#can you tell that I'm obsessed with desert duo yet?

[otherworldlyhope]

like memories of dying days

My piece for Febuwhump Day 7: Suffering in Silence

Aka, 2 times Scar suffers in silence, and 1 time he doesn't

Words: 3,426 CW: injury, life series deaths/injuries

The first night Scar wakes up back in Hermitcraft, he’s in pain. A broken, raw cry of hurt leaves his mouth as he tries to pull himself into a sitting position. He ends up staying down, the searing pain cutting across his whole body leaving him unable to even turn his head, let alone sit.

All he can think about is his final moments in the desert. His friend, the only person he felt he could trust, had beaten him to a bloody pulp in the warm sands. It’s disorienting to think about really. And sure, maybe he purposely missed a few punches, and maybe he let himself trip. But there had been very little hesitation from the avian when killing him. 

He can feel every punch, every kick, and every mark lining his body as he lays pitifully on his bed. Not only can he feel them, he can remember them vividly. The way Grian had broken his ribs, how a well placed kick had sent him slamming against Pizza’s grave (that might have hurt the worst, for multiple reasons), how the avian’s fingers fit so perfectly around his neck. Not to hold him, and pull him closer, but instead to squeeze the life out of him.

Slowly he cracks his eyes open, and he can recognize the room he’s in, and he’s almost disappointed. His room smells of dark oak and roses. It’s a scent he had curated specifically to comfort him when we woke from nightmares. 

It doesn’t comfort him now, but probably because what he’s woken up from is worse than a nightmare in a lot of ways. 

Strangely enough, the only comforting thing in the room is the sand falling from his clothes onto his covers. He used to hate the sand. It would find its way into every single crevice of his clothes and skin. Near the end of it all he almost enjoyed the sand, especially when they finally left the desert to fight the final battle. The sand had been his only reminder of his home. 

The home that he died at. The home where Pizza died, it was only fitting really. 

With ragged and uneven breaths, Scar swings his legs over the edge of the bed, pulling himself into a semblance of a sitting position. Every movement brings intense pain that has him holding back tears. 

He’s barely up when there’s a pounding on his door. Out of pure instinct he pulls his sword from his inventory and points it at the entrance to his bedroom. His hands are shaking with the weight despite the months of wielding it before. He hates it.

“Scar?” He knows that voice, at least he should know it. In another life, well maybe this life. That’s right, he’s on Hermitcraft, this is one of his friends. “Scar, are you in there buddy?”

It takes effort to clear his throat. Even now it feels like there are hands pressing against his airway, keeping him from taking a single breath. 

“Yeah I-” His voice sounds so impossibly weak that it breaks his heart. He has to put so much more effort into putting that chipper attitude back into his tone. Even when he does, it sounds wrong. “I’m in my room Mumbo, come on in!”

Mumbo seems out of breath when he shows up at Scar’s door. His usually impeccable hair is an absolute mess, the lines of his suit wrinkled and off. The man looks at the sword still clutched in Scar’s hand, a flash of nervousness crossing his features. Scar slowly puts it on the bed near him, keeping it within reach just in case. 

You never know when someone could come in and kill you. Better safe than sorry and all that. 

“You look awful Mumbo.” Scar laughs, and it doesn’t sound quite right. He needs to fix that soon. “You slept at all lately?”

Mumbo runs a hand over his face, stopping to pull a stray hair from his mustache down. There’s a disbelief in his eyes that almost cracks Scar up. Almost.

“Where have you been?” You look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up with the sword?” Mumbo asks question after question that Scar can’t even imagine answering. 

Instead he discreetly pulls his hands to his ribs and holds them. The pain lessens some at that, and he’s able to manage his facial expressions much better. Scar gives half answers here and there while trying not to actively yell out in pain. It works quite well actually.

When Grian joins the server, Mumbo leaves him alone. He likes it better that way. All desire to even sit is dashed from his mind. Instead he lays back down, pulling his covers tightly over him. It cradles his broken body, and it’s the only comfort he feels at that moment. And when he falls asleep the nightmares that greet him are almost welcome.

In the weeks that follow he doesn’t tell anyone about that final fight, and neither does Grian. All people know is that Grian won, and Scar didn’t. They don't comment about the fading bruises lining his skin, accompanying his scars.

They don't say anything about how the flowery spread of purple across his throat looks suspiciously like handprints. How they’re just small enough to only belong to a few people, and all the rest were long dead at that point.

Scar doesn’t say a single word about third life, or about the pain he feels every moment of every day. They don't need to know. It’s fine.

~ ~ ~ 

Coming to in Hermitcraft after last life is no less jarring than the first time. This time he wakes up to the moving machinery of the Swaggon, the smell of oil motor oil overwhelming his senses for a few blissful seconds. Then the pain hits, and it hits. 

At least this time it’s pinpointed to a singular spot. The arrow through his heart isn’t nearly as painful as the first time around. It still hurts though, a sharp cutting pain as opposed to the searing, continual pain before. 

When he finally is able to pull his shirt up and see the damage, it looks smaller than he remembered the arrowhead being. There’s a blood red mark that makes Scar light headed every time he comes close to touching it. 

Unlike third life, nobody comes to him when he gets back. It’s almost ironic, he was alone in last life, and he’s now alone on Hermitcraft. It had almost crushed him back then, the isolation. He had tried, desperately, to make friends, but it never worked out for him. In fact it seemed to only make him more enemies in the end.

The worst part of it all was the avian that he considered one of his greatest friends. They had just gotten back to being normal on Hermitcraft when suddenly they were put in another death game.

Grian had avoided him immediately, only talking to him to con him out of a precious life. It made sense, but it hurt in a way that Scar couldn’t describe. Like a hole in his already broken heart. They barely crossed paths during the game, and when they did Grian was unbelievably cruel. 

It wasn’t like Scar was expecting to be allies again or anything, but the cold disdain that Grian showed him was almost too much to bear. He had eventually gotten used to it like he had once gotten used to the sand in his hair. Didn’t mean he viewed it fondly though.

Once again he stays quiet about the pain he went through in last life. When people ask about his death, he simply explains that Ren got him. Even when the pain from the arrow fades and life settles, there's an echo in his heart of what happened. 

Maybe one day he’ll be able to say something to someone, but it’s not any time soon.

~ ~ ~ 

Scar has never been so excited and also terrified in his life. 

He’s excited because he’s always wanted this in a way. Having Grian bound to him like this is a perfect chance to finally understand him. He once thought he knew Grian like the back of his hand. In a world full of sunshine and sand Grian had been his best friend, his partner. The only person he trusted in a place full of paranoia and traitors.

They had been everything. And then nothing. 

The second their hearts were synced, Scar didn’t care much about finding his soulmate. Nobody wanted to be around him in last life, so they didn’t deserve to be around him now. He was sure he wouldn’t be the only one that ended up alone. He had a plan though, the Jellies. They would be his soulmate, they were all he needed.

He knew his soulmate was Grian the second he saw him flinch when Scar accidentally twisted his ankle. In that very moment he decided he wouldn’t even acknowledge it. Grian and the others could think he was stupid all they wanted, he really didn’t care. It’s not like they thought he was the smartest anyways. He didn’t mind it though, it made them much more susceptible to whatever tricks he wanted to pull.

Like always, Grian found a way to ruin Scar’s plans. At one point he used to love it, now he can only force a smile and pretend to ignore the way Grian rolls his eyes at the fakeness of it. It’s getting easier now, to fake being happy around others. Unfortunately, with his heart being perfectly timed with Grian’s, the avian can hear the way it stumbles at every lie. 

Grian himself is still as hard to read as before. Maybe even harder. Scar has seen him with BigB, has noticed the way Grian brushes Scar’s concerns away. His heart is always steady, and Scar can’t discern a single thing from the avian. 

And that’s exactly why he’s terrified. He can’t let Grian know him the way he used to. It just feels wrong.

It’s almost like those old days, but at the same time, it’s completely different. Scar had once been an open book to Grian, now he’s attempting to keep himself as closed off as possible. It’s come with its challenges, but it shouldn’t be for much longer. They’re on red now, and soon the game will be over. 

They’ll go back to Hermitcraft and pretend like nothing’s wrong all over again. They’ll base by each other, play pranks, and refuse to acknowledge the toll these death games have on them just like usual. 

It’s nights like these that Scar wishes he could be in the desert all over again. The velvet keep is cold, colder than the sands ever were. Grian is tucked against the wall, pressed as far away from Scar as he can be on the shared bed. Scar had protested it, but Grian insisted on it for safety. 

It doesn’t make Scar feel any safer.

It’s barely been half an hour since they’ve laid down for the night and Grian is already out. It’s the only time Scar can see a semblance of peace on the avian’s face. His mouth is slightly open, his heart steadily beating in his chest. 

Once he’s sure that Grian is fully asleep, he rises from the bed. The avian barely twitches in his sleep, but Scar can feel how his heart stays at the same pace. He slowly tucks the blanket over Grian’s shoulders and stares down at the small figure barely taking up half of the bed.

He almost wants to climb back into that bed and pull Grian to his chest like he did those cold nights in the desert. Grian would usually complain and whine a bit, but Scar could always tell he appreciated it. After third life he struggled to sleep alone for weeks. Last life knocked that problem right out for him though.

The thought gets him to tear his eyes away from the bed and forces him to step away. Now that Grian is asleep he can finally treat his burns without the avian fussing over him. He’s been pretending to be alright all day, and he knows that Grian saw right through it. Still, he didn’t do anything, and Scar didn’t say a word.

The whole thing had been stupid in the first place. He should have seen the trap coming from a mile away, but he was still a little disoriented from Ren’s attack the night before. At least that’s what he tells himself.

He can still hear Joel’s piercing laughter as there was a shock of white hot pain, and then nothing. Death was never fun in these games, and it was all too familiar to his very first death ever. That had been completely different though, and Scar doesn’t enjoy settling on those thoughts.

Instead he goes to the chests and finds himself all the necessary supplies. After a quick hike up the stairs he finds himself on the rooftop of the keep. His legs dangle over the side as he prepares himself for the absolute agony he’s about to endure. 

Even unbuttoning his shirt has him cringing. The burned skin sticks to the fabric and rips away with every pull of the shirt. Still he has to get it off, and so he pulls it quickly like a bandaid. A raw scream of agony leaves him as he hunches over himself, black spots crowding his vision. 

Void, this is going to hurt so much worse than he was expecting. 

Before he can even think about cleaning the burns, there’s steps on the stairs. Scar summons his sword, unsure who the intruder is. Even though he’s in intense pain, he’s going to fight tooth and nail for his last remaining life.

The second he sees the edge of feathers from around the stairwell the sword disappears. He shamefully turns his head down, making sure his tone is just right.

“Sorry if I woke you up, Grian.” He forces through a tight jaw. “You can go back to sleep, I’m just gonna stay up here for a bit.”

There’s a silence that hikes his shoulders up even more. He wants to believe that Grian’s listened and gone back downstairs, but it's unlikely. He’ll probably lecture Scar for waking him up with pain and Scar will have to pretend like the shadow of pain that Grian is feeling is exactly what’s going on with him.

It’s fine.

“You always do this, you know.” Grian finally says, and Scar waits for the parental tone.

It doesn’t come. Instead Grian settles behind him, holding his hand out for the supplies Scar has clutched in sweaty palms. It takes a moment, but Scar reluctantly passes them to him. He doesn’t respond. There’s honestly no words for him to say.

Grian just continues without a response.

“You don't tell anyone how much it hurts. I always thought that you just had really high pain tolerance, or weren’t that injured, but seeing you today…” Grian’s hands are light on his skin as he pours cold water across the burns. “It made me realize that you are way too good at quietly suffering.”

There’s a sharp burst of pain on his left shoulder that he cringes at, but not a single sound leaves him, as if to back up Grian’s point. 

“I don't try.” Is the only defense Scar can muster. 

“How can you not- okay whatever. Face me real quick-” Scar slowly turns towards Grian and the look of sympathy in his eyes almost floors Scar. He continues with his task as he speaks, not making eye contact. “I always wondered how you got back to normalcy after third life. I mean I was bedridden for weeks after my fall, and that wasn’t even as bad as-”

He stops his rambling as he realizes just where it will lead. Neither of them have mentioned that last fight, and they never will. As Grian moves onto the bandaging he gets quieter, his face drawn in concentration. 

“It hurt a lot actually.” Scar clears his throat, looking off in the distance so he doesn’ have to see how Grian reacts. “Both times. But I just couldn’t let anyone know what happened, it just felt like too much to put on other people’s shoulders.”

“You spoon.” Grian chides, and there’s the parental tone. “We all love you Scar, and we want to know. Mumbo was worried sick for weeks after last life when you wouldn’t leave your house. He thought you hated all of us.”

Scar can’t think of a single thing to say, so he simply shrugs. The immediate hurt makes him regret the decision, and he bites down hard on his cheek to keep himself from reacting. The skin there is completely scarred up by now, destroyed from years of continual use.

“Void at least cry or something Scar.” Grian snaps and it takes Scar back. “I can feel it, and even though it’s lessened it freaking hurts. You’re allowed to be in pain, I’m not going to judge you or anything.”

Once again, Scar just stares at the stars, keeping his mouth shut. 

When the bandaging is done, Grian holds his hand out. Scar stares at it for a moment before grabbing it, the avian’s hand warm on his. He’s hauled to his feet and led down the stairs, Grian’s fingers intertwined with his. 

They settle back onto the bed, but this time Grian doesn’t go to the wall. Instead he stays rather close to Scar, basically in his arms if he were to reach out. He doesn’t. 

Even when his eyes close, his heart stays rapidly fluttering. His eyelids twitch every few seconds and Scar can see words playing on his lips. What is he thinking about?

“I’m sorry.”

Scar blinks once, then twice as he stares at now open, dark eyes. He’s never once heard Grian apologize, except when he was actively killing him all that time ago. It rings in his ears for just a moment.

“What are you sorry about?” He finally asks, his mouth open in surprise.

“I’m sorry for killing you.”

“We already established that the creeper kill wasn’t your-”

“Not that Scar.” Grian groans, an exasperated sigh leaving him. He pulls himself up on the pillow, eye to eye with Scar. “I meant all the other times. The taken lives, everything.”

His breath catches and Scar tilts his head curiously. 

“And I’m sorry for killing you to win.” He says quietly, and the words settle in Scar’s chest heavily. Like a weight on his heart, actively pulling him down. “You deserve so much better than what I’ve given you.”

“I don't think that-” Scar starts.

“I don't care what you think.” Grian says quickly, his voice rising for just a moment. “You deserved better, and you still do. So tell me what I’ve done to hurt you and I’ll apologize for it all, because I can't bear to watch you just hold it all in.”

Scar’s mouth opens and closes multiple times before he settles on a response. 

“I’ve already forgiven you for all of it, Grian.” Scar says, a sad smile on his lips. “It hurt far too much to stay angry, so I just let it all go.”

“I don't deserve that Scar.”

“No you don't.” Scar finally reaches out, an invitation. “But you get it anyways.”

Tears spring in the avian’s eyes as he stares at Scar’s outreached hands. After a few seconds of deliberation he accepts it, pulling himself into Scar’s arms. He’s impossibly warm on Scar’s bandaged skin, and he can feel when the avian sighs.

“Do you feel any better?” He mumbles and Scar has to strain his ears just to hear it.

“Not really.” Scar finally admits, and it feels kind of good to say. “It hurts a lot, but it’s nice not being alone for once.”

“Well next time you get hurt you better come to me.” Grian hums softly. “No more of this quiet pain stuff or I will hunt you down and make you share your feelings.”

Scar laughs quietly, the movement burning across his chest. Finally he lets out a hiss of pain, and Grian frowns. 

“Fine Grian.” Scar reluctantly says. “I’ll go to you then.”

“Good.”

For the first time in a long time when Scar goes to bed in pain, there’s someone else who knows, and someone else who cares. It’s foreign, but it feels strangely good.

[askdacast]

since I started liking/posting stuff related to the funny boomer Minecraft Youtubers playing an improv death game, I'm probably gonna post more opinion or lore posts occasionally when I have time; the Life Series is like one of my pet obsessions I circle back to every time a new season comes up like most people.

(to my friends/other followers who have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sorry)

I don't usually watch the main Hermitcraft/other SMP videos because they aren't my thing compared to the Life Series SMPs, but I do enjoy what the creators put out and they all deserve lots of praise for the hard work they've put in (especially after a lot of unwarranted criticism lately over Secret Life + Hermitcraft Season 9)

and now for a scorching hot take that will disappoint a lot of fans

I really like the Desert Duo...but only platonically, and lemme tell you "platonic" and "Hermitcraft/Life Series fanart" go together about as well as water and oil

I'm already not a fan of shipping in general as a personal taste, but when it comes to shipping real content creators, my discomfort is doubled. If you ship them I'm not gonna hate on you or ask you to stop, you're free to do as you like and I'm not the internet police.

That being said, Grian and Scar are super close friends iRL (if you include Mumbo, I consider them a "DO NOT SEPARATE" trio) and it's honestly really heartwarming to see them in other series just goofing around and even doing RL meet-ups (mostly Grian/Mumbo). To me I've always loved seeing really close friendships like these, and I will try to refrain from snarking about how people on the internet are really bad at distinguishing Philia love (friendship, really deep friendship) from Eros (romantic love).

The point is, I kinda feel uncomfortable when I see shipping of them cuz it feels like willfully misinterpreting the bond of actual real people. I know a lot of people say "separate the CCs from their personas in the series/lore," and I understand why, but the whole practice doesn't sit well with me. It almost feels like instead of creating something actually derivative of the real people, it's like smooching two dolls that just happen to be labelled "Grian" and "Scar". And as a writer myself for other things, I really like to pay respect to the subject matter I'm writing about, and that includes real people. And considering Grian iRL is a straight married man who's said before he doesn't really like the shipping (Scar to my knowledge has not given his opinion on it), it feels even more uncomfy to me when people try to ship him with one of his actual close best friends.

Yes in a way the real people are separate from the personas they put in Hermitcraft or the Life Series. They're like actors, doing it for the job and the sake of us the audience. (Considering I'm a big fan of Vtubers, I'm very acquainted with this paradox) Even still I can't help but always be cognizant of how they're still real people trying to put out their heart and soul to the public, and we enjoy what they do with deep respect for what they're doing. Shipping, especially if they've voiced their disapproval for it (even though they haven't banned it), feels just a tinge not respecting them as actual people, and feels a bit parasocial-y.

But again these are just my personal feelings, this is NOT a hate/call-out post to anyone in the fandom or demanding anyone to stop shipping the hermits. That being said you're likely to not get any out of me for the reasons I've stated above.

and a side note to talk about lore specifically, I just think platonic Desert Duo (for the Life Series specifically) is even more interesting than taking the romantic lens, because we can still have the angst and the doomed narrative and the unsaid trust between Grian and Scar, and still be able to celebrate each of them individually as respective players/creators, without having to make every achievement they make be about 'oooo because fate'

I haven't seen anyone yet posit the theory that (CHARACTER) Grian has distanced himself from (CHARACTER) Scar not because of just trauma but also that Grian thinks Scar is perfectly capable of holding on his own (shenanigans and carelessness aside). Like he's known Scar long enough to trust that he can survive on his own, and thinks that they should try to not hold each other back, and depending on who you ask this was either a really good or REALLY REALLY BAD CALL in Secret Life (because Scar did win on his own merits, but was left all alone)

[violent-backed-starling]

Gemini mind (by Piper Toohey) AU <3

(Can you tell that I’m obsessed with their music yet?)

So I'm thinking Desert Duo AU where they both survive at the end of 3rd Life and Scar tries to spend that time to get to know Grian better and he learns more about his past in YHS.