#the crafting dead scar

[morickkk]

TCD!Scar,,,,,

Bonus :

#silly man #the artstyle chanhe is wild /pos #forgot what the ep on bonus sorry :( #goodtimeswithscar #thecraftingdead #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #tcd #gtws tcd #goodtimeswithscar fanart #gtws #gtws fanart #morarts

[aresonist]

tee see dee scar ? the eepo ? lady gagita

winter

#my art #mcyt #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #tcd scar #tcd #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar

[tibby-art]

GTWScartober Day 5 - Zombie

TCD Scar, of course <3

#the crafting dead scar #tcd scar #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscartober2023 #gtwscartober #mcyt

[dailytcdscar]

4

#its technically post tcd but it still counts #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #tcd #tcd scar #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #art #cubfan135 #cubfan #mcyt

[chemdisaster]

short fic about last life scar and tcd scar meeting because i'm kind of insane about the idea

"So what's your deal?"

The grimy and unkempt young man in front of him straightens up from where he was going through his chests—which Scar is very cheesed off about, by the way—and stares at him, but gives no other indication that he heard the question. 

Scar shrugs and sits down on a barrel already previously subjected to the Great Rummage, slightly kicking his feet. 

"I mean. You show up here and immediately try to kill me, then you figure out that I'm not a zombie—duh—and now you're trying to steal my diamonds, which I've already told you you can't have. So yeah. Little confused over here."

Silence. 

"You know, I'm starting to think you might be a zombie, with how much you suck at making any sound other than grrr and uggg."

More silence. Then—

"I'm not looking for diamonds. I need a gun."

The word diamonds is spat with such derision that it makes Scar teeter between affront and awe—does he not know what diamonds are? That must be the only possible explanation, for Scar cannot imagine someone understanding the full power of the shiny rocks and choosing not to seek them out—especially in a place like this.  

"I don't—I don't have a gun," he stammers, wondering not for the first time what this strange man is on about. That he can understand at least—he maybe wouldn't mind a gun himself, if he's being honest—but everything else about the whole situation eludes him. 

"Well, what do you have then? Ammo, food, maybe a med pack?" 

"Uh, I have chicken," Scar says and flinches as the other crosses the room in three big steps to stand in front of him, holding an arm out expectantly. Sighing, he reluctantly forks over half his chicken—actually half, because this guy looks like he needs it and also he's not sure if he would get slaughtered for trying to swindle someone with this amount of obvious murderous urges—and watches as at least a quarter of what he gave away is immediately gulped down. 

"Wow."

Weird-and-apparently-starved guy wipes his mouth on his sleeve, "Fuck you."

Oh-kay. So he can swear. 

In the ensuing lull of silence, Scar takes a moment to discretely look the intruder over again, as well as make note of his voice. Somehow gritty, yet rather high, it sounds weirdly similar to his own—in fact, the owner of it looks weirdly similar to him—that is, if you ignore the short, tangled hair and general lack of personal hygiene.

What he mistook earlier for an inability to sit still turns out to be paranoia, as, the moment he's done eating his food, his beyond-bizarre doppelgänger proceeds to circle his hut at least three times, checking every entrance and exit and eventually blocking them all off with a single chest-level block. 

Apparently even that odd practice leaves him unsatisfied, however, as he then swivels around and demands, "Is this place safe?"

"Uh, depends. Mobs don't come here often and my friends aren't dangerous—most of the time," Scar amends. Then hastens to add, "Usually." Pause. "Sometimes. I'm really not sure. It—fluctuates."

He knows what he sounds like, but the man's seen worse—clearly—so he doesn't call his words into question.

Suddenly Scar is struck with a thought—does—does this guy have friends? 

He doesn't ask him this, however, and instead decides on a more neutral approach, "What's your name?"

The guy gives him a long suspicious look.

"Scar."

Scar blinks. 

"No, my name is Scar."

"Well, pick another one, then," this new—this Scar says, but it's the least threatening thing he's said so far, judging by the slightly lighter tone of his voice. Scar—the real Scar, and doesn't that sound crazy?—does wonder whether his doppelgänger-twin-alternate self?-whatever is coming to the same conclusions as him—but if he is, either he's not bothered, or he's very good at hiding it. 

His own lack of surprise surrounding the revelation that this is him from some kind of parallel universe makes him wonder less. Maybe because he's a wizard, and therefore supposed to be used to all kinds of strange phenomenons. 

Maybe he's just tired. 

Other him swings his arms around for a bit and then slides down to sit on the floor with his back rested against the wall, all his previous energy gone so fast that it would make one wonder whether it had ever been real in the first place. 

"It's cold up here," he says, with the air of someone long used to the chilly weather—or his own helplessness against it. 

After a moment's hesitation, Scar joins him on the floor, making sure that their arms are a sufficient distance apart. 

"You have an issue with the cold?"

"No. Just would've thought that maybe in another life I'd have settled somewhere else. Somewhere warmer."

A pang of pain shoots through Scar's chest. He looks away. He was about to ask this him where he was from, but now he's not so sure he wants to—he'd rather not have those same questions be directed back at him. 

He wonders what Grian would say. If he could see this other version of him that's clearly suffered more than the both of them combined. What kind of joke he would make. If he would have anything to say at all, or if he would go straight for his sword. 

If he would hesitate before deciding which one of them to use it on.

 

"Your friends try to kill you?"

Evidently, the other him has no compunction when it comes to bringing up things Scar would rather not think about—

"Yeah, well, they're not—they're not really my friends," he admits, suddenly feeling very small. "I just said that to look cool. And also because they were, or at least I think they were, but lately we haven't been talking and they only ever come 'round here for resources, so—"

He shuts up. 

Other him hums, but thankfully has no interest in digging further. The wind makes a searing noise as it rushes in and out of his hut, past the one-block barricades, and Scar wonders once again what the point of making such a stupid defence even was. He doesn't ask, however, even though he probably should, to get back at this prick for reminding him of things he spends the whole day thinking about, anyway—

A long while passes before he opens his mouth again. 

"I miss them." 

"At least you have someone to miss."

The muttered remark should sound accusatory, but it's not. It's bitter, the kind of bitter that comes with understanding exactly what kind of feeling you are talking about. The kind of bitter that says I've been where you are and I've been worse and I'm glad you don't know what that worse is like. It's one short sentence, and yet it speaks volumes as to what must have happened in that weird place that had zombies and guns but not diamonds and was as cold as a lonely hut atop an equally lonely mountain. 

Scar is well aware that this weird other version of him could kill him in the blink of an eye. But he sighs and leans into him, accepts the warmth of physical contact and the emotional warmth that neither of them will ever admit to needing. 

#gtws #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #gtws angst #worddisaster #tcd scar #gtws tcd #the crafting dead scar #last life scar my beloved #last life scar #last life gtws #ll scar #last life #last life smp #llsmp #trafficfic

[stiffyck]

i am ill

#guys help #the tcd propaganda got me #the crafting dead scar #the crafting dead #tcd scar #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #blood #idk what else to tag this #ask to tag #my art

[masterattendanthuang]

patawad. paalam

[translation: im sorry. goodbye]

listened to some songs from my childhood that i used to listen to all the time. basically wanted to make something sad and nostalgic through tcd

#the crafting dead scar #the crafting dead #tcd scar #hermitblr #goodtimeswithscarfanart #goodtimeswithscar fanart #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #convex #cubfan135 fanart #cubfan135 #if it in some way feels familiar thats the feeling i was going for with these #anyways convex posting whos surprised really

[12davs21]

yes let's throw this child into the horrors

#the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #tcd #tcd scar #gtws #goodtimeswithscar fanart #davsart

[brandyy0moss]

Aggie.io doodles with @cripplecrappleee on Instagram

Also I blame @stiffyck for getting me stuck in the tcd Scar wave- help

#fanart #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #mumbo jumbo #tcd #the crafting dead scar #I blame stiffyck for this #cubfan135 #iskall85 #grian #my art

[aylim23]

Take this doodle of tcd Scar before I'll disappear again for weeks 😋

#gtws fanart #goodtimeswithscar #goodtimeswitgscar fanart #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #gtws tcd #tcd fanart #fanart #my art #doodle #mcyt #mcyt fanart #:3333333

[crypt1d-cr0ow]

more TCD!Scar

[reblogs are appreciated !!]

#tcd #tcd scar #gtws tcd #gtwscar fanart #gtws fanart #gtws #gtwscar #tcd gtws #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #goodtimeswithscar #goodtimeswithscar fanart #crow's art

[stargazostli]

Random TCD Scars bc i was doodling while watching lol

#tcd gtws #gtws tcd #tcd #gtws #goodtimewithscar fanart #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #gtwscar fanart #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #traditional art #sketches #my art

[aresonist]

#gtws #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #tcd #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #tcd scar #my art #mcyt

[echoedchamber]

the crafting dead scar sweep

#goodtimeswithscar #gtws fanart #tcd scar #the crafting dead scar #mcyt fanart #echoart

[dailytcdscar]

7

#goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #tcd #tcd scar #the crafting dead #the crafting dead scar #art #mcyt

[chemdisaster]

a fanfic about post-tcd scar, how he deals with the life series and how he heals

ao3

.

Scar eventually gets used to the zombies. Sure, at first it's awful, with him having panic attacks every time he so much as thinks of a zombie and murdering them violently every time he comes across them. But by around Season 6 of Hermitcraft, he's mostly fine with them, only occasionally flinching or feeling the familiar seize of panic when he's had a bad day or if he sees them in certain lighting.

The loneliness, though...that stays. The horrible isolation, the constantly being alone with nothing but the sound of groans and gunfire and your own thoughts. It made him go mad to the point of suicide when he was back there and it made him touch starved and petrified of being alone after he escaped. No zombie bite or broken leg can ever compare to the absolute agony of being truly alone, of silence.

He's afraid of being alone so he makes sure to surround himself with people. He's afraid of silence so he turns his first diamonds into jukeboxes and talks to himself whenever there's no one around to fill the air with noise. It takes him months to be comfortable sleeping alone and years before he can base somewhere where there isn't someone else's build within viewing distance. He makes a habit of leaving something small to make noise wherever he sleeps, be it a dripping tap or a ticking clock or the barely noticeable buzz of redstone. It gets easier when he finds Jellie in season 6 but he still feels the tendrils of loneliness begin to squeeze and cut his heart whenever he goes more than a day without seeing anyone. 

So when Last Life happens...it's like being back there again. And he tries his best to combat it like he always does in Hermitcraft, but it never works and they always leave him to suffer on his mountain. Alone. In silence. And he cannot handle it. And it makes him go mad just like it did the first time, makes him suicidal which shows as he becomes more and more reckless with his lives, eventually outright threatening to kill himself if they don't give his enchanter, the only thing that will push the loneliness away, back. Because he'd rather die than be alone. But here in this treacherous world, even death isn't enough.

He never quite recovers after Last Life, but meeting his friends again without the haze of bloodlust, hearing them apologise for the way things ended up there...it helps, somewhat. He learns to push away the loneliness lest it consume him during the day and he learns to hide the nightmares and panic attacks and helpless crying at night. It gets easier eventually and he thinks he might be healing.

Then Double Life rolls around and, well. He never thought it was possible to be surrounded by people in the closest way, yet still feel as miserable and alone as he was back there. He never thought being unwanted would hurt as much as never having anyone to want him in the first place. When he and Grian are running to the edge of the world and desperately gripping each other's hands, the only ones wholly untainted by the bloodlust, the only green names, it almost feels like being hunted again, like being the only human in a world inhabited by the undead. 

He falls into the zombie pit and screams as they claw at his body and tear it apart bit by bit and thinks oh no why didn't I bring my rifle why didn't I stock up on morphine why is this happening why why why and screams as he wakes up in Pearl's base. He has his worst panic attack in years there and pretends the Divorce Quartet didn't hear him screaming when he emerges and pretends that his body isn't shaking and his face isn't streaked with tears when he reaches his site of death. He doesn't look in the pit until all the zombies have been eradicated and feels a vindictive pleasure when Grian smashes the spawner into a million tiny pieces. 

It's almost a relief when he gets blown up not long after. Because if he's feeling the phantom pain of being burnt and torn apart limb from limb in seconds then he can't feel slimy skin and claws, and if his ears are ringing from explosives then they can't hear growls and gurgles and his own screaming. It's less of a relief when he dies again, because he dies alone and in complete silence, a silence that he can still hear when he respawns in his tree, his tree that hasn't been lived in in weeks, that now bears the echoes of grunts and screams in its roots.

Scar loses it after that. He doesn't get out of bed for nearly two weeks, shivering under his blankets as his mind tortures him by replaying every awful moment on repeat. He has nightmares and wakes up and still sees the nightmare on the back of his eyelids every time he closes his eyes. He's alone and the lowest he's ever been and he needs to do something, needs to talk to someone, to hear and see, but he can't get out of bed because he's terrified of what will happen to him outside of it if this is what is happening right now.

Cub comes over within a few days of Scar being back and tries to help, but despite knowing Scar's history, he understands that whatever set him back happened in the death games, and that he can't truly help him if he doesn't know what broke him. So he calls Grian. And Grian, despite dealing with his own guilt over their death and having treated Scar the way he did the entire game, despite thinking that Scar doesn't want to talk to him after he didn't respond to any of Grian's messages, still comes running as soon as Cub tells him that something's wrong with Scar. 

He finds Scar curled up in bed and rubs his upper arm and feels the way Scar's entire body stiffens under his touch. He calls Scar's name and Scar presses Grian's hand against his cheek and breaks. And Grian asks what's wrong, but Scar just pulls him down to the bed and wraps his entire body around him and sobs into his ear, "Just speak. Please. Don't leave me alone." 

And Grian speaks, about everything and nothing, about his base plans and his own past and how fucking guilty he feels for everything he's done to Scar in every one of these games. 

And Scar tells him, in between shaky inhales and broken weeping, what happened to him all those years ago and how he never recovered and how he's most afraid of being left alone and please Grian never leave me alone. And Grian squeezes Scar until he's touching almost every part of his body and whispers into his ear, "I'm never leaving you alone, Scar. Never again." 

And Scar remembers how Cub held him the same way when he found out, how he uttered those same words, how he swore on the vex that they were true.

And Scar starts to believe them.

.

@stiffyck

#gtws #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #the crafting dead scar #tw suicide #worddisaster #trafficfic