((Yo, all of you Scarian cult people, I've seen your asses around so tag your Scarian homies ;) Enjoy this classical trope!

Ship: Grian x Scar
Category: Fluff))

---

"Whatever shall I do? Shoot you, slice you? Maybe hang you or dip you into a large barrel of acid? Dissect and eat your fresh, beating heart? Oh! So many choices!"

The sinister smirk crawls along his peach lips, winding them and curving his faintly freckled cheeks upwards. Grian partially reveals his menacing knife-like teeth as he presses his black heel harder on Scar's wounded cheek.

A wicked chuckle bubbles from the base of Grian's throat, the noise rupturing with darkness that can force anyone to aggressively cower.

Seems impossible, doesn't it? Such a charming, humble individual who was once adorable has turned to be a great threat to civilization.

"Don't get your victory over your head. Do whatever you want, but you should always know that the hero wins in the end," Scar grins under the boot pushing his face to the destroyed rubble below him. That only sent Grian to shove him harder while continuing to tower over the other.

His silver gloved fist clenches at the mere thought of the hero winning, and as Grian noticed during his years of ruthless villainy, the higher-ups will never stop sending nearly impossible heroes to defeat him.

His deceased father once owned the most brutal and infamous mafia groups of the world, and as his father remains settled in a grave, Grian took the role of replacing his father for their evil honor.

"Shut up," Grian hisses. "I have been running my father's business before you came into my life. Before you were even sent, I have killed off all superheroes that blocked my path. You are no exception." With that, Grian uses his element manipulation to lift a natural rock without even touching it. His expression gets replaced with another grin as he raises the rock, ready to smash it and end Scar. "Bye bye, Skyler."

Scar, without closing his eyes or flinching, awaits for the fatal blow that will design his fate. He stares blankly up at Grian with absolutely no fear, for he has encountered the fine line of death and life in his past years of crime fighting.

Even if Grian completely shreds his body and tosses it into merciless lava, he knows he lived a happy life, especially a life knowing he found love inside the person who is bound to kill him.

He proceeds to contemplate his final moments of life before flickering his eyes to the unusually lingering rock hovering close to his bruised head. A hazel eyebrow arches on his face before he quickly looks at Grian, who holds an uneasy facial recognition. His lips twitch, his sparkling blue eyes wide when suddenly-

"Ah-chew!"

Scar bursts into a fit of laughs, and Grian quickly joins, lowering his hand. The fake rock display lays against the ground again.

He hands a profound amount of apologies in between his many giggles as a female voice overhead yells a violent "CUT!" followed along with a sharp slap of movie set clips to turn off all the displayed cameras.

"Grian!" Scar lightly pushes Grian's boot off and immediately sits up, keeping his humble laughter. Despite Grian being the menacing villain, Scar still owns a few more inches than Grian, nearly a head taller. "We were doing so well!"

"I know!" Grian whines and uses his pointer finger to rub the bottom of his tingling nose. "I think I caught a cold when I was out last night." Just as he finished off his sentence, another squeaking "Ah-chew!" proved his statement furthermore.

Scar let's out another gust of laughter, ignoring the flames that sparked on his pink, prominent cheeks.

"Well, in that case, we will need to produce the scenes without you tonight if you are sick," the female voice that yelled CUT, presumably a stunning red-head named Cleo, continues as she makes her way over to the scene set and steps over the fake props. "Perhaps you should go home, Grian. Being sick will not be good for production."

"What do you mean? A little illness is not going to affect me and my acting skills," Grian reassures with a little gesture of his gloved hand, pursing his lips and making a simple "pshh" sound right after.

"But we cannot risk you spreading germs and illnesses to other individuals apart of this film. Go home, we will cover the scenes without you today to get some productivity through," Cleo smiles full hearteningly.

She completely understands the troubling issues and bodies that actors have to set up for themselves just to get the perfect frames and shots the audience desires.

A little illness may not seem like much, but it can go a long way in the acting industry. Especially if someone in the audience makes big news that one of the cast members seems more pale, flushed, and gravelly sounding in certain shots compared to others.

A bit more debate occurred between Cleo and Grian, a small and pointless effort to bicker. Then they turned towards Scar.

"You're his boyfriend," Cleo says, ignoring Grian trying to snatch the movie clips in her hold, seemingly to keep Scar out of the dispute. "What do you think?"

Scar glances at Grian who successfully seizes the movie clips, causing Cleo and whip around to grab his left hand. Grian's latched hand manages to slip out of his glove as if he poured oil on it.

"I think you are right, Cleo! Grian needs some rest!" Scar interjects before the two started a get-away police chase childishly. Cleo points at Grian, a victorious "Ha!" erupting from her, and Grian's defeated expression points towards Scar.

"But-"

Cleo, embracing her winning smile, hands Grian's glove back. "No buts, mister. We will still make it to the production deadline. Go home.

---

"Stupid sickness, stupid deadline, stupid acting career, stupid-"

"Still grumbling, G? It's been a day," Scar affirms, almost in a chuckle. The smile smeared across his lips was enough to inform Grian that Scar found it rather amusing.

Here he was, feeling forced in the furnished serenity of his apartment, mumbling countlessly while sprawled on his couch. It did absolutely nothing beneficial. The Hulu show on his television and empty bowl of keto ice cream was proven to be beneficial for his mood, however.

"I'm fine!" Grian flings his hands up in exasperation. Scar directs a pointed look at his boyfriend. "Okay, so maybe I threw up this morning. But it happens to the best of us."

"Grian, you literally woke me because you were puking in the toilet. Then, you proceeded to physically come over to get me out of bed because you were crying about how you were in the bathroom for half an hour."

"I was being overdramatic," Grian waves his hand to dismiss Scar's statement. "Whatever, I'm not actually super angry about it. More annoyed than anything. Don't worry, though, ice cream will fix my problems."

He grabs the empty bowl and stands up way too fa- oh boy was Cleo and Scar right.

The ceramic bowl tumbles out of Grian's hand, clattering thankfully on the rug, along with the metal clatter of the spoon. Scar instantaneously shoots up from his spot on the couch to grab Grian as he almost collapses backwards.

"No more ice cream for you. You need real food," Scar demands. Grian sinks in Scar's arms, alarming Scar into thinking he has fainted, before Grian heaves a sigh.

"Yeah, you're right."

"I swear you love giving me heart attacks, man."

A radiant smile perks from Grian as he looks up at Scar. Almost an apologetic smile. Scar can't be upset at that charming face.

Scar manages to set Grian rightfully back on the couch and cleans up the small ice cream spill on the rug. He looks at the clock after setting the bowl and spoon in the sink. Unfortunately he has to film a small scene that he missed a few days ago.

While Grian already knows this, he still complains about it, hoping to convince Scar to cuddle with him. A small lecture from Scar later and he left the apartment, leaving Grian slumped back on the couch to watch a recently developed documentary about cats on Netflix.

---

"Grian? I'm home!" Scar announces. His knee pushes on the door to open it. "I brought you some medicine and yum yums." He slips through, allowing the door to close on itself.

No answer.

He makes sure to lock the deadbolt when he sets the bags down. A frown crosses his face. He calls out again. "Grian?"

Yet, there's no answer.

Here begins the sinking feeling, one where a knot commonly advances in Scar's stomach at the face of dread. The light in the living room was on, so he takes a guess to reassure himself that Grian was recently in the room and could simply be napping in the bedroom.

He doesn't waste time pondering at the doorway. Instead, he grabs one of the medicine boxes from his grocery bag and trails into the rooms. Kitchen, laundry room, and bedroom remained silent.

Upon reaching the bathroom door, it was closed with the light off but he heard shuffling. He knocks lightly with a curled finger, not understanding the unusual silence or atmosphere.

"Scar, please don't come in," Grian's hoarse voice muffled through the door. Scar's hand lowers to the doorknob.

"Are you on the toilet?"

"No..."

"Then I am coming in!" Scar exclaims. He pushes the door aside, allowing the light to filter the room minus his shadow.

Scar should've prepared himself from the stench as his unoccupied hand quickly maneuvers to plug his nose. Grian slams the toilet lid, reaching out to plunge the silver handle and laughs nervously as the substance in the toilet flushes.

"I said not to come in!" Grian whines. His pale face, already flushed in his fever, shades a darker pink from shame and Scar mentally notes the line of sweat on Grian's forehead. His red sleeves have been rolled up to its farthest extent as if he's been blistering heat in waves.

"It's fine," Scar almost gags out. He turns on the ceiling vent to help get rid of the whiff. "I brought you some medicine."

Trembling like a newborn kitten, Grian slowly rises to his feet by using the toilet as his physical guide. He sputters out a small "Ah-chew!" while Scar presses his lips together to suppress a smile. The urge to say "Aww" must be concealed for Grian's sanity.

Grian takes hold of the medicine box. His fingers fumble with the edges, sniffling reoccurring continuously from his nose. After a moment of Grian's depressing feeble attempt of trying to open the packaging, Scar gently takes the box to rip it open.

"Clearly, you are weak," Scar says. He places his right palm on the side of Grian's face, who closes his eyes while humming and mumbling something about Scar's hand being pleasantly cool.

Scar helps Grian change his red jumper into one of Scar's black shirts. Grian rinses his mouth with water and mouthwash, gagging while over the sink, making sure not to get the oversized shirt dirty.

A small, devilish smirk plants onto Scar's face, one Grian's misses as his focus is on collecting sink water in a plastic cup to help swallow his pill. Before Grian can insert the pill between his lips, Scar, in one swift motion, manages to pick Grian up like a bride.

Trembling with chills, Grian doesn't make any arguments. He whimpers weakly and buries his face into Scar's chest, clutching onto Scar's clothes with the pill still in his grasp.

"As long as you don't throw up on me, I'm fine with carrying you," Scar says. Grian responds simply with a nod and a verbal hum of acceptance.

Scar carries Grian over into the bedroom. He sets Grian delicately down on their shared mattress before going to retrieve the cup of water. When he returns, he sits down at the edge of the bed, handing the cup to Grian and lifting his hand to detect how humid Grian's forehead is.

The taller wait patiently as Grian silently takes his pill and gulps down the rest of the water.

"Thank you, Scar, I'm really happy to have you here with me," Grian smiles, a plump contagious smile that effortlessly spreads onto Scar. He notices Grian's nose twitching.

"Anytime, my beautiful. You know what's really cute about you?" A hopeful glimmer shimmers in Scar's eyes as he sees Grian scrunches the bridge of his nose.

"What's tha- ah-chew!"

Scar laughs childishly, one definitely coming from the soul at the ridiculously timed accomplishment. "That! And right on cue!" Scar jokes.

And in no time, Grian ambitiously smacks Scar with a pillow.