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“Scar, get back here!” Grian cried, swiftly darting back and forth through the dense pine trees, all eyes trained carefully on the demon running a few feet away from him. The sun was setting, bathing the forest in an array of orange and yellow tones, reminding him of the fires of hell from whence Scar had come.
This demon that was the target of Grian’s chase was Scar “Good Times.” A high-ranked charm demon straight from the pits of hell, sent to earth to lure humans into sin and keep the souls of those already damned from ever having a chance of repentance. Grian had been tasked with hunting and killing him for ages—2,304 years if he was counting correctly.
But of course, time and time again, Scar had eluded his grasp. It was just part of the demon’s nature, always managing to get himself out of the worst of situations with a smile and a wink, and a heavy dose of ancient magic. Born a conman, and forever a conman.
What was different about this chase though was the addition of an accomplice—a young imp with small horns peeking out of his fluffy mop of hair, still struggling to keep up with the much stronger demon he was following.
This was unusual- Scar worked alone, always. Most of his alliances were formed just for the satisfaction of stabbing the poor soul in the back later down the line, and Grian could only sigh as he realized this would likely be the fate of this poor imp.
Moments after this though, Scar slowed his pace, the chase likely coming to a close as it appeared he was going to run straight into a tree, which wouldn’t be too out of character for him. The imp stopped and Grian flew straight by him, diving closer and closer to the ground, closer and closer to Scar close enough to reach out and grab him by his collar—
That was until Grian was rudely interrupted by a bright flash of purple light, running straight through where Scar had been standing moments ago and instead face—first into the trunk of an ancient pine. He bounced off, landing on the ground in a flutter of feathers and pine needles.
Teleportation. Of course, he’d do that, Grian thought to himself as he sat up, dizzy and still stunned from the impact. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the imp boy, who looked like he’d just seen an exorcism.
Grian could continue the chase, but frankly, he was exhausted and curious. He’d have eons more to catch Scar, but he was somewhat curious to find out what strange twist of fate had befallen this imp to be following Scar of all things.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” the imp asked, his voice unwavering despite the fear radiating off of him, “What, you’re going to put a crucifix through my heart, throw garlic at me, whatever you fucking angels do?” he said, voice rising in volume towards the end of the sentence.
“Crucifix? Garlic? You’re an imp, not a vampire, young man. Besides, it’s not you that I’m tasked with hunting. I can’t hunt outside of my mission, so you’re safe. What’s your name?”
Grian was going to assume that this imp had never been outside of hell before—he reeked of inexperience and obviously had no clue what the role of angels even was. It made sense though, imps typically didn’t ever leave hell, especially not young ones like him.
The boy hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was some type of trick, before responding. “Tubbo," he said quietly, testing the waters. "My name’s Tubbo.”
Grian nodded, before replying, "My common name is Grian. It's nice to meet you, despite these…circumstances."
Tubbo didn't respond, eyes darting over Grian's form. It was then that Grian realized that in this form, with six sets of wings and countless eyes, he probably seemed much more intimidating to the young imp.
Grian snapped his fingers, deciding to present in the form that he typically used with humans, just a standard human with dirty blonde hair and a red jumper. No excess eyes, no wings, no glowing halos, or other outward signs of holiness or any magical characteristics.
A surge of energy went through him as he transformed, and upon doing so he noticed Tubbo relax slightly.
"Is that better? It's what I use with humans, a bit less intimidating."
Tubbo nodded before sitting down on the ground, putting his head in his hands and sighing. "You can keep going after Scar, you know. This is probably just a waste of your important angel time."
"I can hunt Scar any other day, I've got eons to do it. I'm more curious about how an imp like you ended up in the overworld," Grian shot back, sitting down and leaning back on the pine tree next to Tubbo.
"I- it was, uh- well, a spell went bad, okay? Tommy and I fucked it up. It was just a summoning spell that we did as a joke, we didn't think it'd even work."
"What were you trying to summon?" Grian asked, intrigued. It was definitely an impressive feat at how badly Tubbo had been able to mess up a summoning spell to end up in the overworld.
Tubbo paused for a minute, biting his lip and looking away. "Well, uh. We were trying to summon him."
"Scar? Why of all things would you try to summon him?" Grian responded back, stifling a laugh.
"He's cool, okay?” Tubbo said, flushing slightly in embarrassment. “And Tommy was making fun of me, and he was all like ‘Well if you’re such a big fan why don’t you summon him mimimimi,’ and then I was like ‘Fine,’ and well. I tried. And it worked. Kind of.”
“I see—”
“But then the thing is he’s actually a massive prick! He’s tried killing me at least three times since I summoned him, he keeps trying to push me off of cliffs and towards any monsters we have to fight, and he fucked up my cobblestone generator! I’m tired of it!” Tubbo growled, his tail flicking back and forth, just like Scar’s did when he was annoyed.
“Welcome to my world,” Grian replied back with a slight chuckle. “He’s just like that sometimes. One of his quirks, I suppose. Just be glad he hasn’t gotten a bow yet.”
Tubbo looked back at Grian with a slightly confused expression before continuing, putting his head in his hands.
“I just thought he wouldn’t be like that, you know?”
“Like what?” Grian asked. “He is a high-ranking demon, after all. Not many of them are great at being particularly agreeable or working in groups. There’s a reason they’re like that.”
“It’s not that, I just thought that he wouldn’t treat me like that because I was an imp. I mean, I know that I’m not all that strong or tough or great at magic. But most demons treat us imps like absolute shit because we’re naturally born in hell. And I thought that maybe because he’s a charm demon, it’d be different,” Tubbo said, sighing, tucking his tail around himself. “I guess that’s why they say to never meet your heroes,” he grumbled.
Grian’s heart sank upon hearing that, and he reached out a hand to pat Tubbo’s shoulder. It was slightly awkward, but Tubbo still seemed to appreciate the gesture, shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Your hand tingles, like a sparkler or something” he muttered, not turning to face Grian.
“Angels aren’t really supposed to touch denizens of hell,” he said, “Something about the energy clashing.”
Tubbo didn’t respond to that, instead, he simply stayed still.
“Scar’s not like that. He wouldn’t treat you poorly for being an imp, or anything else, ever. Charm demons, they use their charm as a weapon of sorts. Those sweet, enchanting words? They’re like daggers being thrown without you even being aware. Genuine acts of kindness from them are….rare, one could say. Only shown to those they’re close to. So he shows that he cares in other ways, I suppose. And being annoying and trying to kill you is just one of them.” Grian said, trying to say something that would comfort Tubbo.
He knew Scar like the back of his hand, like the wind in his hair, and he knew by now that the demon’s language of love wasn’t any of the classic ones, but rather assassination attempts and lies delivered with that classic smirk. His love language was pranks and teasing and arrows. And bouquets of flowers.
Scar loved flowers.
Upon hearing this, Tubbo seemed surprised, turning to Grian and saying, “So you’re saying that he doesn’t hate me?”
“Of course not! If he hated you that much, he’d probably have left you dead in a ditch somewhere by now,” Grian replied, laughing.
“Huh,” Tubbo said, brightening considerably after taking in this information. “I guess I didn’t think about it in that way.”
“Frankly, if I hadn't been hunting him for so long, I wouldn’t have thought about it like that either,” Grian said back.
“How long have you been hunting him?” Tubbo asked, tilting his head slightly.
“2,304 years,” Grian replied, having ingrained the anniversary into his mind.
“Wow, that’s a long time. And really specific too. I’ll level with you, you kind of suck at this whole demon-hunting thing.” Tubbo shot back with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Alright, that’s it,” Grian said, rolling his eyes and standing up with his hands on his hips, before snapping his figures to end the spell to turn him back into his standard form. “Go on and find Scar before I ask permission for you to be added to my hunting assignment.”
Tubbo paused for a minute, standing there like a deer in headlights before turning tail and running away, yelling a small “Sorry!” as he disappeared from Grian’s line of sight.
Grian laughed at this, leaning back against the tree as he ensured the small imp was far enough away and that there were no other prying eyes around. A quick scan confirmed this- he was out in the middle of the forest, after all, the nearest city being miles away
“Alright Scar, you can come back out now,” Grian called out, waiting for the familiar flash of purple light.
Moments later it came, with Scar appearing directly in front of Grian, before going and sitting by the angel’s side, leaning his head on Grian’s shoulder.
“Hey, Gri,” Scar said, voice dripping with fondness as he turned his head to press a chaste kiss to Grian’s cheek.
“Hey Scar,” Grian smiled back, fiddling with the engraved ring on his finger, a constant reminder of his and Scar’s bond. He knew without even looking that Scar was wearing an identical one. Since the day they’d wed, Scar had promised that he’d never take his ring off—and he never had.
“What are you going to tell the higher-ups about this one, hm? That the handsome and devilishly charming demon you’ve been hunting for years was just out of your grasp once again?” Scar asked.
“Hush,” Grian replied, pressing a soft kiss to Scar’s lips, cradling his jaw. “They’ll hear the same as they always have. What was with having me run head-first into a tree today, huh?”
Scar laughed at that one, tilting his head back with a glint in his emerald eyes. Those emerald eyes that had entranced Grian in the first place, the ones he could get lost in forever.
“That was just part of the fun, my love. I’ve got to keep you on your toes, after all. You can’t just pin me down on the ground all the time and expect them to believe it.”
“Oh, but I’d love to pin you down,” Grian whispered into Scar’s ear, feeling the shivers he sent down the demon’s spine.
“Stop that, we’re in a forest! What if the bugs see?” Scar replied, blushing a bright crimson hue.
“You’re such an idiot,” Grian replied, pressing another kiss to Scar’s temple.
“Yeah, but I’m yours, aren’t I?” Scar replied, smiling as he wrapped his tail around Grian’s waist. “I got you a gift,” he said, snapping his fingers. With a flash of purple light, a fresh bouquet of lilacs and poppies appeared in his hand.
“For you,” Scar said, handing the bouquet to Grian, who took a small breath in, inhaling the sweet floral scent. “The classic- lilacs and poppies.”
“You’ve been giving me these since the day I was assigned to hunt you,” Grian said, gently running his finger over the petal of one of the poppies.
“And you still love them?”
“And I still love them,” Grian whispered back with a fond smile.
The two sat like that for a moment, comfortable silence enveloping them as they stared up at the sky above which was quickly turning a dark indigo, the sun finally below the horizon.
“You like that Tubbo kid, don’t you? He told me about how you tried to push him off a cliff. You haven’t tried to hit him with an arrow yet, have you?”
“Well of course I like him, Grian. He’s fun to be around, he’s pretty skilled aside from the initial spell screw-up, and he likes space! Do you know how hard it is to find a demon or angel around here that likes space?”
Grian laughed, responding, “Thought so, Scar. You can just go back to hell at any time, can’t you?”
Scar nodded, “It’s the spirit of adventure though, Grian! It flows through me! Hell is boring, G. I need to get out, to explore. To take on the world and seize it with my bare hands!”
“Alright Scar, I believe you,” Grian replied, laughing. “What about Tubbo though? He needs to get home eventually, and you know that.”
At this, Scar bit his lip and turned away. “Grian, his dad is awful. Some sort of former imp politician or something that didn’t want kids and only had him just to carry on the family name. I don’t want him to go back there. The poor guy doesn’t deserve that.”
Grian sighed, closing his eyes. “Just keep an eye on him, alright Scar? If he gets hurt on your watch, you’re bringing him straight back to hell yourself, understand?”
Scar nodded, taking Grian’s hand in his own. “I promise that he will come to no harm under my watch. Absolutely zero percent,” he promised, sealing the deal with a kiss on the back of Grian’s hand.
Grian smiled, curling himself around Scar. “I just wish we could stay like this forever, you know, in a world where our marriage would be right. Where I could kiss you and nobody would say a thing,” he mused.
Scar simply let out a small “mhm” in response. “We take what we can get, Grian. We have to when our relationship is like this.”
“An angel and a demon marrying. Seems ridiculous, doesn’t it?”
“Seems like something wonderful to me. A testament to love, or something like that, Gri. Our love will be written in the book of ages. They can judge however they want, but I don’t care. I am yours and you are mine. That’s how it is, and how it’ll always be.” The words slipped from Scar’s mouth as naturally as a poet’s verse.
“That’s what you always say to me, Scar,” Grian said, his heart stirring at his husband’s words.
“And it’s what I’ll say to you, over and over again, every single night, my angel. My soulmate,” Scar proclaimed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Grian’s head.
“Of course, Scar. Of course,” Grian replied, laying his head on Scar’s chest as they leaned against the tree, a tangle of limbs and wings and tails under the stars.
Grian felt safe here, gently drifting off to sleep in his lover’s arms. Tubbo would just have to wait a night to find Scar, for now, the demon was only his. He drifted off with flitting thoughts of poppies and lilacs, of love and hellfire, warm skin and ruffled feathers.
But most importantly, Grian prayed for a better tomorrow. It was ironic, he knew, a creature that was to be prayed to and revered begging at the feet of an uncaring god. Though he knew it was hopeless and they would not be answered, he prayed for a world where one day Tubbo could be happy. A world where he and Scar could love. Something better.
And thus, the angel prayed to an indifferent brick wall for a kinder world.