#scarian fic

[birrdies]

alright, alright by birrdie 3.5k, one-shot desert duo / scarian vigilante au

[zabo-writes]

Hanging Around (Scar + Grian)

Grian gets spooked and his avian tendencies make him stress grip the ceiling of the Barge. Scar encounters him in this awkward predicament.

-------------------------

Grian was in a bit of a pickle.

His day had been fairly normal:

He mined ten full shulker boxes of sand and gravel to restock at the Barge. 

He avoided the back of his base like a plague. 

He fed Mumbo’s weird sentient base… all very normal, non stressful activities.

Inside the Barge, as Grian was opening the chests to collect his diamonds, he suddenly slipped and set off a firework rocket. It made a loud BANG sound, and left lots of pretty purple paper bits all over the floor that were going to be a pain to get out later. It had been mostly harmless really, only a tick or two of damage, but on instinct Grian jumped and grabbed onto the campfire-thatched ceiling of his upper floor for dear life.

This would not have been a problem, were it not for the fact that his talons had caught the wood in a stress grip, and now he couldn’t let go.

Grian was stuck on the ceiling.

He sighed. It wasn’t often that his avian behaviors interfered with his day to day, but boy did they choose the most awkward times! Grian stretched his wings in annoyance.

Okay! Let's assess the damage: 

His entire left foot’s talons were wrapped securely around the campfire wood on the roof of the barge. He had no control over the vice-like grip strength that his talons held in these situations. Depending on the level of stress that induced it, this could keep him stuck for anywhere from minutes to hours. 

His right hand had grasped a fence post on the wall to stable himself in his fright. That grip was less… grippy? His knuckles were still white with tension, but in his experience he was usually able to gain control over his hand far more quickly. Grian wasn’t really sure why, maybe it was because his feet were more bird-like, and his hands were less so? He wasn’t going to question it.

Right foot, left hand, and both wings free to flail idly while he waited. And bump awkwardly into all his chests.

With a bit of focus and begrudgingly calm breathing, Grian managed to dislodge his other hand. Great! Now he could hang upside down like a bat while he waited for his foot to be less grippy. Nothing to see here, just an average day at the Barge, doing his stretches… 

Grian really hoped no one came in to see him like this.

But it seemed luck was not in his favor today, as he began to hear singing in the distance growing slowly louder as someone approached. And singing generally only meant the arrival of one person in particular.

“Why, hello there! What are you up to on this fine afternoon Grian? Hanging around?”

Grian leveled Scar with his most unimpressed expression, though the effect was slightly diminished by his predicament. Scar shamelessly eyed the avian down and up, undeterred.

Growing a little self conscious of his jumper slipping and showing his stomach, Grian adjusted his arms so he was leaning extremely casually against the wall. Very casual and also comfortable. He hoped Scar left soon because he could not keep this up for long.

“Hello Scar. I’m doing quite well actually! Just doing my daily stretches.”

Scar nodded sagely, “Ohh I see! Always good to stay fit, that’s good, keep the muscles strong.” 

“Yes, precisely! So, did you need something?”

“Hmm, I actually came by looking for some lanterns, but I think I’ll do some leisurely shopping around the Barge! I’m sure you don’t mind, do you, Grian?”

Grian did mind, actually! He minded very much, Scar! Grian cursed his bird luck under his breath, but gritted out “Don’t you have some mayoral duties to attend to? More evil lasers to build?”

“It’s not evil! It has solar panels,” Scar said as he brought himself face to face with the hanging avian, placing his hands on the sides of Grian’s shoulders, “And besides. I’m much more intrigued on what’s going on with you. I think you’re lying, pesky bird.”

Grian felt his face grow hot. He tried to shift away, to no avail.

“Scar…”

“C’mon! You can tell me, what's up?”

“..... I’m a bit stuck.”

“Really?!” Scar gasped, “Stuck in your own shop? If this isn’t Grian-safe, it surely isn’t Scar safe… I may need to write you a citation!”

“No, no, it's like a bird thing. I got spooked by a rocket and then I stress-gripped the ceiling.”

Scar’s face lit up in a way that usually did not mean good things for Grian.

“Oh, I can help you calm down! Hold on right there Grian, I’ve got just the wizard crystal for this occasion…”

“I really don’t think that's needed here,” Grian protested as Scar rifled through his enderchest, coming out triumphantly with a pink piece of glass. 

“Here we go! A one of a kind calming crystal just for you! Oh, and I can go get Jellie for you as well, she’s very calm…”

In the midst of Scar’s rambling, Grian felt his talons release from the ceiling. He tumbled gracelessly to the floor, taking out Scar in the process and landing them both in a tangled heap on the ground.

“You deserved that,” said Grian fondly, making no move to get off of Scar.

Scar looked up at him with a smile, “Another satisfied customer! Can I interest you in a bulk deal?”

[setworldspawn]

lodestones

pairing: grian/scar

chapters: 11/?

words: 88.8k/?

tags: superhero’s/superpowers, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, realistic minecraft, secret identity, morally ambiguous character, angst with a happy ending

Scar’s never known the avian to be anything but confident, calm, and calculated. But now he’s frightened, swinging a sword around haphazardly as a last-ditch attempt to stay alive, and all it will take is one wrong move or one perfect shot from a pillager, and he’ll die.

And in a way, Scar is terrified too, because he’s never been able to land a shot on the avian before, or get close enough to do any damage, but whatever got to him first did much more than just a little prick from an arrow. Pillagers are scary in their own right, but Scar has a feeling that it wasn’t just pillagers or ravagers that did this.

Something is very wrong.

or, Scar saves the city’s most dangerous criminal, makes him his roommate, falls in love with him, and then also saves the world with him. In that order, with various setbacks along the way.

link (🔗): https://archiveofourown.org/works/51385081/chapters/129849976

[sun-is-a-square]

Sirens are dangerous, man-eating monsters. But they’re also considered a delicacy, worth their weight in gold.

Grian is a down-on-his-luck fisherman who finds a starving siren has moved into his favorite fishing spot. It’s only a matter of time until one kills the other.

The siren is more… charming, than he’d expected.

—————

Scarian siren x fisherman fic :]

[remwrites]

hello. closer to another shore, a little scarian fic abt fake-dating your ex, is now complete at 56k. hope u enjoy :-)

[starcrossedandstupid]

the lovely @of-the-faerie-folk requested scarian with prompt #38 from an ask game going around, So here's the link to it on Ao3! It's also below the cut if you prefer reading fics on Tumblr : ))

All Grian could see was red. The red of the heatwaves covering the desert, the red of his sweater, the red of blood on his fists. He couldn’t tell whose blood it was anymore, not when both him and Scar were beaten and bruised. His fist connected against Scar’s jaw. He staggered back, hitting into the cactus ring surrounding them. The man picked himself up, and began walking back towards Grian, readying his next hit. Grian prepared himself for the hit, trying to guess which way he’d have to dodge. Scar aimed his nose, rushing at him. Grian quickly moved to the side, grabbing Scar’s arm in the process, before launching a punch in the man’s stomach. This time, Scar didn’t return the blow. Instead, Grian watched in horror as Scar spit out a large amount of blood, before collapsing to the ground.

“Scar, what’re you-“ Grian cut himself off, quickly kneeling down to Scar, worry filling his face.

“Gri-“ Scar’s words were interrupted by a violent cough, more blood leaking from his mouth. Grian quickly wiped the blood off of Scar’s lips, best he could. He watched how Scar’s eyes dimmed, just a little.

“You can’t die, double win remember?” Grian whispered, his voice welling with desperation. He had done this to him. To Scar. Again. Scar opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. No. No no no no no no no no no. He gripped Scar’s shirt, his knuckles whitening. “You can’t die! Get up Scar-“ Grian’s voice was hoarse and angry as he shouted. He knew he shouldn’t be yelling at Scar, he wasn’t who he was angry at, but he yelled anyways. Why couldn’t he just get up?

Suddenly, Grian felt a touch on his face, so light he almost thought it’d been a cruel illusion. But there it was. Scar’s hand cupped his face, the man giving him the weakest smile Grian had ever seen.

“G, it’s okay. You’ll be fine, alright? In-“ Scar paused, letting out a shaky breathe, “in another life, some other timeline, we’ll meet again. And we’ll be so happy. I promise. This time-“ Scar’s words were cut short as Grian leaned now and pressed his lips against his. Their kiss wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t happy. It was nothing like some new life Scar had tried to describe, trying to believe into existence. Grian kissed him hard, need and panic and passion flowing through him. It was messy and complicated and almost wrong. It was everything between them. Scar ran his hands through Grian’s hair, pulling him closer, though it didn’t feel close enough. Unspoken words rang out through the desert, no ears aside from theirs left to hear it. Scar tasted like fresh soil, he tasted like campfires at midnight, he tasted like promises and love. And Grian loved it. He loved Scar. In that moment, he knew Scar loved him back. It spark ignited in Grian’s chest, a flicker of hope, that maybe they could save this.

But the taste of blood lingered, ever present in Scar’s mouth.

Suddenly, Scar’s hands went limp, falling away from Grian’s head and hitting the sand below him. No no no no, not yet. Please, not yet. He needed more time. It can’t be over. He scrunched his eyes closed, refusing to open them. He knew Scar was gone, but maybe if he closed his eyes for long enough, he’d come back. He saw Scar, freshly red, flowers in hand, remembering how his eyes had met Grian’s for a split second, unable to hold eye contact. They were forest green and full of worry. When Grian finally looked at Scar, Scar’s eyes were no longer all emotion and flourishing forests. All he could see was void, void and godforsaken cactus green. Grian watched a tear fall onto one of the cuts on Scar’s face. Oh. He hadn’t realize he was crying. He wiped it away, but more pattered down.

Grian grabbed Scar’s body, blood smeared on his sweater and the ground beneath him, but he didn’t care. He held Scar, and he screamed. He screamed at earth, the sky, the sun. He screamed at the dead, the voices he heard chanting for a fight. He screamed at the eyes he couldn’t see, those who were drinking up his anguish. And he screamed at himself, for giving in and killing the only person he had left.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, sobbing, screaming, holding Scar. It could have been minutes, hours, centuries, and it wouldn’t have been long enough. But Grian could feel his eyes drying up, and his throat seared with pain. He laid Scar down gently, as if if he touched anything too hard he would shatter.

“I’m so sorry Scar- I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his words barely audible. As he looked out at the setting sun, he knew what he was going to do. He couldn’t stay like this, living with this guilt. He’d join him. Grian forced himself to get up and walk, staggering to the cliff he and Scar had sat at so many times before. As he reached the edge, he turned around, glancing at Scar. Maybe he was right, and in their next lives they could have a happier life. Maybe they could have a little more time. But here, that would never happen. Grian closed his eyes, leaned back, and fell.

[scarabies-real]

Hi Jellie enjoyers you should read my fic with eldritch Jellie who gives Grian the shovel treatment instead of the shovel talk

[wren-kitchens]

I have no idea if i’ll end up finishing this but I am quite proud of it so here’s a little scarian hurt/comfort

it basically takes place directly after they die in double life, let’s pretend there’s a temporary afterlife just for the sake of it

cw: mentions of death, self-loathing

grian jerks upright, breath ragged and hoarse, clawing at the front of his jumper. the air is still, everything is silent, he’s surrounded by darkness.

he’s dead- scar is dead, because of grian’s own stupidity. because of his own hubris, because of his own pride, because of his determination to prove himself. 

well, grian has proven himself, alright. proven to be a selfish monster, who couldn’t give a shit about the people around him until it’s too late.

his breath isn’t coming any easier, maybe worse now, tearing into his throat with every gasp. grian wonders if it’s possible to die in the afterlife. grian wonders if maybe he deserves it.

scar- god, scar. he deserved none of it—deserves nothing to do with grian, or these disgusting games, or anything like this again.

grian said he cared about scar. but what has he done but hurt scar? hiding their soulbound, talking down the jellies, ignoring him, cheating with bigb, killing him.

it’s no wonder scar is nowhere to be seen. he’s no idiot, despite what grian insisted to himself. scar knows he doesn’t deserve what grian puts him through, he’s gone back to hermitcraft. with any luck, he’ll be avoiding grian until one of them leave.

hot tears have begun to pour down grian’s face, and he coughs out a breath. scar shouldn’t have to hide away, because of grian’s actions. no, that shouldn’t be his burden. when grian gets back, he’ll talk to xisuma. he’ll say he- he has too many projects elsewhere, x will understand.

his chest hurts, a hollow aching for something shouldn’t be allowed to have. but it’s what has to be done, there’s nothing else for it. scar, mumbo, everyone. they don’t deserve to deal with him. he won’t make them a moment longer.

grian struggles to his feet. no time like the present, huh?

he’s only just set off, when he hears a shout from behind him that makes him freeze.

“grian! grian, oh goodness, there you are!”

he doesn’t have time to react before he’s tackled from behind in a hug from scar. maybe he gave scar too much credit for knowing what he deserves.

grian’s body is tense, and scar pulls back after a moment. “g?”

“scar,” grian’s voice is scratchy. he doesn’t turn to look at scar’s face. “you have to go.”

“what?” scar gives a nervous little chuckle.

“you can’t- you can’t stay around me anymore.” grian tells him.

“g, I don’t understand.”

“you have to leave me, scar.” grian’s voice breaks around his name. “you don’t- I can’t hurt you anymore.”

“hurt me?” scar’s hand is on his shoulder, warm and sturdy and comforting, and everything grian shouldn’t be allowed to feel. “what do you mean?”

tears are spilling down his face again. “scar, please.”

“i’m- g, i’m not leaving you.” scar says. 

grian takes a step forward, and scar’s hand falls off his shoulder. “then i’ll go.”

“no, grian-“ scar catches his wrist before he leaves, and pulls him closer. he turns grian to face him, and grian can hear the breath catch in scar’s throat. “what- what’s happened?”

“I have to go.” grian says, barely a whisper.

“where are you going?” scar says, a kind of hurt in his eyes. 

“away.” grian says. “I can’t keep- keep doing this to you, scar.”

“you’ve done nothi-“

“i’ve done everything!” grian sobs. “I pretended we weren’t soulbound, I shut you down at every point you tried to talk to me, I betrayed you, i killed you.”

“what makes you think i’m any better?” scar asks. “or the rest of us, for that matter? that’s the whole point of these games-“

“who made them, scar?” grian demands.

“grian, you can’t believe-“

“you- you don’t understand.” grian shakes his head, hugging himself, stepping backwards. “if I get- if I get too close, i-“ he chokes up. 

“‘too close’? grian what’s-“

“I hurt you, scar.” grian says. “every time you get near, I hurt you again and again and again.”

there’s tears glistening in scar’s eyes as he shakes his head.

“I can’t keep doing that to you.” grian says. “I can’t, I- I can’t.”

“what are you going to do, grian?” scar says, softly.

“i’m- when we get back,” grian’s whole body aches, hurting like a heartbreak. “i’m leaving. for- for good.”

scar makes a noise stuck between a cry and a gasp. “you- no, grian.”

“scar-“

“no.” scar takes grian’s hands. “you- not- you’re not leaving me, grian. I won’t let you.”

“I need to.” grian whispers. his voice won’t go any louder.

“I won’t let you.” scar repeats. “you said you didn’t want to hurt me?”

grian nods, voice caught in his throat.

“then stay with me.” scar begs.

“you- you don’t understand what you’re doing.” grian says.

“I understand perfectly.” scar says, crying now. “I love you, grian.”

grian bites back a sob. he can’t, he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know who grian is, he can’t.

“scar, you can’t.” grian says. “I have to go, you can’t- you can’t-“

“why can’t I?” scar says. “I know exactly who you are, grian, don’t you forget that.”

“and you love me anyway?” grian asks, because how, how can scar know so much about him, know everything, and not be repulsed?

“I love you, because of you, g.” scar is smiling. 

it’s not bright, or full of laughter and warmth, like it usually is. no, it’s a small, sad, defeated little thing. scar smiles with tears in his eyes, and an air of desperation and despair, and they’ve just died and it was all grian’sfault, and scar chooses to forgive him despite it all.

and grian sobs as scar pulls him into a hug, because he’s unforgivable, and grian has done so many awful things, and scar should loathe him with every fibre of his being, but he doesn’t, despite it all.

because scar is ridiculous and naïve, sweet, and kindhearted, and believes in happy endings and second chances, and thinks grian deserves both despite it all.

grian is cold, and bitter, and jealous, and cutthroat, and traitorous, and everything scar isn’t.

but scar is sly, and cheating, and tricksy, and lying. and grian is bright, and cheeky, and happy, and sunlight.

and maybe, just maybe, there’s room for change in those boxes.

“please stay with me.” scar whispers. “I need you with me.” 

“i’ll hurt you.” grian says. “I can’t hurt you again.”

“you can’t hurt me. not in any way that matters. not if you stay.” scar tells him. “I can’t-“ his voice breaks. “I can’t lose you, g.”

scar’s voice is pained, and desperate. grian never wants to hear it sound like that again.

“okay.” grian says softly.

“‘okay’?” scar pulls away slightly, so he can see grian’s face. “okay what?” there’s so much hope in his expression, it almost hurts.

“i’ll stay.” grian says.

“you- you will?” scar says. “you’ll stay?”

grian nods, and underneath all the fear and dread and hate, something inside him glows. faintly, gently, barely a flicker. but it glows.

“thank god.” scar mumbles, and pulls grian into another hug, stroking his hair.

this time, grian hugs back. “i’m so sorry.” he’s crying again. 

“i’m sorry.” scar says. “I shouldn’t have just ignored you—I was just running off as you were trying to tell me I was your soulmate.”

[definitelynotshouting]

DEFINTELY DONT PUSH YOURSELF TO GET THIS DONE JUST TAKE YOUR TIME AND DONT WORRY ABOUT IT ANYWAY HERES MY PROOF AND

VOTE FOR SCAR WOOOOOOOO🔈🔈🔈

prompt: “Basorexia” <333

Thank you for being so patient while i worked on this!!! I hope the surprise polishing made the wait worth it, friend :D

read this on ao3

just a step from fearless

Between clouds the sun is a bloated bauble, leaking gold over the Shopping District's rooftops and filtering through leaves to splay in dramatic, sweeping brushstrokes against the ground. Golden hour creeps along the grass with mincing footsteps; rough estimation informs him that Grian has the better part of twenty minutes before the horizon swallows every last dreg of light.

In hindsight, a wiser course of action would have been transporting this concrete powder fifteen minutes earlier. By his own admission, however, Grian has never claimed to be wise– and he's paying for it now, with rays so intense he has to squint just to make out the Entity's silhouette. Between that and the sweat rolling into his eyes, it's a miracle he's made it this far without tripping.

Grian glances down to aim a fierce scowl at the shulker box balanced in his arms. "You're a lot of trouble for this high a demand, you know," he says, one foot probing along the cobbled path in front of him. A loose stone here could spell disaster; he doesn't fancy spending his remaining daylight picking up spilled powder. "I'm not even sure why I decided to stock you, actually– goodness knows my life would be easier if I didn't."

Easier, but less profitable– concrete powder is in high demand. Worth it for the diamonds, he reiterates to himself, pressing forward with blind steps. This is the last box he needs to empty, and then he can return to his drafts, put a quill to those ideas scratching at the idle back of his brain. If he can just wring out a few sketches in advance–

A cascade of burbling laughter pierces that thought before he can fully immerse himself in it. Grian swings his head up and around with a sharp, wild snap; ahead of him are two amorphous figures, their features masked by the dying sun. Sight's a moot point, though, when it's Scar's bright voice that sparkles through the air right after– far enough that it remains indistinct, but unmistakable in its exact cadence.

Grian's lips curve at the corners of their own accord, an echo to Scar's hiccuping giggles. Whoever he's with must have cracked an incredible joke– or a mediocre one Scar finds personally funny. That's the beauty of that laugh: Scar wields it with the theatrical precision of a tactical weapon, bulldozing through any semblance of unease and rounding out the corners of a conversation. It's the sort of talent that charms you, erases any tension lingering around your shoulders– and from experience, it's impossible to resist responding in kind. Grian has long since memorized that laugh, tucking it between the chambers of his heart until it winds, soft and feathered, around his ribs.

A few more steps is all it takes for the Entity to rise into position, blotting out what remains of the fading light. Grian stumbles to a halt, blinking back ghost-spots as his eyes adjust. At least now he can give in to the hummingbird curiosity caught within his chest; cursory investigation reveals False, the set of her shoulders casual, relaxed. Something blue and shining tumbles, over and over, between her fingers. A token for TCG? He hasn't gotten the chance to sneak a peek yet.

Grian opens his mouth, tongue poised to call out to her, when his eyes slide over to land on the source of that familiar, soap-bubble voice he'd heard seconds prior.

Framed in gold, Scar glows. Liquid honey strokes the curve of his cheek, gilding the flash of his teeth in a blinding grin as he waves one hand in the nebulous direction of TCG. Whatever they're talking about, it's got Scar animated– he bounces on his toes, the handle of his cane glinting with each subtle motion. Trapped under his arm is that ridiculous construction helmet he's taken to wearing while shaping his theme park; strands of smooth, dark hair fall in gentle wisps around his face where they haven't been pressed flat, escaping the serviceable bun gathered at the nape of his neck. The stark contrast drags Grian's eyes up to the cut of his cheekbones. Silvery scars take on an aureate sheen where they slash over his jaw, lip, and nose, and every inch of him– the buckles on his outfit, the enchanted ripple of his elytra, the diamond refractions of his tools– scintillates.

Struck dumb, Grian can only stare, wide-eyed as his heart leaps uninvited into his dried out throat. From the distance of fifteen blocks, Grian traces the easy tilt of Scar's lips, how his entire body leans forward into the humor of whatever lies in False's low voice. Without his consent, a rich, syrupy ache blossoms underneath his sternum– the raw, tender bite of a fresh tattoo, digging hooks into his skin to stretch him far too thin over the swell of his own heart. Deep in his mind's eye, Grian tilts forward, lungs aching, into the event horizon that is Scar's smile.

For one suspended moment, only the silk impression of Grian's lips sliding against Scar's remains. An amber simulacrum of tongue to chapped cupid's bow, the faint sting of teeth against his bottom lip. Grian's hands fumbling to sink, desperate and grasping, into Scar's soft hair–

Grian drops the shulker.

It lands with an unceremonious crash on Grian's left foot, splitting open to spill stacks upon stacks of cyan concrete powder. In a display of herculean self-restraint, Grian holds in the instinctual, ear-rending shriek that threatens to rise from the back of his throat as lightning bolts all the way up to his ankle; instead, he gulps it back, and molds it into a polite, strangled yelp that doesn't carry outside the immediate radius of the blocks around him. 

A beat. Grian sucks in a long, deliberate breath between his teeth. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale again. Then, with the careful, practiced movements of a man far too used to comical injuries, he extracts his foot, wincing at the firework-bloom of bruised nerves that burst with the motion. Pure luck that he's wearing his good boots; nothing's broken– not even the shulker, whose top spins in lazy, spiteful circles on the ground, rattling absently.

Heat suffuses his face in one concentrated wave. Grian shoots a furtive peek back up at where Scar and False are standing, only to come face to face with empty space. A glimmer of movement tickles at his periphery; Grian whips his head around just in time for Scar's retreating back, muscles bunching beneath rolled-up sleeves, to disappear within the depths of TCG.

Grian stares at the door for a long, indeterminable time. "What on earth did you do to me?" he demands of his concrete powder, swinging to cast a glare that's one part bewildered, one part accusing to the shulker box splayed at his feet.

As expected, the busted shulker doesn't answer. Grian surveys the carnage of cyan between cracks in the path once more, heart beating a rapid tattoo in his throat. "Right," he says at last, "you are absolutely not worth this right now. I'm not– I'll come back and clean you up later." His lips pull back in a righteous grimace. "You’re not even remotely worth the diamonds."

And with that, Grian turns on his smarting heel, pulls a rocket from his belt, and flares his wings into the mellowed sky. If he continues to replay the mirage of that hungry, starving kiss all the way back to his base, well–

That's his business.

[scarian-fic-recs]

and rec's for scar helping preen grian's wings? honestly my fave troupe hermitcraft came up with and i always want more

YES you absolutely can!! quite possibly one of my favorites as well. also, this ask is so old and I am so sorry it took so long!! hopefully you haven’t read any of these before…

————

a hundred kisses (then you start again) - by backyardwizard @sca-rian

1/1 Chapters - 2,564 words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39842127#main

“We’re going to talk about this in the morning.”

“What do you mean by this?” Scar asked, and the best Grian could do was click his tongue in response, annoyed.

“Everything, Scar!” A sigh—Grian had been sighing a lot in the past hours. “We have many things we need to talk about, and you know that.”

In fact, Scar showed no signs of knowing anything: he just stared back at Grian, his expression blank.

“The thing I want to address is,” he started, smiling. “Which side of the bed do you want to sleep on?”

...

Or, Grian and Scar spend the night together after finding out they're soulmates.

————

nothing’s changed since the witching days - by harpydora @strangeharpy

2/2 Chapters - 3,717 words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40173165

Grian's wings are looking a little rough lately

————

the preening fic - by scarabies (gtws) @scarabies

1/1 Chapters - 3,748 words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40610094

He’s itchy. Preening is something that most avians or elytrians or winged-folk do once a day at least, but Grian is busy and so he often finds himself going a day or two without a long session.

Enter the Problem.

(or, as the title says!)

————

believing in the country of me and you - by Anonymous

1/1 Chapters - 17,979 words - (explicit scene)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40201992

But in the morning, all of the thoughts from the night before were gone. All of the stars and the inky black were gone, and all that was left was Scar's huge hands gripping him close and his leg between Scar's thighs and his nose pressed into Scar's shoulder. All of him surrounded by all of that, and the unfortunate feeling that he'd never been so fucking close to something he wanted while also nowhere near it.

The grip on him was tight, and Grian whispered, "Let me go."

or, Grian doesn't want to let Scar close

————

again, so sorry these took so long!!! hopefully this is what you were looking for and as always,, enjoy!!

[beeh0n3y]

CHAPTER THREE Y’ALL

[birrdies]

as above, so below by birrdie 119k, 10/10 chapters (completed!)

[justfor2am]

scarian hanahaki one shot be upon ye

it 4k words and slaps so hard go read it pls pls pls pls pls

[iron-sides]

how to court your "professional rival" was my gift for @droidofmay for the @extrememcytexchange!!

i had a blast working with her prompt and the time of my life writing this fic :D wonderful exchange, would participate again

[ano-writer]

AU where

Grian goes missing for 6 months before turning up to Scar's doorstep, covered in dried up blood, mud and other debris. The two have not talked to each other since they had been dating five years ago. The two high school sweethearts who broke up right before the second year of college couldn't bear to stay in contact with each other.

"I need your help."

"What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does fucking matter."

"I uh- I may have killed some people... And I need your help."

And Scar being Scar, he goes along with Grian on the longest, most dangerous roadtrip of his entire life.

[remwrites]

👉👈soo i have been reading ur story "closer to another shore" and i have been a lil insane over it, i really like the world building especially about the vex, and everythign just gives me a brainrot/pos!!! i dont know what to say i drew this thing hope u like it byeeee! :3

HELLO??? BITES YOU BITES YOU BITES YOU /AFF

BRUHHH this is literally gorgeous i'm in tears. u captured the moment in such a ephemeral and visceral way i'm in just shock. thank you so so so much????