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desertduality · 6 months

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Potential for Scar angst this episode was insane so I wrote this in one sitting. Alternate scene for when Grian finds Scar hiding out in his egg house :)

Here it is on Ao3

———

No one talks about it, but the tasks they’re given tend to mess with their head. There’s— There’s a pull, there, to comply. Scar still remembers the way his tongue had tangled on that first day, the way his throat had closed when he’d even thought about calling someone by their real name. He still remembers the sharp, punishing pain behind his eyes when he’d slipped up and said Mumbo’s.

There’s a sort of urgency, once the task has embedded itself into their minds. Scar feels it, that frenzied energy that sends him knocking down torches until he can finally hit the succeed button without doubt. The secrets pull at them, tug at them. Scar is trying not to compare it to an Evoker’s command, but it’s hard when the feeling is so similar. When trying to fight it now hurts the same as it did back then.

He’s been running for a long time when he finally collapses in Grian’s egg house, panting and sweating. The stupid helmet is still on his head, and every time he raises his hands to take it off there’s that same pain shooting through his head. Joel had told him to take it off, everyone had told him to take it off, so no matter how much he wants to he can’t. He can’t do anything that they want him to do.

None of them will want to ally, after this. He’s burned a lot of bridges, and while he’s not against a little arson now and again, he usually likes to have a choice. He values having a choice very much, ever since he and Cub had broken free all those years ago. He wishes Cub was here, now. It’s a cruel thing to hope for.

There’s a loose feather on the ground beside him, and he picks it up with trembling hands, twirling it between his fingers. It probably fell out when Grian was cleaning his wings. Preening, he’d called it, back in the desert. Scar hadn’t heard of it before. His own wings were the wispy gray of the vex, and even at that a pretty poor specimen. No preening required, and with a bit of magic to keep them hidden, it didn’t matter anyway.

The feather is still in his hand when Grian appears in the doorway, and Scar can only hold his breath.

———————————

Grian… did not do well underground. A creature of the sky scuttling around in caves was bound to come with its issues, and so by the time he gets out, he’s near starvation and has just over seven hearts left to his name. His wings feel grimy with dirt and dust, his legs weak and unable to sprint. His only consolation is that he’d had the good fortune to resurface relatively close to his base, and it’s with an unholy mixture of desperation and relief that he drags himself up the stairs to the egg.

He’s already stuffed about a dozen sweet berries into his mouth before he finally registers that Scar is there. He’s sitting in the corner behind the bed, quiet as anything, and alarm bells start sounding in Grian’s head. Scar usually has a presence that can’t be ignored. He seems almost diminished, now. It makes unease twist in his stomach.

“What are you doing in my house?” Grian asks, baffled.

He rounds the bed, and unease twists into full blown worry when he sees the way Scar is shaking, pupils small and breathing shallow, like he’s been running. He looks— hunted. Scared. Grian suddenly doubts he’s here to steal anything or cause trouble. He’s here hiding.

“Scar?” Grian says tentatively, crouching to eye level. “How are you doing, buddy?”

Scar looks even more panicked, if possible, his mouth opening and closing several times as if unsure what he should say — or what he’s allowed to say. Finally, Scar winces, a frustrated furrow between his eyebrows.

“…Neutral,” Scar says, a tired smile tugging at his mouth, not quite looking at him. “I mean— Good. No. Bad.”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Getting some mixed signals here, Scar.”

Scar sighs, and fidgets with something in his lap. “I’m— All of my allies are mad at me. The whole server is after me,” he says.

“Why?” Grian asks, because usually it takes a little bit longer for Scar to do something bad enough to warrant that type of server-wide behavior. Scar tilts his head forward as he sighs, and Grian realizes something else. “Why do you have a helmet on?”

Scar huffs a laugh that sounds more like a sob, and makes like he’s going to stand up, arms and legs moving in jerky, frantic movements. The feather he’d apparently been holding drifts to the floor, and Grian reaches out to grab Scar’s wrist without thinking.

“Everyone’s so concerned about the helmet,” Scar says, voice strangled and high. “It was an accident.”

“Why don’t you take it off?” Grian asks, genuinely confused, and Scar makes a noise like he’s been hit, dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed, head in his shaking hands.

It’s his task, Grian thinks, dropping Scar’s wrist, brow furrowed. Something to do with his task.

“Never mind,” Grian says, and sits next to him, wings stretching behind them. “It’s fine, Scar, just— Why don’t you just sit down a minute.”

Scar jerks to his feet, stumbling with the force of the movement until he catches himself on the wall, panting. Grian makes a noise in surprise, eyes wide in confusion as he looks at the tense line of Scar’s shoulders.

“I think I feel like standing,” Scar says, hoarse with forced humor.

“…Okay,” Grian says slowly, mind spinning. “You can stand, that’s fine, too.”

Scar sits back down, breathing like he’s run a marathon, annoyance flickering in his eyes like torchlight. Grian just stares.

“Nice bed,” Scar says, like nothing strange has happened. “Very soft.”

“Thanks,” Grian says flatly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Scar just shakes his head and closes his eyes, still breathing much too fast, hands fisted in the blanket they’re sitting on.

“Alright,” Grian says, letting himself relax a little bit, and he lays a hand on Scar’s arm. “Just breathe, Scar. It’s fine.”

A beat passes.

Scar stops breathing.

Grian looks over, questioning, and is met with eyes more panicked than Grian has ever seen before. Scar’s face is pale and his eyes are wide and terrified, a hand now raised up to his throat and starting to claw at the skin there. He is utterly silent, mouth opening and closing as he struggles, and Grian feels his own chest tighten, his own breathing quicken. He reaches for Scar with both hands, grabbing at him desperately as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

“Scar, breathe!” Grian shouts, but Scar only shakes his head violently and grabs right back at him, like he’s searching for support.

His task, what’s his task? Grian dives wildly into his memory for any clues, trying to make sense of the strange behavior from the past few minutes.

All at once, it hits him.

He’d asked Scar to sit, and he had stood. He had told Scar to stand, and he had sat. He had asked Scar to breathe, and he had stopped. It’s almost too obvious, looking back.

“Scar!” Grian shouts, panic forcing his voice louder. He ducks his head to meet Scar’s wet eyes with his own. “Scar, don’t breathe.”

Scar gasps and coughs, collapsing forward into Grian’s shoulder as he takes in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving and stuttering. A low whine of pain builds in Scar’s throat, and Grian just sits there and holds him, one hand on the back of his neck and one on his back. It’s hard to tell which one of them is shaking, but he suspects it’s probably both.

“I’m sorry,” Grian says, quieter now. “I’m sorry, Scar. I didn’t know.”

“…That’s kind of the point,” Scar says roughly, and coughs again. “Secret.”

Grian just sighs, and for a few minutes they sit there and breathe in the waning light.

“They keep telling me to take the helmet off,” Scar says, sounding distant and drained.

Grian feels a stab of sympathy and unwarranted anger. The others didn’t know, either. “Don’t,” Grian says. “Don’t take it off.”

A moment passes, and Scar reaches up with trembling hands to remove the helmet from his head. It makes a dull clanking sound when he drops it to the floor. Grian runs a comforting hand through his sweaty hair, and a bit of weight seems to leave Scar’s shoulders.

Fighting the pull of the tasks is difficult. If Scar had been able to focus enough, maybe he could have fought the impulse to stop breathing. Actively suffocating tended to make concentrating hard, though. He hadn’t had a chance. Not really.

“I’m going to fail this one,” Scar says, resigned.

“Maybe,” Grian allows, and thinks hard about how to word the next thing he wants to say.

“I don’t have any friends,” Grian says eventually, slowly. “I’m in the market.”

There. Nothing that could be construed as a command.

“Oh?” Scar says, muffled into Grian’s shoulder. “Me too.”

Grian hums, wings enclosing around them just a bit more. “How about that,” he says softly.

“How about that,” Scar repeats, tired but lighter.

Outside, the same stars as always hang over them, and they fall asleep without another word.

#secret life smp #secret life #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #my writing #desert duo #please pretend they are not having this heartfelt interaction in a literal egg house /lhj #anyway campaigning for scar centric hurt/comfort

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stiffyck · 11 months

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I've been bothering people with this in dms so much but that's not enough so I'm sharing my insanity here.

Scar who doesn't need physical touch. He's not exactly touch averse (tho you could see it that way), he just. Doesn't need the affection. He likes the occasional hand holding or a quick hug, but he also likes his personal space and freedom. Hugs and cuddles are too warm and too stifling and he needs his freedom for movement.

He's not sad about this. It's not anything tragic or awful. He likes the idea of cuddling and he loves seeing other people hug and cuddle. It's just not for him.

He also doesn't understand touch starvation. He's never experienced it and probably never will.

In 3rd life, in the desert. Grian noticing scar taking a step back when someone is standing too close, shying away from physical contact and never being the one to initiate it. He stops trying to touch scar, only when it's necessary.

He notices how much more comfortable scar looks after he stops giving him so much physical affection. But... this leads to grian maybe becoming a bit touch starved.

Grian telling scar in the desert he feels a bit touch starved and scar asking him what it means. Grian explains.

After that, grian notices scar holds his hands much more often. It's not much but it means the world to him.

Hermitshipping under the cut

Also. Comedic potential.

Let's take redscape for example (or scarian. Works both ways. Just imagine whichever ship you prefer sjcjdksk). Scar and mumbo start dating. But since scar can't really provide all the physical affection mumbo needs, he goes to grian. Mumbo gets cuddles and hugs from his best friend and he gets hand holding and occasional short kisses from his partner. It works for them.

Now imagine tho. The hermits thinking it's mumbo and grian who are dating. They will often see mumbo and grian cuddle or hug or hold hands. A lot of the times scar is even with them, but keeps distance a bit.

Sometimes scar holds mumbos hand, but that's about it.

It's actually scar and mumbo who are dating but they don't know that.

The mumscarian option where they are all dating. Grian and mumbo get the affection they need from each other and scar is happy to just be with them.

Sometimes, when sleeping on the same bed, grian and mumbo will cuddle while Scar just holds one of their hands. Or not even the whole hand, just have their pinkies interwined.

Also scar definitely has a ton of plushies to hug close at night

#stiff talk #gtws #this is literally me djcjdkk #im happy with the minimal touch i get and long hugs or cuddles are not my thing sjgjrjcks #and like im not sad about it. i dont need the contact.#to others this would probably look like i should he touch starved but i genuinely never experienced that djvkdkzmq #so this whole thing with scar not needing as much physical affection is such a weird comfort. even tho i dont need the comfort #its just a very specific fluff thing for me i guess sjvkrkckskf #hermitshipping #grian #mumbo #this is so sweet im giving myself cavities actually #idk if this looks like fluff to anyone else but its fluff for me #self indulgent fluff basically #mumscarian #desert duo #idk man these tags are getting out of control djvkdkskc #no touchy touchy scar

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