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massivewaffle · 2 years

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One Way to Defeat A Wither (Chapter 1)

Paring: GoodTimesWithScar x Female Reader Word Count: 4718 Rating: Chapter 1 is PG. Chapter 2 is EXPLICIT Warnings: Nothing for this chapter aside from Minecraft in game death mechanics. Chapter two will have explicit smut, so be advised if you follow the story.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39187023

Summary: When Grian jokingly unleashes the forces of the Scar Wither upon spawn, no one bats an eye. That is until GoodTimesWithScar suddenly becomes a very, very Bad Scar indeed.

AKA “The one where Scar gets possessed by a Wither and fucks reader”

A/N: This fic will be 2 chapters. This chapter (Chapter 1) is purely flirting and set up. All smut will be contained within Chapter 2, which I hope to have out by the end of the week if everything goes well.

The beginning of a new Hermitcraft seed is to you what Christmas Day is to others. There are always some residual feelings of melancholy when it comes to leaving the old world behind and, with it, all the beautiful things the Hermits have created. That being said, memories live on, and as you age, you realize how important it is to reset yourself both physically and mentally once in a while. You can only grow if you keep pushing yourself to try new things, and everything you’ve learned in your first season on the server makes you ten times more determined to improve all of your builds for your second.

The start of a new seed also brings the promise of change, and it is so rare for all the Hermitcraft members to be on equal ground. Elytra's are the first sign of the shift, so these early days of resource gathering feel special and warm in your heart. As usual, Joe is at spawn, collecting materials for Hermits Helping Hermits as the chaos reigns around him.

You’re not entirely sure where you want to build your starter home yet, content to wander around the general spawn area to gauge what others are doing and whose bases are already growing exponentially. These Hermit’s do not mess around.

Wandering up to the space Joe has dictated for material collection, you drop off a few stone swords and pickaxes to donate to the cause. You metaphorically struck gold earlier with not one but two iron veins on your first resource run, so you’re already decked out in full iron. Your items barely make it into the shared double chest before Scar barrels up, muttering to himself. While Scar is clumsy and death prone on the best day, today seems to be his absolute nightmare. Everyone’s communicator goes crazy with notifications on day one because of all the advancements, but Scar’s consistent death messages seem to be taking up a distressing amount of space. Respawning hurts. It’s not the worst pain you've ever experienced, but it’s not something you adjust to easily.

Scar strides up to yourself and Joe, a jovial look on his face despite the pain you know he’s holding back. Though he’s hiding the pain, you can see him wince just a bit as he steps toward you and Joe.

“Hey there, Scar! Take whatever you need!” Joe says. You know Joe well enough to deduce he purposefully doesn’t inquire immediately regarding the mass amount of death messages in the chat.

“Thank you, Joe! I might sell you out, though; this hasn’t been the best day for me resource-wise.” Scar admits, opening the shared chest and equipping some of the stone tools you had dropped off minutes before.

“Yeah, so I noticed. You doing okay, buddy? Can I assist with anything?” Joe asks with genuine kindness.

“Aw shucks, thank you, Joe, but I’m alright. It’s mostly been a combination of my own clumsiness and Mumbo and Grian knocking me into the “Boatem Hole 2.0.”

You chuckle, catching Scar’s eye in the process.

You’ve always found yourself inherently drawn to Scar; his personality and sense of humor spills from every pore. You find yourself attracted to his specific brand of genuine kindness and dedication to his craft. Those traits, paired with the glint of mischief behind his eyes, lead you to believe there are so many things about Scar you’ve yet to discover. Scar is attractive, there’s no denying that, and you find something about his smirky, knowing eyes and smile that is undeniably sexy. It’s a pretty open secret that you’re interested in him, you’ve never said anything about it explicitly, but you do see the knowing looks that others give you when you chat with Scar.

Ever since you first arrived in Hermitcraft, you’ve never heard about Scar openly dating. You’re not even sure what his orientation is, but he flirts back with you often enough to indicate he’s at least a bit interested. That said, you’d never make a move or be too bold with him. Typically, you’re one of the most social server members, but you have to draw a personal boundary somewhere. There’s too much to lose this early in your Hermitcraft career if outing your crush leads to being alienated. If he’s interested, he can reach out; otherwise, you’re satisfied with this current relationship.

“Well, if you’re looking for a bodyguard, I’m available.” You offer. You love Mumbo and Grian dearly, but there’s nothing more fun than a taste of revenge.

“Why, that would be ah-may-zin! Those two hooligans won’t know what hit them if they come at me again!” Scar exclaims, ending his statement with a wink.

“I need to scope out base locations anyway, so this works for both of us,” you admit digging through your inventory and equipping your sword to your back.

Joe hands Scar a few cooked pork chops with a knowing smile.

“Just in case you need them. Try not to get tossed in any more holes.”

“Believe me; I’m steering clear of holes for a while! Unless, of course, I get lucky.”

Joe chokes on a cough upon Scar’s words, and Scar’s eyes widen as he processes his statement.

“FOR A BASE. IF I FIND A HOLE FOR MINING!” Scar clarifies, stuttering as he waves his hands back and forth, hoping to magic himself away from his self-caused awkwardness.

Joe’s eyes shift to you, sending you the same look all the Hermits give when you find yourself partnered with Scar. You roll your eyes in response and wave goodbye as you follow a flushed Scar further into the woods behind spawn.

“Everyone knows how my season has been so far; what’s going on with you?” Scar asks, walking a few steps ahead. Scar remains keenly aware of the world around him despite his devil-may-care nature, navigating over root-filled terrain and holding back branches for you to step around unharmed.

“Not too bad,” you admit, slowing your steps to allow him to catch up to your pace. “Went out exploring for a bit, got a solid amount of materials, but that’s about it. I scouted around with Peal and Gem for an hour or two, but I’m not really feeling the birch vibe this season, so I’m still looking for a place to call home.”

“Ah yes. The first-day location struggles; I can relate. I’m building near Grian, just behind that little river, but I’m already contemplating my megabase spot.”

“Of course you are.”

“Oh? And what is THAT supposed to mean? Hmm?”

“Sorry, mister ‘non-stop grind,’ I know how you operate! If we’d allow you to pick a location on the first day, you’ll have your megabase half-built within a week.” You retort, smirking. Scar blushes, rolling his eyes as he shifts his gaze from you.

“...well, that may be true. I don’t have a way to defend myself against that argument!” Scar admits, chuckling to himself. “You know me too well, hotshot; I can’t deny it!”

As you reach a small clearing, you can make out the silhouettes of Mumbo Jumbo and Grian in the distance. Scar goes running to scream at them, as is his way, but you grab at his sleeve, pulling him back to a secluded spot under a large tree. Scar stumbles as you pull him, losing his footing and tripping on an exposed tree root. Careening forward, he puts his hands up to catch himself. While safe and sound, his hands land on the tree behind you, effectively pinning you against it with a hand on either side of your head. Scar surrounds you, so close you can smell the woody scent radiating from his long, shiny elven locks. Scar stares down at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. From those green eyes to his all-knowing smirk, he's so incredibly handsome, his looks only enhanced by the scars littering his face, hinting at his life story. He leans in and you clench, overwhelmed by all of him surrounding you. His face passes, cheekbone grazing yours as his gloriously smooth voice purrs into your ear.

“Wanna play a prank?”

The nerves surging through you expel with a nervous giggle. Of course pranks would be at the forefront of Scar’s brain.

“When have I ever turned down the option to prank?” You ask, keenly aware that Scar’s mouth is within inches of your ear, your neck; all the places you’ve dreamed of Scar trailing over with those honeyed lips.

Scar smiles a wide-tooth grin that occupies half his face as he pulls away, making sure he’s firmly planted on the ground before speaking.

“See, that’s why I adore you. You always have your priorities straight!” Scar jokes, turning his back to you and squatting down to peer over at your fellow Hermits across the clearing. Your face blushes at his words, but you shake his kindness off as you lower to your knees to crawl next to him.

“I’m thinking arrows. A surprise attack; Hawkeye style!” You offer, knowing how much Scar loves summoning his inner Hawkeye.

“I’ll go chat to them, and if they start getting that feral look in their eyes, you pepper them with arrows since you’re the bow god around here. They won’t know what him ‘’em!”

Scar seems dedicated to keeping the blush on your face, but you can’t give yourself away.

“Bow God is ready for action!” You proclaim with a wink, digging through your inventory to switch from your sword to bow and arrow. Scar rifles through his own, dropping a few extra arrows for you before army-crawling away to a small path, making it look as though he was following the boys the entire time.

As Scar steps into the light and heads toward Grian and Mumbo, you shift into position, rolling your shoulders a few times to loosen up before lining yourself up for a shot. Mumbo and Grian seem to be chatting with Scar, who deliberately stands at the edge of a cavern. Scar’s more self-aware than he seems, knowing Grian can never turn down the urge to shove Scar directly into danger. The moment Grian lifts his hand, you know he's planning to slap Scar off the edge. Your first arrow flies straight into his shoulder within the blink of an eye, shocking him but not resulting in death.

“What the…” Grian yells, jumping back and wincing from the pain.

“Was that a skeleton?” Mambo asks, hair flopping as he flails side to side, looking for the offender.

“It’s broad daylight, Mumbo!” Grian fires back with annoyance.

“Well, I don’t know! What am I supposed to think?!” Mumbo retorts, snapping back at Grian.

In the time it takes for Mumbo and Grian to snip at one another, you’ve managed to shift from your crouched position and traverse through the woods to shoot at Mumbo from a new angle. In all the confusion, neither Grian nor Mumbo notice Scar step away from the cavern and back into the woods, shooting an arrow past Grian to confuse him.

At this point, Mumbo and Grian have panicked, running in circles and dodging arrows. You look across the clearing and catch Scar’s gaze, smiling widely and gesturing with your arms to direct his arrows to the cavern opening where he was previously standing. Mumbo and Grian have backtracked to the cavern's edge without realizing it. Two well-shot arrows later spook them enough to trip over one another in their haste, tumbling down the hole. According to your communicator notifications, both die from the fall, which means you and Scar have gotten away scot-free.

The moment the deaths populate in chat, you dart from your covered nest, sprinting toward the cavern and, more importantly, their dropped inventories.

“Holy moly, that worked even more perfectly than I planned!” Scar exclaims, gabbing your hand as you descend the stone. “They were so lost it was incredible! Let’s scoop up all the good stuff!”

Scar releases your hand as he crouches to pick up one of their discarded iron pickaxes and immediately tucks it into his inventory.

“I’ll take it and drop it off at your base,” you say, bending down to compare the swords the guys have left behind. “They’ll assume you’ll have it all, so I’ll grab the good stuff and stash it in a chest, so it looks like yours.”

“Keep some for yourself too! And a few things to make them think the rest got destroyed in the fall.”

“Good call!” You reach into your inventory and pull out a bucket of lava you hung onto just in case. Tipping it down the cavern, you watch with a smirk as it burns up a few of the garbage items and flows down one side.

“Believability.” You say, turning to make your way to climb back up the stone walls.

“Genius!”

Scar’s lankiness allows him to reach the top before you. He grabs your hand again once he’s safely out, helping to pull you from the hole with one arm, the other typing into his communicator.

Grian and Mumbo are screaming in the chat, and Scar casually mentions it was indeed a skeleton but don’t worry, Hawkeye took care of the threat. He asks if they would like him to collect what items he can, smiling at his ingenuity.

Grian mentions he and Mumbo are on their way back, and you wave goodbye to Scar as you duck back into the woods and make your escape. Climbing a few branches up from your original hiding place, you watch with amusement, forcing your hand in front of your mouth to contain your giggles as Mumbo and Grian return in a fury. Scar makes himself out to be the hero of the village, regaling them with the tale of mighty Hawkeye taking down a ferocious beast. As he distributes what little of their items he could salvage, you slide your communicator out and send Scar a private message.

“Nice acting. I’ll leave everything in a chest under your starter tree, dig down one block, and you’ll find it x”

You wait for a moment, hidden in your tree-dwelling, as you watch Scar receive the message. He fishes his communicator from his pocket, smirking while Grian and Mumbo argue as they head to salvage their remaining items. Your cheeks burn as you see him smile at your message, glancing up to the trees to see if you’re still there. He types something before shoving it back into his pocket and turning to the cavern, yelling as Mumbo inquires if the lava had been there the whole time. Your communicator vibrates in your hand, and you open the message as fast as possible.

“I’ll expect my Oscar by midnight; I’ll stop by to pick it up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, your back is sore, fingers lightly blistered, and you can feel the effects of a bit too much sun on your shoulders. The sun is fading fast around the starter village, and most of your fellow Hermits have begun packing up their supplies for the night, content to mill around the spawn area for a chat. Although you have so much more to finish, you decide to join them, tossing your extra items into your starter base's mini-chest monster that has begun to populate the area. You’ve chosen to build further into the woods than most, a quick walk to many of the Hermit’s starter bases but far enough to get peace and quiet when the building inevitably starts with the morning sun.

Stepping inside your very humble starter abode, it seems fitting to finally discard the clothes you’ve toiled in all day in exchange for some clean ones. Tossing your soiled garments into a chest in the corner, you leave them to be dealt with tomorrow when you have the energy. Quickly you freshen up, wiping the residual sweat and dirt from your face and arms, and toss on a pair of comfortable pants and an old tank top to relax in. Although the sun is receding, it’s still a warm day, and the last thing you want right now is to continue sweating in the same outfit you’ve spent all day wearing while building.

Content with the new feeling of cleanliness, you head out, following the loud laughter and trails of smoke that lead to where your fellow Hermits have set up for the evening.

Welcoming cries ring out as you approach, waving excitedly to the rest of the group.

“There you are! We were wondering if you were going to join us tonight. What’s happenin’, baby?” Ren asks, tossing another log onto the campfire as you find yourself claiming an empty log bench.

“Not much! I wanted to take a few minutes to get organized before I headed over to mock all your bases.” You joke.

“Wow. Woooooow. Here we are aiming for friendship, and you have to shame us. And to think I have all these Giga Pies I was going to offer you….” Cub trails off, doing his best to cover the delight in his voice with authenticity.

“Cub, where’s your house?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

“...okay, so I technically live in Ren’s basement, but-”

“I REST MY CASE!” You exclaim to a chorus of laughter.

Cub rolls his eyes but laughs along with the group. “You’re so cruel.” He says, sighing. “But you’re not wrong.”

“Hand over the pies, pretty boy!” You order, reaching forward to take one from his outstretched hands. You must admit, Ren’s grandma’s secret recipe, or whatever story he’s telling, is bang on the money, and the pie is easily the most delicious thing you’ve tasted in ages.

Ren and Cub distribute pies as other Hermits come and go, exhausted from a day of building, planning, and mining. Stress and Iskall join, taking the empty spaces to your left as Ren and Cub occupy the seats across. Impulse, Tango, Gem, and Pearl arrive just as the sun dips to the skyline, casting an orange glow across the faces of your fellow Hermits.

Discussion flows freely as you regale one another with tales from the day. The series of events expressed by the group that took on the Woodland Mansion sets everyone into a fit of giggles, Gem blushing and smacking Impulse repeatedly after he discusses her lack of spacial awareness. You can already tell this will be a running gag, and poor Gem will be constantly fearful of things behind her for the coming weeks.

It isn’t long until the group expands once more as the bickering voices of Mumbo, Grian, and Scar begin to fill the air surrounding the camp.

“...if you had just seen the skeleton and taken it out in the first place, we wouldn’t have had to mine for 3 hours, Grian.” Mambo huffs faintly, voice barely traveling through the trees.

“Oh sure, Mumbo, it’s all my fault I didn’t see a daylight skeleton take a shot at me before I was SHOT IN THE SHOULDER! My mistake, how silly of me.” Grian fires back, voice rife with sarcasm. Their squabbling reaches a fever pitch as they approach the fire, jostling for the first warm Giga Pie.

“Oh my word, are you two still arguing over that stupid skeleton? That was hours ago!” Pearl questions.

“It was hours ago. Imagine the day I’ve had!” Scar says with a huff, lifting the back of his tunic to comfortably flop down next to you as Mumbo and Grian settle into the empty log to your right.

“No one said you had to stick around, Scar,” Grian interjects, mouth half full of pie.

“Somebody had to keep you two safe! I’m not sure what was more of a threat to you both; rogue skeletons or one another!”

Grian sticks his tongue out at Scar, blowing a raspberry at him before turning to start a conversation with Ren.

“I swear those two are turning me grey. Look, look, can you see any? Am I prematurely aging? It’s such a struggle taking care of toddlers all day.” Scar gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes possible as you giggle, looking up at him to spot a stray grey hair.

Scar’s eyes catch yours as his face visibly softens. Your eyes travel across his face, taking in the specks of gold the glow of the campfire highlights in his green eyes. His hair, usually perfectly styled and cared for, has developed a wave during his day out, cascading down his shoulders and behind his ears. You admit you can’t see a grey hair among the bunch, but you were never really looking, if you're honest. Though lightly chapped from a hot spring day in the sun, his lips remain as enticing as ever, and your eyes feel forced to follow the scar that begins at his bottom lip and curves down, leading to the gloriously tempting expanse of his neck. You thank whatever deity brought about dusk as the dim light conceals the increasing beat of your heart and blushing face as your mind presents you with the visual of what Scar would look like under you, neck and throat arching to give you all the space you need to nip, bite and kiss every inch.

“Well?”

“Hmm?” You’re aware you’ve made a noise, not entirely aware of what was asked.

“Do you see anything? Any grey hair I should be worried about?” Scar asks, eyes shifting from earnestness to something you can’t pinpoint, but it’s more mischievous.

“No.” You quickly respond. “Nothing grey at all. You look…fine. Good. Still…young?” You offer, unable to find a way to talk yourself out of the awkwardness.

Scar laughs, tossing his head back to tempt you yet again.

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever described me as young, but I’ll take it!” He exclaims.

You share a warm smile, completely unaware that the Hermits around you are once again sharing that look, which only exists within the context of you and Scar.

As conversation passes the time, the temperature slowly drops, and you find yourself wishing you had thought ahead to bring a sweater along. Scar notices your light shiver, asking if you’re feeling cold. Scar has nothing to offer you, his elven garb not structured to be shared, but before he can offer to grab you something or warm your arms with his hands, a hoodie is tossed directly into his face.

“Oh geez. Sorry man didn’t mean to hit you with that. But if you’re cold over there, feel free to use it; I’m running a bit hot myself!”

Thanking Ren for his kindness, you nab the hoodie from Scar’s lap and tug it over your head. Instantly you feel better, sighing as you shiver in the fabric. Scar tenses next to you, and you allow yourself one minute to daydream that he’s jealous. You seriously doubt the possibility, but for a moment, the thought of Scar being envious that you’re not wearing his sweater warms you up in a way the sweater will never be able to. While you pontificate over Scar’s imagined jealousy, Grian has again gotten up to cause some mischief. While discussing his nether adventures to the others, including a tale about a Wither fight, he retrieves some soul sand from his inventory, setting it up as though he is moments from summoning the deadly creature.

“Oi, Grian! Not all of us have a death wish, love. Keep your withering to yourself, mate!” Stress cackles, grabbing at Iskall’s shoulders to use him as a human shield.

“Don’t worry, everyone; I promise I won’t summon a Wither. It’s too early in the season.”

Several sighs of relief pass over the camp, lasting five seconds until Grian speaks again.

“This is much, much worse.”

Without a second to react, Grian places three heads on top of the formation, and several Hermits, you included, duck down in fear of what hellish idea Grian has unleashed. Scar tucks you under his arm in anticipation, turning to be ready to position himself in front of you if need be. Luckily nothing happens; no fire, no dreaded fear. Looking up, you indeed see three heads on top of the soul sand—three Scar heads, to be exact.

“TA-DA!” Grian yells, cackling. “The fearsome Scarther!”

“Hey now!” Scar yells, laughing as he does so. “Is that why you two kept killing me?!”

“Not at all,” Mumbo adds through his own belts of laughter, “but I must say this is a pleasant turn of events.”

“What’s the Scarther’s attack?” Cub asks, leaning back onto the grass behind him. “Will we wake up to a house full of cats in the morning?”

“The dream!” Pearl exclaims with a wistful sigh.

“No, my friends, it’s far worst than that. When the Scarther reaches its full potential, it will unleash the deadliest and single most annoying attack in history.” Grian pauses for a moment, reveling in the dramatic quiet. “It shows up while you’re asleep, takes all your items, and creates a chest monster, so unruly, so unbearable to conquer; you eventually have to abandon your base and move to escape.”

“Noooooo!” Ren yells.

“Anything but that!” Tango wails, grabbing onto Impulse for support.

“How dastardly!” Gem adds, hiding her face behind her hand to control the giggles.

“Aw, c’mon guys, it’s not THAT bad! I’ve managed it for years!”

The group boo’s at Scar before laughter takes complete control. You elbow him in the side as the group pulls themselves back together. It’s ridiculous to imagine Scar, the kindest, most thoughtful person you know, having any commonality with a Wither.

“Better stay ahead of your chest monsters this season, pretty boy. Otherwise, everyone here will be on the lookout for BadTimesWithScar to make an appearance.”

Scar looks down at you, catching your gaze and holding it. It’s truthfully annoying how much power he wields over you with just a glance, just a quick minute of eye contact. You’re sure he could convince you to do anything, and you wouldn’t bother resisting if he’s looking at you like this. His smirk reaches his eyes, one side of his mouth curling dramatically. You’d think he was a cartoon villain if he wasn’t so damn attractive.

“Well, we couldn’t have that, could we?” Scar asks rhetorically. You’re not sure if he has purposefully dropped his voice a few octaves or if it’s a side effect of the smokiness surrounding you, but something in the air feels different. Somehow, something feels dangerous.

Scar brakes his gaze as he notices the others begin to collect their belongings, heading out for the night. You do the same and begin to remove Ren’s sweater before he tells you to keep it for the walk home. He’ll be around anytime you want to exchange the sweater for some Giga Pies. As people peel off into groups to head to their homes, Scar waves for Grian and Mumbo to go ahead. They send him a look, knowing exactly what he’s waiting around for, and he sends one back, communicating silently.

Turning to head down the path that leads to your humble starter base, you find Scar standing, waiting to escort you home.

“Scar! You don’t have to wait for me! I can make it back just fine.” You plead, not wanting to feel like a burden to him.

“Oh, I know you’re more than capable, but any good elf worth their cookies knows there’s safety in numbers!”

The joyful, honest look on Scar’s face is more than you can bear. You scoff but ultimately sidle up to Scar, slipping your arm through his outstretched one and allowing him to lead you up the path to your home.

As you and Scar turn down the dirt path, the moon crests over the tallest mountain ridge at spawn. The illumination from the moon rains down upon the area, casting everything in a gorgeous other-worldly glow. Light tendrils of smoke begin to rise as the moonlight touches upon the Scarwither, a low sizzle permeating the air. It’s impossible to tell if it’s the soul sand or the extinguished fire producing the noise, but the Scarwither evaporates into a mist within minutes. As if it was sentient, the mist begins floating through the air as if looking for something. A host.

#goodtimeswithscar x reader #badtimeswithscar x reader #hermitcraft x reader #wafflewrites #GoodTimesWithScar x Original Female Character

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