Work Text:
It all started in a desert with lilacs and poppies. The rose that would soon blossom and show its thorns started in Third Life. Scar and Grian knew each other before Third Life even began, but the reality of a death game brought them closer.
The soft touches underneath their covers, the sand that would spread everywhere. It was a happier time, Scar supposed. A time where he didn’t have to worry about the lies and tricks Grian would weave.
It felt like forever ago they were in that desert, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Pledging their loyalty to each other. All for Scar to forget those memories the second he came back to Hermitcraft.
The gaping hole left in his heart confused him dearly. The yearning he felt for Grian’s warmth while Grian actively pushed him away. The distance ever growing, while he could do nothing to stop it.
It wasn’t until Double Life that he finally started to remember the tiniest details. Bubbles the Bee, who Scar had owned much to Grian’s distress. Claiming the bee never died, while simply replacing each dead Bubbles with a new bee.
Pizza the llama that caused many of fights, Grian and Scar desperately looking for it as it was stolen away by Cleo.
He remembered the soft touches that Grian and him shared underneath their covers. The soft kisses that Scar would litter his face with. Yet Grian still searched for connection elsewhere.
It hurt. It truly did hurt. To remember the times they had spent together, while they didn’t consider themselves dating, Scar still felt that Grian would hold some sort of loyalty towards him.
Yet he chose BigB. He wanted to hate BigB, he really did. But he couldn’t blame the guy. It wasn’t his fault that Grian chose him over Scar.
Yet Grian would deny it when plainly told to his face that Scar knew. “I made them.” Scar would mumble as he handed over the cookies to Grian.
“They’re for your secret soulmate.” Scar would add on. It hurt that Grian would deny it rather than tell it straight to his face. It honestly hurt worse than all the deaths he had experienced.
It had hurt even more seeing Grian mourn BigB’s death, ever so wondering if Grian ever mourned his death or ever would. It all shattered the day they both died due to Grian’s need to cause as much chaos as possible.
He didn’t blame Grian for their deaths, but pain still brewed in his heart. He woke up seeing a single poppy growing in his garden. He tore it out.
Grian was a bit confused when a single poppy ended up in front of his base. But he kept it close. Much to the disliking of Scar who wanted to leave them in the past after Double Life, but Grian could never get enough of tormenting him it seemed.
Grian always kept coming back to his side, the little loyal dove that he was.
Never the loyal dove that he had once been. There was a time he wouldn’t dare to raise a sword to Scar’s neck even after a deep betrayal.
Except now he would raise his sword to Scar at any occasion. Limited Life was proof enough to Scar. Proof enough that he would gain Scar’s trust, just to break it down one by one.
First, lowering his brother’s health down for a clean victory to come to Impulse’s name. Second, came stabbing Scar deep into the back leaving him very little room to fight back. Last, letting BigB and Pearl take swings at Cleo, his mother, dragging her down to her death.
All that betrayal just to die from falling rather than Etho’s hand, that Scar so desperately craved for the vengeance that was ripped from him as they learned of Etho’s allegiance to Grian.
Another hermitcraft season passed and this time with another life series that it came with. Grian, no Xelqua, was a watcher. That fact had always loomed in his head. Marytn’s hushed whispers about Grian being different.
He used to believe that Martyn had meant good of those whispers. That they came from words of praise rather than words of warning. He supposed he had realized it too late.
His brief learnings of what Martyn had whispered told him something. The most tastiest of emotions to the watchers were ones of suffering and agony. It had made some sense to Scar, the reasons behind Grian’s actions.
The tight control most seemed to have guiding them. It was all in the need to feed off the pain others had felt.
It made even more sense as his tasks got crueler and crueler. Dragging him away from the closeness of humanity that threw him into isolation.
The lilacs drowning him further and further with their haunting scent. The poppies he had wished he burnt alongside the memories. Both stitched into the fabric of his cloak. Wanting to throw them away yet still hold them close.
Yet near the end, he was more than willing to throw them away. He just never got the chance to as the blood of the flowers was spilt by Gem and her band. Leaving him with no choice but to decide between two groups who both had people to treat him with kindness.
After all, there was no Grian or Cleo for him to run to. There was no Etho to hunt in a fiery rage as he lacked the act of vengeance towards the murderer of his former son.
There was no Grian to mourn, no Grian to comfort, no Grian to worry. He only had Pearl, Bdubs and Scott to lead his decisions. Which made his answer clear as he headed on the path to follow Pearl’s lead.
The one who helped enact his revenge in Double Life was now leading him to an ever painful victory. The former brother he had standing at his side once more, brothers in arms. Scott, the useful ally turned enemy by just one choice and Scar never felt happier with his choice.
The bloodshed grew and grew as people dropped like flies. Unfortunately, most of his team was out before he even had the chance to retaliate. He held his once brother, now dead, in his arms. Almost cradling him as he whispered his final goodbyes. Giving him the respect to be mourned as he did with Cleo, when he slain her body cold.
He fought and fought, even when he felt like his body was going to give out. Pushing aside Pearl’s offer for more hearts. Wanting an equal fight before they went to take down Gem.
He watched carefully, waiting for the perfect moment to join in the fighting as he heard their words of regret. Their words of pain as they fought each other. It brought him back to a different time. A different biome.
“Scar, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” ringing in his ears as he clutched his cloak. The words had sounded so genuine, so meaningful in the desert. The kisses they would share had always felt genuine, never faked.
It felt unreal to think of those moments as anything else than genuine. Grian wasn’t always the monster that Scar had made him out to be. Rather it was the watchers who made him into that monster.
With a quick fishing rod and a bow, he took out Gem to finish the job. Only leaving him and Pearl in this game of cruelty. He fought and he fought before eventually she fell. The lighting echoing in his ear, not even realizing the situation as he went to go hunt her down in the caverns.
He felt a warmth wrap around him before a pair of black wings covered his eyes. “She’s dead, Scar.” A soft mumble fell from behind him and a head rested on his hair. “You won.” The voice finished with a layer of shock and uncertainty to what this would lead to next.
Their destinies once again intertwined as he realized who the voice belonged to. It was Grian. His Grian.