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you could use another fool by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
17 Feb 2026
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Summary
This game is chaos, all frenzied motion and the rubberband snap of respawn, burnishing coils of bubbling potential energy that build, build, until it all bursts to kinesis. Scar’s very blood boils in his ears; when a hyena-cackle slices the air, followed by stumbling bootsteps on the abandoned roof above, his heart constricts until it squeezes right up between his teeth.
Scar’s weapon snaps up and around, quivering tension, as his eyes spin to meet—
Ah.
Grian.
Or: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Series
- Part 2 of all that i can do
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but the rhythm persists by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
23 Jan 2026
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Summary
At precisely 3:47 AM on a Thursday night, Leo enters Donnie's lab and says, apropos of nothing and with exaggerated breeziness, "Hey, Donnie— yes, or no?"
The click of Donnie's fingers on the keyboard skip a single beat. "On what," he asks.
Leo says, slowly: "Yes... or no."
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it's grown a little worn by definitelynotshouting
Fandoms: Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
02 Sep 2025
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Summary
Scar does not plummet back to the depths of his sunflower field once the ornate thread of his red life snaps. Instead, he lingers, a pale spectre shrouded in mist as the sun wheels on its track in the sky and begins its descent to the horizon.
"Good game," Grian rasps behind him, a lamb's-eared echo of Scar's own ghostly thoughts. "That's a wrap, then, huh."
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lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
26 Dec 2024
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Summary
"Grian, what are these?"
Weakness, he tries to rasp; it comes out garbled, so he sucks in a long, slow breath and tries again, lungs trembling with the effort. "Weak– weakness."
Scar drops the bottle like it's burned him. "You took three weakness potions?" he chokes out, and that seems to break whatever trance Xisuma, Pearl, and Tango have been in this entire time. They rush forward, eating the distance between them in rapid strides, until they're all crouched around Grian.
Grian shuts his eyes again, before remembering he isn't supposed to do that. He wants to say sorry. What he says instead, is: "It was– safer. Like this. For you."
It amounts to about the same thing.
Or, I finally buckle down and post the rough draft of hunger au, where I give Grian every mental illness known to man and also a few new ones. Please heed the tags.
Series
- Part 3 of all that i can do
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your half of the ransom by definitelynotshouting
Fandoms: Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
20 Oct 2024
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Summary
Trader Scar's is too-empty for so comely a morning, a hollowed-out shell long rebuilt and bristling with more wares than he has those to sell them to. But it's a familiar charade— Scar slips into the back with a single sunflower clenched tight in his palm, bruising the petals and scratching against the insides of his fingers.
When Scar steps back out to the front, a ghost is waiting patiently for him at the counter.
"Oh," Scar says, and the word scrapes like rust from the well of his throat. He'd recognize those wings anywhere. "Well, hello there, Grian."
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Through the Looking Glass, Darkly by definitelynotshouting
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, HOTGUY COMICS Zinethology
14 Sep 2024
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Summary
“... Alright!” Impulse’s voice echoes over itself in a multi-layered choir, bouncing off half-ragged walls and burrowing in amongst the sculk. “Well, she could definitely use a bit of an updo, but… yeah! Here it is!”
At the center of Forgery's former lair, ravenous fingers have already punched their way into stone, scrawling up the vaulted walls in strange, fungal swoops—letters without language, glyphs without meaning. Hemmed in by something akin to thick, yellow limestone, the malignant mixture in the cistern below them undulates in time with every echo—and when Gem peers into it, locks her gaze with that yearning abyss, her skin begins to crawl.
Impulse had called it the Catalyst. Gem calls it for what it really is:
Hungry.
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Summary
"Dude, quit squirming!" Scar's laugh starts as a deep, bright rumble in the pit of his stomach, soaring from his throat to punch the air in short, ribboned strokes, each a brilliant star between them. The air here is warm, dazed, an illuminated snow globe— except the globe is his tree, and the snow drifts in downy feathers outside it, forming an intricate latticework of frostbitten fingers that crawl up the sides of his windows.
They’d retreated here an hour ago— once their impromptu snowball fight with Doc had transcended from three hermits to thirteen— all shivers and chattering teeth, drenched to the bone. Now, with the fire stoked, sweaters both discarded and exchanged, neither one of them can ignore how the bedraggled wreck of Grian’s feathers are in desperate need of preening.
"You're doing this on purpose!" Grian's retort is tart, but it lacks true bite, curling high as a silver wisp of smoke. "Sto— stop it, Scar, stop trying to tickle me—!"
Series
- Part 6 of by any other name
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all the words that i forgot to say by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
23 Jan 2024
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Summary
Grian's wings rustle and shift behind him as he speaks; a soft, raspy susurrus of flexing feathers. Ruffle, smooth back out. Ruffle again; calami rising, spearing scarlet vanes through the air only to judder back down in a cascade of fluttering ripples.
It’s a foreign motion on him, and one that escapes translation entirely; Mumbo is still drawing the map behind these new, unconscious ticks Grian displays when he isn’t paying attention, and the effect is not unlike staggering at the bow of a ship cresting a surge. Stomach churning, queasy, the threat of a capsize hanging over their heads— somewhere between Grian’s abrupt disappearance from Evo and his miraculous, tentative return, he’d fractured into wholly unfamiliar fault lines.
The universe no longer quite makes sense. Grian no longer quite makes sense— although, really, when did he ever. All Mumbo can do now is hold steady course, and hope the rudder hasn’t broken out from underneath him.
Or: Grian has a question, and Mumbo stumbles through the answer.
Series
- Part 1 of all that i can do
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some post-mortem truth by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
16 Dec 2023
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Summary
Two hours later, the whistle of rocket-propelled elytra warn him of incoming company. Grian doesn't bother fleeing; he knows Scar, and Scar knows him, and with this last, missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place between them, he's under no illusions that staying hidden for long is feasible. Grian's eyes skitter to a crack on the far wall as clumsy footsteps scatter the snow outside, scrabbling for balance before the muted click of a cane joins them. Footsteps; another, louder click— the door's latch gives way, and a brief, blinding wave of light crashes over Grian's face, obscuring everything but the outline of a painfully familiar silhouette.
Grian has to look away. The door shuts, and for a small moment, neither of them so much as breathe.
Then Scar's sighs— one great, resigned gust. "Grian...."
He says nothing else. He doesn't have to.
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toil and sweat (losing your breath) by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting) for remrose
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
05 Jul 2023
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Summary
Scar truly is unfairly pretty tonight. His hair is mussed from both Dodgebolt and drinking, the left strap of his long green dress falling past his shoulder. Grian mentally traces its path over his bicep, then trails further— Scar's arms are incredibly muscled, and his hands are large and square, nails bitten off at the ends. Grian knows from experience that they're warm, solid. If Grian reached out, would Scar let him hold them?
It takes him a moment to realize Scar's stopped talking. Grian's eyes snap back up to his face; Scar's staring at him with an unreadable expression, swaying slightly on his feet. Grian has to force himself not to step further into his space, do something stupid that will land him in deep trouble when they're sober later.
"Sorry," Grian says belatedly. "I didn't quite catch what were you sa—"
Scar tilts forward, crowding Grian against the tile they'd just been critiquing; his body forms a long, warm line against Grian's. Caught between that encompassing heat and the cold tile at his back, Grian shivers.
"Hi," Scar murmurs.
Or, Grian and Scar Have Bathroom Sex: The Fic
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everything i loved and feared by definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting)
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
11 Apr 2023
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Summary
Grian does not say I love you. He does not say anything at all. Instead he guides Scar’s head down, until their lips brush, the taste of copper flooding Scar’s tongue. Then his hand drops, and his lungs stutter, one last, pained noise escaping his lips–
Scar wakes up choking on his own desperate scream.
For a moment, that’s all he can comprehend– the agonizing wail of loss that reverberates through his entire body. Scar breaks off with a harsh gasp, breath coming in short, stuttering bursts as he lifts his hands to cover his face. Grian’s lifeless eyes flutter in the dark spaces between his palms and pupils; Scar heaves, and shakes, and coughs as he forces his rabbiting heart to slow and his breaths to come even and deep.
He has to see if Grian’s okay.
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Summary
Another turn, pounding hard against the pavement, right on the heels of his raccoon– and the alley explodes into brilliant light. They've emerged into an abandoned side street, draped in the peeling remnants of old paint, backdoors hanging from their hinges. Its sole occupant is a familiar lanky figure, sitting at the top of a set of stairs leading to the back of some condemned building, rummaging gleefully through Wilbur's slim wallet.
Tommy doesn't hesitate. “Get fucked, bitch!” he shouts as he leaps from the alley’s mouth, propelling himself forward on spite alone. Antfrost's head snaps up from his prize, eyes wild, just in time for Tommy's knee to connect with his chin.
Or: on a brisk Tuesday morning, the famous vigilante Red Raccoon's life– and the lives of every other powered citizen in Essempi– gets promptly turned upside down.
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just a step from fearless by definitelynotshouting for ExAstris_Laetitia
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
18 Mar 2023
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Summary
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.
Series
- Part 5 of by any other name
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Summary
haunt
verb
gerund or present participle: haunting(of a ghost) manifest itself at (a place) regularly.
"a ghost who haunts the farmhouse"(of a person or animal) frequent (a place).
"he haunts the barn"be persistently in the mind of (someone).
"the sight has haunted me for years"be persistently and disturbingly present in (something).
"I am haunted by his shadow"What is the definition of a haunting?
It begins like this: between one day and the next, an intruder appears in their house. It begins like this: their home, between rolling hills and poppies, is now haunted.
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Summary
Here he is— crouched on a cobble roof with Wilbur to his right, mumbling too low to discern under the smoke-sweet breeze. Eyes trained on the miniscule figures of Schlatt, Quackity, and Tubbo where they stand on their shared podium. He alone is burdened with Apollo's foresight.
Speak your lines, Theseus. Dance, and do not deviate.
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a little victimless crime by definitelynotshouting
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
21 Jan 2023
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Summary
On a technical level, the rite he’s performing is paltry compared to what he executed all those heady months back– chalk-powder in concentric circles, a matchbook, the potential for flame. Simple. Too simple; any of his old professors (Academy-trained, tried, and true) would have failed him for presenting such a stripped summoning spell. But half the magic lies in intent– with enough bull-headed, scrabbling belief, you can claw anything into a shape of your choosing.
Grian had taught him that.
One breath. Two. No room for doubt– no room for second chances. Scar strikes the match and, with a deft flick of his hand, tosses it into the chalk-powder.
Series
- Part 4 of by any other name
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Summary
"If Mumbo wasn't our client, what do you think his role in a grift would be?"
For one taffy-stretched moment, Scar doesn't respond. Unlike Grian, whose eyes began wandering an hour ago, his gaze is glued to the sky; whether he's counting the minutes to nightfall or admiring the colors is anyone's mystery– though if Grian had to hazard a guess, it's a little mixture of both.
Then Scar rolls his shoulders and says, with the teasing nonchalance Grian has begun to associate with all of their interactions: "Oh, eye-candy for sure."
Grian chokes on thin air. "Scar!"
Series
- Part 3 of by any other name
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Summary
Scar wakes in increments; awareness drifting to the surface in slow, rippling arcs, circling around some unseen central point. It coaxes him back to consciousness, poking and prodding his mind until the sleep-muddled haze finally parts, and Scar is left with the stark, raw weight of eyes– a dozen, two dozen, a hundred, thousands of eyes– boring into him.
S̸̠͍̔̀̕ċ̴̞̄a̸̝̓̈́r̵̯̍́ͅ.̷͇̓͂
Series
- Part 2 of by any other name
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Summary
When Grian speaks, his voice is low– a genuflection to the pale luminescence peeking through the gap in his curtains. "Oh," he says, and a note of awe rounds out the syllable. "Scar, I think Christmas might've just come early."
Series
- Part 1 of by any other name
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i am fed, but still i starve by definitelynotshouting for plasticghostbird
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
05 Oct 2022
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Summary
Scar studies him. Glances at the feathers curtaining his view of the throne room's entrance, then slides his gaze back to Grian's dancing eyes. Fighting a losing battle is difficult enough; fighting one you've lost before it's even begun is impossible. "Yeah, alright," he says, resigned to the tendrils of fondness cinching thorny vines around his heart. "Let's hear it."
Another flash of teeth, dyed red in the light spilling through Grian's feathers. "The 'Not A Resistance' Resistance," he says, low and teasing, "would like to cordially invite you to kiss me stupid." He lets that simmer in the shred of air between them before tacking on, measured and thoughtful: "This is a time-sensitive invitation, by the way, so you should figure out your answer in the next ten to fifteen seconds."