring some of my cookies! He'll love it! He won't be able to resist those," Scar said excitedly.

Cub laughed. "Feel free to lace them with something if you want. I mean, we're not trying to kill him, of course. Just, well. Weaken him. You know what I mean."

Scar did know what he meant. "No, I know. Don't worry. And once he gives us the crown, then we will be kings! Co-rulers! Yeah! We'll show them what the ConVex can do with power."

"I mean, we could be kings, but why be kings, when we can be gods? Maybe I'll bring the Pharaoh back, baby. Be the Sun God Himself. And you, Scar, can be my moon. Together, we'll be unstoppable," Cub said, shifting to face him.

"Moon and sun, hey? Yeah! I like that!" Scar said, taking Cub's hands. "And all we gotta do, is get Ren some cookies."

"We'll dethrone him with cake. I'm sure he'll love that," Cub said.

Scar touched his cheek softly and kissed him. Oh, the Vex magic was flowing strongly now. Cub's eyes were glowing, and Scar could taste honey on his lips.

"All hail the Pharaoh!" Scar said.

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

The game had barely started, yet Double Life was already draining. This whole soulmate thing was messing with Scar - he was already bonded, he didn't need anyone else. Cub was waiting for him back on Hermitcraft and Scar was once again stuck in a game.

The allay pressed against Scar's hand, leaning into the touch as he scratched its chin. This felt so familiar yet so different.

"Do you know Cub?" Scar asked the fairy, knowing full well that if allays were anything like vexes, it wouldn't understand him. He also knew that even if it did understand him, there was no way it would know Cub. That was fine, Scar just wanted to mindlessly talk. "He's an allay too, like you."

There was no reaction from the allay, just like he had expected, but the melodic purring sound it made as he continued the petting still felt comforting - it reminded him of Jellie. After Last Life, it was nice to just have someone who would listen, even if that someone didn't understand a word.

"He's my soulmate," Scar continued. He had a good vantage point here, a wooded mountaintop, granting him a clear view of most of the server with the trees still somewhat covering him from others' curious gazes. "I miss him a lot."

Scar knew the allay didn't know what he was saying, yet he could almost swear it knew something was wrong. Maybe it could sense he was sad? He should ask Cub if that was something allays did, once he would get back home.

"He's not quite like you. He's not as touchy, though he likes touch - he just doesn't seek it out much. I always tell him he can if he feels like it, but he rarely does. It's okay though, I think I’m clingy enough for the both of us."

"Cub is very mischievous, sometimes even a little evil! People sometimes say he's more vex than I am, but that's not true!" Scar flashed the allay a smile, that despite being in his human form, was just a bit too sharp to seem fully human.

The allay whirred and Scar kept rambling. "He's very kind and caring too, and polite! He always helps me with things." Scar could see people running around in the valley, probably looking for their soulmates. His temporary soulmate was probably somewhere down there too.

"Cub would never leave me."

-

"Jellie," Cub sighed as the cat pushed against his legs, meowing loudly. She seemed annoyed and Cub didn’t know what to do. "You've already been outside, we played with your toys, and I've given you food. I don't know what more you could want."

It was a bit stressful, taking care of an animal. Cub liked cats, Jellie especially had a special place in his heart, and he technically knew how to take care of one, but he had already used all the tricks up his sleeve and Jellie still wasn't content.

Gently he picked her up, holding her carefully against his chest. Jellie immediately nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, just like her owner sometimes would when they cuddled. It was incredibly endearing.

"You miss him too, don't you?" Cub asked as he scratched the behind of Jellie's ears, listening to her whining change into purring. No wonder she had been restless. "It's okay, Scar will be back soon."

Scar always came back from the games, this wasn't the first time he, alongside many other hermits, had suddenly disappeared. They always came back sooner or later. How the games had treated them was a whole other thing.

"He'll be back before you know it," Cub mumbled, more to comfort himself than Jellie.

Cub had seen the aftermath of Last Life, how badly it had messed Scar up. He hoped this game would be easier on him, though with the nature of this whole thing, it didn't seem very likely. As grateful as Cub was for managing to avoid upsetting whatever higher power it was that chose the players for the games, he still wished he could be there for Scar.

"He's strong, he will manage just fine," Cub continued as he made his way to their shared bedroom. Scar was strong, one of the strongest people Cub had ever met, even though he tended to downplay his achievements.

Setting Jellie down on the bed, Cub grabbed a few blankets before sitting down and pulling them over himself. Jellie jumped across the mattress, up to where Cub was sitting and curled up on his lap, rubbing her head against the blankets that must smell like Scar.

Who's decision was it to go into the mansion? Well, maybe his, but Bdubs had encouraged him! But it became clear they hadn't been the first to loot it, and there wasn't much left to steal. There were no priests or vindicators around anyway. Someone had taken the totems and all the good stuff and left them with a diamond hoe, some gunpowder, a lead, and a nametag. Well, could be worse. At least he didn't have to face any Vex-

Scar froze as the scent of Vex magic filled the air. "Oh no. Was there one priest left? Oh no. I-I- Bdubs! Bdubs! There's a magic hands man! I can sense Vexes!"

He turned, ran down the corridor where he'd last seen Bdubs. He kept calling for him, but Bdubs seemed to be somewhere out of earshot. Scar began to panic. As he turned to look in one final room, he saw someone he was not expecting to see, and Vex magic began pulsing strongly through him as Cub, in half Vex form, slid off the table in the middle of the room and walked towards him.

"Scar! There you are! I wondered when you'd come by. Couldn't resist, could you? The pull of the mansion is irresistable to a Vex," Cub said.

"Well, Bdubs encouraged me! I wouldn't have dared without him," Scar said.

"Yes, where is Bdubs anyway? He's around here somewhere, I can feel him," Cub said, brushing past Scar as he went into the corridor.

Scar followed, unsure if he wanted Bdubs to be found or not. He stood in the hallway as Cub went into a room further down, and moments later, emerged, dragging Bdubs by his hair.

"Hey! Hey, look! No need to be harsh! I wasn't hiding, I swear!" Bdubs said as he staggered along behind Cub.

"You forget the Vex know your heart, Bdubs. This way," Cub said, gesturing for Scar to follow.

"Is that why you're here, Cub? Did the Vex send you? Because I didn't think you were interested in playing in this series," Scar said.

"Oh, I'm not. That's your job, not mine," Cub said.

Scar believed him, feeling the Vex magic pulling him onwards. Even Bdubs was quiet. Cub said nothing else as he led them into a room on the third floor, where Bdubs was unceremoniously shoved down onto his knees as Cub took a seat in front of him. Scar joined Bdubs on his knees, understanding the protocols at play here.

"Well, well, well. Our two recalcitrant Vexes. Glad to see you still know your place," Cub said.

Scar went to reply, but thought better of it as he heard the voice of the Vex in Cub's voice. He was channeling. He lowered his gaze and curled into himself. He could feel the Vexes hanging around. Now was not the time to be stupid. Even Bdubs was appropriately quiet and subservient as he looked at the floor, averting his gaze.

"We've been watching these death games for a while, and we feel they're missing something. Something we think you two are well-placed to provide," Cub said.

"And what might that be, master?" Scar said.

Cub leaned over and lifted Scar's chin up. Yes, the Vexes were in his eyes, and he got lost in the stars he could see, feeling Vexspace pulling him in. He closed his eyes as Cub kissed him softly, feeling Vex magic flood through his body.

"Chaos. Total chaos," Cub said.

"Total chaos?" Scar said. "You mean-?"

"You can read our thoughts, you know what we mean," Cub said.

Scar looked at Cub as a flood of imagery filled his head. Fire, distractions, death, pranks, Vex magic being used to tear alliances apart, at least as far as Scar could see. There was a lot of other things going on, and who knew how many of them they'd be able to pull off? There wasn't much he could predict.

"S-so you want us to, like, so you mean…" Bdubs said, struggling to deal with the imagery he was seeing.

Cub turned to Bdubs and grasped his hair, forcing their eyes to meet. "Yes, you see what we mean. Your allegiance is to the Vex and to no one else. Don't forget that."

"Gah! I won't, I won't, I promise!" Bdubs said.

"I would never! We'll do our best, master," Scar said.

Scar instinctively reached for Bdubs' hand, hearing the fear in his voice. He was unsure they were capable of pulling off what the Vex had in mind. Sure, he normally played with a certain amount of chaos because that's what he was like, but were they capable of playing the whole server and turning everyone against each other? Maybe, maybe not.

"Obedience is your only choice. Now, give us blood, we are hungry tonight," Cub said.

“Bats can bite,” warned Cub.

Scar was already reaching out his hand. He wasn’t even listening. His eyes were gleaming with excitement and wonder. “Here, little batty-batty. Here, let me just—oh. Oh no, Cub, look! It’s hurt! There’s—” He swallowed. “Cub, there’s blood.”

The creature was trying to stand. Scar was right: There was dried blood on the grass. “Its wing is torn,” said Cub. He leaned closer, trying to keep the branches of the thick shrubbery out of both his and Scar’s face.

“We got to help it! Right?”

Cub thought about it, while the creature struggled to its feet. Its wings twitched and its bony little body trembled. It kept silent. It had been making noise earlier, though. They had been led to its hiding place by a high-pitched, fragmented cry. “We can’t take it home,” he said, slow. They were not supposed to be in the forest at all, they would get in trouble; and he was not sure if moving a wounded animal was a good idea.

Scar twisted to look at him. “But we can’t just leave it, we got to do something! At least let’s give it food so that it can get stronger. It can have my chocolate! And, and, you can fix the wing, like you fixed my arm.”

Scar had so much faith in him always. He thought Cub was able to do anything. After Scar had fallen from the tree, when Cub had tried to pull his shoulder back in place, he hadn’t even cried much. He had been sure it would be fine. Cub had been so scared, but he had pretended to be brave. For Scar.

“Yeah.” Cub nodded. “Yeah, I could try. We can put a bandage on it. But animals can't have chocolate, Scar. It will make them sick.”

Scar took that in a stride. “Apple, then.” The creature was leaning its strangely human-like face towards his fingers now. It swayed from side to side as Scar carefully scratched from under its chin.

“Yeah, apple is good.”

When Scar stepped back to rummage through his backpack, Cub crouched closer to get a better look at the creature’s injury. The wing was hanging in a weird angle. The creature followed his every move, eyes unblinking. It hissed and flinched back when he reached for the broken wing. “I’m helping,” Cub assured. "I'm helping. It’s okay." It seemed to understand, since when he tried again it kept in place and let him touch. It didn’t even struggle much when he pulled the bones how he imagined a wing should be.

He wrapped the wing in a makeshift bandage. Scar cut bite-sized pieces of an apple with a pocket knife and offered one to the creature. It showed its teeth, needle-sharp, and then bit down so quickly Scar startled back.

“Whoa.” He was still looking awed. “You know what I think, Cub? 

"What?"

"I think it’s not a bat.”

Cub agreed, in secret, but he did not want to say it, because what else could it be? “Bats do eat fruit,” he pointed out. Maybe bats could stand up too. He was pretty sure bats had small eyes, though, not huge, hazy ones. He was pretty sure a bat from the forest would not let two boys this close and allow them to mishandle its wing without trying to flee. Not even if one of them was Scar.

“I think,” said Scar, “I think that it’s a fairy.”

Cub bit his lip. Fairies didn’t exist. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I don’t know. Could be.”

Scar fed the creature another piece of fruit, and then another, and—

“Ow!” He had cut himself. A bead of bright-red blood bloomed at the tip of his thumb.

The creature’s eyes lit up. Its wings flared. It jumped.

Scar cried out as the little fairy-bat grabbed his hand and dragged his thumb like a dumpy candy stick to its (wide, wide, way too wide) mouth.

They both watched, transfixed, as the creature’s eyes took a darker shade, and it began to suck.

“A—ah—ow. Oww.” Scar's lips trembled, but he sounded more confused than hurt. “Cub.”

Cub had no idea what to do. “Do you want me to,” he asked, “Should I…”

“No, no, don’t hurt it!” Scar was shaking, his voice broke, but he did his very best to stay still. “Ah! No! It’s, it’s just hungry, right? Little batty. It’s a meat-eater. We can—” He swallowed, and looked down at the creature. “We can bring you meat, okay? We’ll bring you food.”

Strange enough, Scar’s pleading voice had the desired effect. The creature tilted its head and drew back until Scar's thumb slipped out of its mouth. It still didn’t blink.

Scar didn’t try to pull his hand away yet. “Is that okay? Do you want food, batty-bat?”

It hissed. It let go of Scar and dropped back to ground.

“We’ll bring you food,” said Scar. “It’s a deal then! Me and Cub will take care of you.”

He pulled off his shirt and made a little nest out of it under the bushes. Cub cut the rest of the apple. They did not have any kind of a bowl to give it water, but it looked livelier now that it had drunk Scar’s blood. Cub believed that if it kept hidden, it would survive the night.

He had an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, like he had eaten something rotten, but he pushed it down. They were doing a good thing.

First siphoning off from Scar's smelter. Then when he got caught, filling all systems with magenta terracotta. Scar loved it, it kept him on his toes.

But his favorite were the shared meals, especially breakfast. Being able to spend more time with Cub was wonderful. Starting the day together before going off to their respective projects. His theme park, and the monstrosity Cub was building out in the desert. Scar couldn't wait. 

And breakfast was a constant wonderful game in its own right. Scar, the head elf and chef of the cookie empire. Cub, co-founder and advocate for GigaPies. The eternal (new-found) rivalry of who had the superior sweet delight.

(Excluding cake, of course.)

Every day the table between them was stacked with glorious foods. Not just cookies and pies, but also cut fruit, honeyed bread, jam, and yogurts. A feast every day. 

And every day they tried to convince the other to give in to their sweet temptations. 

In-between talking about projects or plans, banter was filled with playful words and silly little teases. Needling each other up over everything and nothing at all, before lapsing into comfortable silence and enjoying each other’s company.

Cub was leaning his chin on one hand, a satisfied half smile on his lips. He was watching Scar eat, Scar exaggeratedly savoring every bite. It was all part of the game. Scar knew Cub well enough that some devious plan must be brewing in that pretty head of his.

And sure enough, after a moment Cub slowly and purposefully moved his free hand to take a cookie off Scars plate and inspect it closely from all angles.

Scar watched him with curiosity, he knew their pretend feud wouldn't end so easily. They were both not the kind to give in without a fight.

"They do look good, gotta admit, gotta admit." Cub met Scar's eyes. "Compliments to the chef. What'd you call these, an Elven Kiss? Well," his smile grew sharper, more mischievous. He held the cookie out to Scar. "There might be one way to convince me to try one of these."

Scar matched Cub’s grin in kind, his eyes gleaming. This was not a challenge he would back down from. But he didn't take the cookie, oh no, two could play this game. Instead he deliberately leaned over the table.

Scar opened his mouth to eat the cookie out of Cubs hand, keeping eye contact, licking some frosting off Cubs fingers. Cub's eyes were intense and focused on Scar’s every move.

Scar braced one hand on the table to lean over Cub and kiss him. Cub gave a deep appreciating hum, clearly savoring it, licking into Scar's mouth to chase the taste.

"Mhmh, yes, very sweet." Cub said as Scar leaned back after what felt like an eternity and yet not long enough. "But I think I'll stick with pies." The look on his face was full of mirth and mischievousness.

Scar chuckled, something pleasant spreading in his gut at the taste of his favourite treat. This wasn't over yet. 

Looking Cub in the eyes he licked his lips. "In that case, maybe I should try it as well?"

"Sure, man. I can't speak for the skills of the cook, but it is the superior food around here."

With bated breath Scar watched him raise his fork and pick up a small slice of pie.

But instead of bringing it to his own lips to then let Scar have a sweet taste, like Scar had hoped, Cub held the pie out in front of him with a self-satisfied grin on his lips. Clearly he believed he had won the little game they were playing. "I knew you would come around."

"Oh, you trickster." 

Scar remembered hearing about the discovery when he was younger - it had sounded so mysterious and magical to him back then, something so sought after that people had almost given up the search countless times, finally uncovered. This would go down in history, people had said.

For a while, it had been glorious. The area had been turned into a tourist attraction, a completely new city built from scratch. It was nothing the world had seen before - most places were built on top of centuries and centuries of history - but this was all new. New buildings, new tech, a new area many had believed didn't exist at all.

The Edge had its time. People from all around traveled to see it, and the city thrived. From what Scar had heard, it had been like a city-sized entertainment district. Everything relied on tourism - there was no base society here. It was away from everything, which was why it had been so hard to find in the first place, no one lived here before the artificial city was created.

Eventually the hype wore off, like it always did, with everything. Scar didn't know when it happened - it was a well-kept secret, to not let people know this massive and incredibly expensive project had died down.

Scar had never seen the Edge in its glory, nor did the remains of it do the past justice. 

Things had changed greatly since those golden days. What was once probably considered one of the wonders of the world was now a mere junkyard, a dirty skeleton of what it used to be. 

The job recruitment had been one big lie. Physical work, they had said, at the wonderful Edge. He supposed half of it was true, but the other half was so far from the truth it should cancel the small truth out, in Scar's opinion. 

Conveniently it had been left out that the whole place was basically crumbling down and being used as a trash can for probably the same corporations that had built it in the first place.

You will be offered housing and all the basic things needed for life, they had said, which had probably drawn in most of the people here. What they were actually offered was the bare minimum with no way out - this land belonged to no one, there was no real law here. Trapped at the edge of the world, how dramatic did that sound?

The building Scar and many others lived in was almost shaped like a circle. Whenever he called it one, Cub would correct him and say it had ten sides and that it was called deca-something-Scar-never-remembered, but it was almost like a circle anyway. It was easier to explain that way. 

Each floor was like a circle with a hole in it. There were many floors, Scar didn't exactly know how many, but they formed a tower that was essentially hollow in the middle. Each floor had tens of small living quarters in two rings, inner and outer, windows either facing the outside world or the other apartments.

He didn't know which was better - only having other windows as a view or the dying and trashed city.

Scar's apartment was in the inner ring, and so was Cub's, but Scar didn't really go to his anymore. The sun didn't rise high enough anymore to let in any light to the apartment deep down in the hollow. Some said the sky was coming down, some said the sun was getting as tired as they were. Whatever the actual reason was didn’t really matter - either way, it was depressing.

They had always been told to be back in their own quarters before dark, but no one ever seemed to check. So instead of going back to his own place, Scar was currently in the elevator with a group of other workers, heading up to the higher levels.

It had been a long day, repetitive tasks over and over again, like every day. Lately, he had spent a lot of time stripping valuable metals from old cables, salvaging what could be reused before the junk would get thrown over the edge of the world. It made his hands hurt, the strands of metal poking through his gloves.

His knuckles stung as he knocked on the worn-down door, doing the typical little melody he always did so Cub would know it was him. 

Scar had been lucky to meet Cub - it wasn’t easy to get to know people properly here. People had identification numbers instead of names, chatting during work time wasn’t allowed. After work, most people were too drained to talk anyway.

He had never been particularly good at remembering numbers, barely being able to remember his own. When he couldn’t remember Cub’s number, the other had simply laughed and told Scar his name. Scar had smiled, telling Cub his own name.

A bond had been created. He still didn’t remember Cub’s number.

Sometimes Scar wondered how Cub had ended up here - he was a smart man, way too smart for a place like this. He didn’t seem like he would be after a better chance at life like many others had been. Cub was good at hiding it, but Scar knew how much he hated everything here.

Scar had mixed feelings about all this. At the same time he regretted it, but then again, back when everything had happened, it had been the best shot he had. As much as life here sucked, the lie had been so well crafted Scar couldn’t bring himself to hate himself for falling for it. If he wasn’t here, he could be dead.

“Welcome back,” Cub greeted as the door opened with a creak. He looked more tired every day, the shadows under his eyes growing deeper, the yellowish light making him look even worse. 

Scar basically lived in Cub’s apartment at this point. They were only allowed one key to the apartments, so Scar couldn’t just come and go, but he couldn’t even remember the last night he had spent in his own quarters. They used to spend time at Scar’s too, but then daylight was gone and Cub’s place seemed like the better option.

‘Apartment’ was a generous term for the small room they were provided. They were lucky to have their own bathrooms and small kitchens with the most basic appliances needed for cooking simple meals. 

There was a small table with two chairs near the window, looking over the rows and rows of windows to other apartments. Cub had decorated the dirty walls with articles he had cut out from newspapers and magazines. There were books on the shelves and a small bed tucked into the corner. It was meant for one person only, but they made it work.

It was nice having someone to hold. Cub's hands on Scar's skin, Scar's hands on his, lips against lips. It helped with loneliness.

There were feelings too, they didn't talk about them much, but that didn’t mean they didn’t matter. Little 'I love you's had easily made their way into Scar's routine and Cub had eventually started saying them back. Little sweet moments made their otherwise boring and limited life just a bit more bearable.

Knowing that after a long day, Scar could go home to Cub’s place and fall into his arms made the endless work shifts more tolerable. As much as Scar knew Cub hated being here, he hoped his presence helped Cub too.

On the table by the window was a small cake. Scar blinked a few times, almost like he didn’t believe his eyes. Cub didn’t bake, which meant he must have bought it. “What’s with the cake?” Scar asked, curious. Cub didn’t spend his credits on things like this.

It must have been expensive too - everything that wasn’t strictly necessary was considered a luxury and the prices certainly made sure such things stayed a rare treat. 

Technically they did get paid, realistically the currency was barely worth anything. It could be used to buy basic necessities, but only here. It couldn’t be used to get a ticket off this place, nor would anyone trade it for real money. No one with actual money would do anything with these credits.

“It’s your birthday,” Cub replied. His voice lacked emotion, but Scar knew it wasn’t because of him - Cub was simply exhausted. 

It took a second for the words to register. Scar almost opened his mouth to say ‘no it isn’t, I haven’t even told you my birthday’ before taking a look at the calendar on the wall. Cub crossed off the days on it almost religiously, like he was waiting for something big to happen.

Cub was right, it was his birthday. “How did you know?” 

“The last four digits of everyone’s identification number are their birthday,” Cub answered, and suddenly Scar felt bad. He had never realized that, but now that he thought about it, it made a lot of sense.

Ever since Cub had told Scar his name, Scar had stopped trying to remember his number. Now he wished he would at least have tried to memorize the last digits.

“I didn’t know that,” Scar said almost apologetically. Sharing names had felt like a rebellious step towards freedom, but now he felt like he had messed up. 

He knew Cub already knew this meant Scar didn’t know his birthday - Cub was smart like that, he put things together in ways Scar didn’t even realize to think of. It felt impolite to ask at this point. Had Cub’s birthday already passed?

“Huh?” Cub (or a combined entity that is partly Cub, as it were) is engraving letters on the stone. W-E-L— “Say that again?”

“Do you ever think we are the baddies?” Scar cocks his head and inspects the soft blue dust coating his fingertips. “You wouldn’t think so if you saw us, right? We are friendly and cheerful fellows! We are the—the—we are very approachable. But sometimes I wonder.”

It is a very nice day. Sun shines, but they are in the shade of the cathedral. The chant reaches them even through the thick stone walls; the service for the vex will never cease.

Cub stands up and stretches. "No shot,” he says. The mask grins. “We, bad guys? Us? Jeez, Scar. What has gotten into you?”

He uses his over-dramatic voice. It’s Cub, so the drama is still very subdued, but points for effort. Scar hops down and walks to him. “Sometimes, Cub.” He holds up a finger. “Sometimes a man gets the desire to—to inspect his heart. To take a long, deep look inside himself. You have to admit—take poor Wels here. Perhaps he has a deity he planned to worship, and now it’s for the vex.”

“Now it’s for the vex,” Cub echoes. “Cheers.”

“Or the NHO—”

They both turn to look at another tombstone. Leaning slightly in, they might be mistaken for mourners, if not for the unyielding grins plastered on their faces.

Cub says, “We have done a lot of work.”

“A lot of good work.” It’s true. Scar thinks back to all the lovingly crafted details of the cathedral’s interior. The altar, the vex’s entrance, the trap for those who would aspire to join their denomination. You do not choose the vex. "Does that make us the an— my brain wants to say anthologists, but I know that’s not it. Cub, help me out here!"

"Antagonists."

"Exactly. Is that what we are?"

“Think of it like this,” says Cub. “We are doing them a service. What would this world be without the vex? Stagnant, that’s what. This—” He gestures with his hand to encompass the whole of the towering building. “This is a monument that is dead as soon as it’s done. Our peers create wonders that would stand forever, and for what? For nothing, Scar! Nothing!”

Scar nods along enthusiastically. He is not necessarily as much listening as he is following the note of Cub’s voice.

"They need us," declares Cub. "There is no purpose without chaos."

"We are the chaos," Scar supplies. He thinks of trophies and transformations and destructive industrial accidents, and giggles.

“That we are, that we are." Cub kneels back by the grave and draws the last lines of the name. "I’d say if anything, we are a force for good.”

Scar nods again, satisfied. He licks his fingers. He thinks everything tastes a little different with the mask. A little more like it's melting his tongue and teeth. A little more like chaos.

Cub is done. The chant is getting louder.

Their time is coming to an end. Scar brings both of his hands up and takes hold of the mask, but he hesitates at the last moment. He asks: "Do you think we'll remember anything of this?" 

Cub shrugs.

"I hope we do," Scar says, earnest. "I hope it won't be too long before they call on us again."

"It won't be," Cub says. "They need us, and we need the chaos."

“It was funnier to leave it be a surprise,” Cub snickered, amused by the sight of Scar scrambling away from the attacking mob. Everything seemed to be working well so far, just like he had expected. A little test round was still a good thing to have. “Wouldn’t be as chaotic if you knew what to expect every time.”

“This isn’t a surprise,” Scar yelled in overexaggerated horror as he managed to whack away the bullet with his sword, barely avoiding a potion that smashed into the ground right next to him. “This is a prank, you’re evil! Evil!”

Cub only laughed as he dodged a splash potion himself, waiting for Scar to notice the new shulker bullet that was quickly approaching him from behind. Going through all the trouble to get the shulkers here and in place had definitely been worth it - despite not working on full power for testing purposes, Total Chaos was more chaotic than ever.

“You’ve actually lost your mind!” Scar rambled, still unaware of the looming danger. “Shulkers! Insane! Who even thinks about something like that? There’s not a single crumb of sanity left in you-”

The sentence was cut off by a yelp as the shulker bullet crashed into Scar’s back. He kept shouting as the levitation hit, easily lifting the man off the ground into the air. “Cub!” Scar yelled as he thrashed in the air, trying to find something he could grab onto to stop floating off. “I will kill you myself, you should have told me-, I’m banning you from cuddling for at least a week!”

Still unable to contain his laughter, Cub tried his best to avoid the falling potions and dripstone as he made his way over to where Scar was, hovering maybe six blocks up in the air. Cub could hear him mutter overdramatic curses under his breath as he hit away another sneaky shulker bullet.

A scream rang out in the already loud arena as the levitation effect wore off and suddenly Scar was no longer in the air. He fell with a shriek, hopelessly trying to get into a position that wouldn’t leave him crashing painfully into the ground.

Instead of hitting the ground, Scar fell right into Cub’s arms - just like he had calculated. The man in his arms blinked up at him in confusion for a moment before looking away with a huff.

“Do you always have to be so- Argh, I can’t even be mad at you!” Scar whined, trying to act offended, though it was obvious he appreciated the save. “You’re so evil and then all the sudden you’re so considerate and nice and lovely, and then you’ll probably be evil again later!”

Cub hummed as he stepped to the side to avoid a piece of falling dripstone, pressing a quick kiss to Scar’s lips before setting him down on his feet. “So evil, right?”

“Stop being nice when I’m trying to prove a point!” Scar pouted, doing nothing to hide his flush. He looked like he was having trouble continuing his argument, before a potion exploded right at his feet, making him stumble backward.

“That’s it!” he declared once he managed to reclaim his balance, glaring at the remains of the potion on the ground like it had insulted him personally. “Only an evil and insane person would do-” Scar gestured wildly to everything around them, “-all this!”

“Yeah?” Cub asked, still laughing. “Just wait until I add the tridents.”

The look of pure horror on Scar’s face was priceless.

It wasn't unusual for Cub and Scar to go for long stretches of time without seeing one another. Weeks, months, and (rarely) even years would go by without a word when either of them were caught up with a project. They neither gave nor sought apologizes or explanations. They didn't need to, not with the bond built of vex magic and love that linked their souls. I'll be back, whispered one end of their bond to the other. And you'll be back. I trust you. I love you.

Cub had new ideas for Total Chaos and Scar was working on the next expansion to Scarland, and the only sign they had seen of each other in months was the occasional glimpse of a distant figure flying to or from the shopping district. Nothing out of the ordinary, not for them. So when Cub was overwhelmed by a sudden worry for Scar so strong he almost dropped the potions he was restocking, he didn't quite know what to do with it. He stared dumbly at the bottle in his hand, trying to parse this foreign feeling that snaked through his gut and squeezed the air out of his chest. It was a response, he realized. The worry was a response to the anger and sorrow and loathing that were seeping through his bond with Scar.

While strange, it wasn't a feeling entirely unknown to him. But the last time Scar had felt something so strongly it affected Cub in return, Scar had been in the throes of a death game on another world. But Scar was here. He was fine. He was fine. He was -

Cub shoved the potion bottle into the nearest chest and took off, spamming rocket after rocket to get to Scarland. Scar lay on the ground in front of the unfinished castle, on his back with hands over his face. His knuckles were bloody. Chests and shulker boxes were everywhere, and a few were overturned with their contents scattered over the ground. Jellie was laying next to Scar's head, purring loudly, and it was only her lack of distress that kept Cub from tipping into full-blown panic as he made a rough landing.

"Scar? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked.

"M'fine," came the muffled reply. "What do you need?"

"I was worried about you."

A pause, then Scar moved his hands away from his face to look at Cub. Evidence of tears lingered around his eyes. "You never worry about me," he said slowly. "We don't...we don't worry about each other."

"Yeah." Cub swallowed hard and sat on the ground next to Scar. "Yeah. We don't. So tell me what has you so upset that you - " He looked around and hazarded a guess. " - Punched a wall and kicked over some chests before crying on the ground?"

An accurate guess, if the embarrassed look on Scar's face as he sat up was anything to go by. "It's nothing. I've just been a little stressed, and I let it get to me for a second."

Cub mimicked a buzzer sound. "Try again."

Scar made a face at him, then looked down at Jellie and stroked her head. "I realized I'm terrible at running a business," he said finally.

Cub didn't know what answer he had expected, but it wasn't that. "No you aren't," he said, confusion on his features. "You're a brilliant businessman."

"I'm not," said Scar, voice tight with frustration. "You're a brilliant businessman. I'm just a conman who fooled everyone into thinking he knows what he's doing and leeches off the success of others." He tangled his fingers in his hair and drew his knees up, curling in on himself. "All of my shops are empty, and when they aren't no one buys from them! Scarland hasn't even opened yet and it's a disaster. I can't even build a castle. Everyone can build a castle, Cub! Everyone else does such amazing work, and I put everything I have into it only to wind up with this...this embarrassment."

He waved a hand at the castle, and Cub looked up at it. "I think it looks great so far."

"You don't count," said Scar, then grimaced and put his head in his hands. "Ugh. No. That's not what I - "

"No, no, I get it," said Cub. "I'm your best friend, and I think everything you make looks great. But consider this: have I ever lied to you?"

Scar moved his hands down to give him a look. "Frequently," he said. "Blatantly, to my face, whenever you think it's funny."

Cub laughed. "Okay, fair enough. But you always know when I'm doing it, and you give as good as you get." He nudged Scar's shoulder with his own. "Let me rephrase. Have I ever lied to you about something that really, truly matters to you?"

Scar stared up at the castle-in-progress. "But it's awful," he said. "The angles are wrong, the colors are off, everything about it is – ow!" He rubbed his forehead where Cub had just rapped him hard with a knuckle. "What was that for?"

"Hm? Oh, just using vibrational cleansing to get rid of some negative energies," said Cub in a deadpan tone.

Scar stared at him, then snorted, then giggled, then laughed until he had tears in his eyes again, for a different reason this time. "Oh man. I needed that," he said when he finally composed himself, and leaned against Cub's shoulder with a sigh. "I think I've been putting myself under a lot of pressure."

"You think?" muttered Cub, and Scar pinched his leg. "Diamonds are formed under a lot of pressure," Cub mused, and kissed Scar's hair. "But you're a person, not a lump of carbon. Er, well, I guess you are, technically. Sort of. But too much pressure is still bad, so..." He scratched the back of his head. "Where was I going with this?"

Scar was laughing again, and his end of the bond shimmered with love and comfort and warmth. "I think you were trying to give me some kind of compliment and your nerd brain got in the way," he teased, and threaded his fingers into Cub's. "Thank you for pulling me out of it," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

They were businessmen and bitter rivals and set to devastate one another, and somehow they stumbled on a happy ending. Perhaps that happiness in some small ways made them better—their acquisitions a smidgen less predatory, their commitment to charitable causes a touch more sincere—or perhaps the change in company ways was only due to their divided concentration; either way, in the end they did put in work to build a functional relationship out of the scraps of their misdeeds and confused emotions, and they got it. They retired together. Happily.

This was not an expected outcome.

When a corporate fusion made them co-chief executives, there was not an ounce of goodwill between them. They played out a cordial relationship for the public, because if there was something they were more invested in than their rivalry, it was the company’s financial success, but every talk they ever had turned into an argument and every meeting a battle for control.

Cub thought Scar an inexperienced, arrogant upstart who had survived the sharks by his charisma and by his charisma alone, with no other qualities to recommend him. Scar saw Cub as an old relic too stubborn to quit and too set in his ways to navigate and lead a modern business.

Scar was young for a CEO. Cub had been with the company for a long time. But Scar was sharp and imaginative and Cub was cunning and decisive and more flexible than he was given credit for. By the start of the second year of vying for control, they knew each other quite well. The initial impressions had been misleading. They were both the most valuable assets to the company, and their skills combined they would make the most profitable investments and wrangle any negotiation to victory.

And they were still able to remain cordial only by the skin of their teeth.

Now here comes the part where it gets complicated. Here is where the mundane reality of the story gets twisted, deals are made not in the search of profit but of petty vengeance, lines are crossed, and the happy ending switches from an improbability to a fantasy.

Cub became young.

For simplicity’s sake, let’s chalk it up to magic. Cub became a young man in his early twenties for the sole purpose of ruining Scar’s reputation and career.

Arranged himself a job as a golf caddie, set out to get close to Scar. Win his confidence. Cub knew his rival had no relationship, nor interest in having one, but he was weak to all manner of temptations. He did affairs. Arranging a scandal might not have worked in Cub’s favor—in a more upstanding company the CEO having an affair with an underling might have made waves, but ConCorp was nothing if not practiced in cover-ups—but it was worth a shot nonetheless, and at the very least Cub hoped to get a look at Scar’s private residence and his private thoughts.

In an utterly predictable turn of events that Cub had utterly failed to anticipate, Scar in private turned out to be very different from the callous, nasty, overconfident man of meeting rooms and formal dinners and unnecessary lunch break dips in the office pool just so that he would have an excuse to walk shirtless around the building. When a few weeks into the con Scar began to let his guard down, he was almost sweet. After all the public bravado, there was something endearing in his hesitancy to take advantage of a young employee. He went through with it eventually, of course; he was not a man of good character. However, he made no attempt to discard Cub after.

“It has been years,” he said, eyes soft. “You may not know it, but you own me now, Mr. Fan. Do you believe it? I hope you use your newfound power wisely, and I hope you will stay.” 

He was kind, and he was lonely. And when he believed he had finally found someone who would listen, he talked entirely too much.

Cub got exactly what he had wanted. The young man disappeared without a trace. For weeks, Cub sat on a pile of dirt that, when spread, would make him the sole sovereign of ConCorp. He sat on it and did nothing. In meetings, he could not muster up his usual venom. Scar even asked him, if mockingly, if everything was okay. If his age was catching up to him.

Scar did not expect Cub to notice the forlorn look he had when he thought nobody was watching.

Cub had never intended to let Scar know of the deception. When he revealed it, he justified it by telling himself that this way, he would get to gloat. There was indeed a moment of satisfaction in seeing Scar shatter in front of him: every emotion evident on his pretty face, first incomprehension, then disbelief and shock, then the raw anger that had him punch Cub, whose cruel retaliation was the refusal to fight back; and then last and most overwhelming of all, the hurt.

There was satisfaction. There was also pity, and something else.

Four days later Scar came to Cub’s office. He had not slept. He had neglected his work. “You win,” he said. “I quit.”

Cub was teetering on the edge. His plan had gone down exactly as he had conceived it, if not better, but still he was not happy. He knew why. He was adept at repression, but he could never stand blatant self-deception.

He was teetering on the edge, he was about to fall, and there was only one hand he could grasp to save himself.

He reached inside his desk for a thick stack of papers he had prepared and put them on the table.

“What is this?” Scar asked. He sounded distrustful, but most of all he just looked tired.

“It is me,” said Cub.

“What—?” Scar, almost reluctantly, picked up the stack and flipped through the pages. “Cub, this is—”

“My shares,” Cub said. “A deed to a house on the mountains. Some passwords and other private things. It’s what little I could scrape together.”

“Why?”

Cub shrugged. “I guess you could say you own me. This here is a parting gift, to reflect that unfortunate reality.”

He chuckled. He had destroyed himself, and likely for exactly nothing, but he had not been able to think of anything else he could do. He hoped he had not destroyed the company. Scar turned the papers in his hands, undecided, and at that moment Cub felt he understood him well. If it was him, he was almost sure he would have taken the road of vengeance.

Scar tossed the papers back on the table. “We should go somewhere more private,” he said, as if anyone would dare disturb them in Cub’s office. “We should go discuss the future of the company.”

So. That is what they did. They discussed. They came to an understanding. And there you have it; the most important beats of the story.

This was the turning point. The description of what went down is kept brief by necessity; the actual events did not unfold in this exact neat and straightforward manner. There may have been feelings and desires unadmitted and hidden and pushed down even before any sinister plots were set in motion; and when magic is involved, there is always a price.

But this is the gist of it. Now, to the first step of the happily ever after.  

-

It’s not that there is no attraction. 

Cub is not young anymore, and Scar is—not quite as old as him. A good way past thirty, but he tends to like people who are not quite on his level. Perhaps people he does not need to feel inferior with. Not for anything long term, understand—he is married to the company. Same as Cub.

But it’s not that he is not attracted to Cub—he is—and it is evident that Cub is attracted to him. It is just awkward. It is a complete flip of their previous dynamic; Cub is so painfully courteous and correct and accommodating that it is almost an insult.

So Scar has to do something about it.

They are eating lunch, sitting opposite of each other and discussing a way to go about a new business deal, when Scar puts his fork down and looks Cub straight in the eye.

"So," he says, the tone of his voice light, "you would let me be the one to sign this deal you have worked towards for two years, but you don’t trust me enough to kiss me. What’s up with that?"

Cub almost chokes on his omelet. "That—" He gets a hold of himself, albeit just barely. He manages to respond: "Unprofessional, Scar. Unprofessional. Honestly."

"I see." Scar would be deterred, except it does not escape his attention how Cub’s ears have turned red and a faint blush creeps up from under his collar. "Back to the absolute professionalism our relationship has been all about this far, I see, so that's how you want it?"

Cub stares at him. "I can live with it," he finally says.

Scar leans forward. "Well, I can’t," he says. "See, I have thought long and hard about this, oh, I’ve had a very deep think, Cub, and I demand changes in our arrangement."

Cub is torn between leaning back, because the personal space that he so values is very close to being violated here, and reaching forward because these last few weeks have been an agony. His mind has been a jumble of absolutely scandalous thoughts that, for him, previously have been so rare he has no strategies for how to cope with them. As a compromise, he doesn’t move at all. "What kind of changes?" he asks, all things considered reasonably dignified.

"For one," Scar says, "this." He grabs a hold of Cub’s shirt, pulls him forward and presses his lips on Cub’s mouth.

It is so familiar, yet so strange. First Cub is too stunned to respond properly, and right when he starts getting into it, Scar pulls away. Cub can’t help but to glance around, even though he knows it is just the two of them in the room. His hands rise automatically to fix his tie. He clears his throat.

"That’s—acceptable," he says. "What else?"

Scar is a little bit breathless. His eyes shine the same as his lips, he leans his hands on the table. "Yeah, wow, that went down better than I expected. Wow. So that was the condition, you will need to kiss me. Otherwise I can't see this deal moving forward."

Cub nods.

"That is a yes? Oh, good. I'm glad we are in agreement! The other thing is harder to demonstrate, you will have to excuse me—"

"I’m listening," Cub says. His face is heated, but as he takes a sip of water he feels surprisingly calm. Scar has moved to his sales pitch mode. He used to find it aggravating, but now—

"Tonight," Scar says, "after we have done some of the aforementioned kissing, you and I will retreat to your house, you will get me a drink and then we will get thoroughly acquainted with each other’s bodies. Especially me with yours. It needs to happen."

Cub chews a piece of omelet. He does it mechanically, but then he catches himself and suddenly the movements of his jaw feel all too noticeable. All too unattractive. His hands may be shaking a little. His perfectly cut pants feel too tight. "Those are all your conditions?" he asks.

"Those are the non-negotiable ones. I'm sure there is something I can offer to you in return."

Cub nods. "So, this evening? That’s non-negotiable too?"

"Why, do you have somewhere to be?"

"No, not at all." Cub slides his hand over the table, until his and Scar’s fingers almost touch. "I was just thinking that in the spirit of cooperation, seeing as it's so important to you, I could cancel the next meeting and—"

Scar straightens his back abruptly, and draws away his hand at the same time, right when Cub is about to touch it. "Oh, no, no, no! You heard my terms, Cub!" He grins. "This evening."

Damned sly bastard; and here Cub dared to think his life was about to get easier. "This evening it is," he accepts, even though he knows his productivity for the afternoon is shot to hell. "As for if I have demands, I will have to sleep on it—but for now, we have a deal.”

—

Cub cannot wait.

He is this close—so very close—to taking a break just to rub one out, and that is unheard of for him. He is not even sure if that would help; since even though his pants scuff uncomfortably, the real problem is in his head. He can't get Scar’s eyes and the promise in them off his mind.

Scar comes to his office at sunset. He presses a palm against Cub’s chest and says, "This is it, Cub! This is where you either kiss me or lose the deal," and pretending confidence Cub tilts up Scar’s chin (His skin is soft. His lips are parted. The allure of his looks and his natural charm so entwined that it's impossible to say which part has Cub metaphorically, and soon literally, on his knees.) and kisses him. Cub worries that his beard might scratch, but Scar says nothing of it. His mouth is hungry. He wraps his arms around Cub’s neck. Arousal burns through Cub almost painful and he cannot wait, but he must. Scar has decreed it.

Scar has laid out the choreography for the night, and Cub can do nothing but follow his lead.

They arrive at Cub’s residence, his sanctuary, he tries to remember the last time he had a guest but his memory is gone; all his mental clarity reserved for this current moment. Scar's lips are hot on the line of his jaw and Scar’s hands urge the coat off his back. He pours Scar a drink, both because that is a part of their agreement and because he prides himself at being a good host, and when he turns, Scar has taken off his shirt. He’s lean. This is not the first time Cub sees the contours of his body, but it’s the first with these eyes. He is startled to notice that Scar looks young.

His thoughts stumble. What if he cannot match. He has never felt insecure about his physical features, but then again, he has never paid them much mind. All he knows is that Scar likes vigorous, dark-haired young men. Cub is capable enough, but what if—

This, too, is unlike him. It is lucky that Scar has decided to take charge. All these strange thoughts wash away when he tells Cub to get undressed.

"This is all I have been thinking about today," Scar says as he brushes a hand down Cub’s side, over his hip, over his backside. "Doing this. I want to touch you everywhere, Cub, my hands need to learn."

Scar’s lips make a trail down Cub’s chest and belly. His fingers brush Cub’s cock, it twitches, heavy and hot. Scar makes a sound of wonder and want that makes something inside Cub clench so tight he feels he can’t take it. He cannot wait, but he must.

They kiss. Cub’s hand wanders between Scar’s legs. He strokes. Reverent, he wraps his lips around Scar’s cock, he closes his eyes and sucks like performing an act of worship until Scar, breathless, barely controlled, tells him to stop.

He leans on the sturdy headboard of his bed as Scar pushes inside him slow, slow, it feels like a dream, Scar’s arm around his chest and lips against his ear. Scar says nothing, though, for once he's speechless, only a constant, mhh-mhh-mhh sound of deep satisfaction as he moves.

Or maybe it's Cub making the sound.

It's them both.

Scar pumps his dick, he doesn’t want it to end, he holds on as long as he can but finally there is a wave he cannot stop: It builds in his gut and makes him tremble and moan as he comes, against the dark wood of the headboard. Scar’s arms squeeze around him, Scar buries his head in the crook of Cub’s neck and only the few final thrusts break the languid pace he has kept on for what feels like a whole complete night.

They lay together, looking at each other, sweaty and spent and if there was still doubt left that all of this might be a move in the game, well—

"I thought about it, you know," Scar says, when Cub has almost drifted asleep, "ways to take advantage. Nothing bad! Don’t be alarmed! Just something little, to make a point. I would get you all wound up and then demand a favor. Some token that would mean I get a point. But then—I just—."

"Hmm." Cub brushes a strand of hair off Scar’s forehead. "I thought about that too. Guess I just forgot."

"You forgot?"

"We'll go with that." Cub smiles.