smashcandle

[smashcandle]

<3

some slmau cletho

bonus lizz...tho? lizztho.

[smashcandle]

AND IF I STARTED CRYING?

privately, skizz wonders if he’ll be mourned by grian too

[smashcandle]

I can be your angle or yuor devil 😈

[smashcandle]

There is a weight to Skizz that Grian simply doesn't have.

The first time they fly together- he and Skizz, showing the new guy the skies above their ever-changing homeland- Grian can feel it. It's not just in the wings- he'd known well enough to expect the three sets, getting consecutively smaller down Skizz's back. From one angle they're just as white as any other angel Grian has met in the multiverse.

Yet they don't stay that way.

As light and shadow play across Skizz's wings they flash in colors Grian isn't sure even Scar could name, there and gone in less than a breath. It's a display, then it's camouflage, then it's just white feathers.

Then there's the sensation.

It's like- the air itself becomes solid around Skizz, a piece of armor. He doesn't let the wind carry him, rather he drags the wind, creating an updraft that Grian is more than happy to bounce around on with outraged laughter as the angel cackles below him, doing loops to send his smaller companion higher.

When their flight concludes Grian lands gently, with hardly a breath.

Skizz lands like he is the last locking piece the earth was forgetting, and when his feet touch the rock there's the barest little tremor as if something immense has come to rest.

-

Grian knows, of course, they all KNOW. Tango had been in those ancient wars, as well, and Etho and Doc- well.

Yet with Skizz it's- hard to remember, in a way it isn't hard to remember with Doc or Tango or even Impulse, cheerful as he is. Occasionally, there's a slip. A Moment. A flash in his eyes that's a bit too red, a word that comes out a touch too rough, a swing of a sword that bites through a post instead of just into it.

Skizz- he doesn't have those reminders. It sometimes surprises whoever might be around when the wings appear, normally just the two great primaries, far larger in span than Grian's and more flexible besides (since he's not, as Grian had taken pains to point out, ACTUALLY an avian, so it's not like his wings need to function scientifically; they're more there because angels fly and angels fly because they have wings, done and dusted.)

There's always a moment. Oh, that's right. Skizz has wings. Skizz is an angel. Skizz once powered the God Beacons in the early server wars, a living battery that kept the Holy on their crusade until the first great Crashes brought about the Dark.

Skizz is older than their server, than redstone, than time.

Skizz knows Impulse's full, true name, and Impulse has seen Skizz with all of his Eyes open.

Oh, that's right.

Skizz is something more.

-

Skizz doesn't make it hard to remember on purpose, any more than Impulse or Tango or Doc make it easy to remember on purpose. He just is what he is- goofy, excitable, ready to lend a hand or a suggestion or just be there as a silent warmth on which you can lean and cry.

That's why it's so jarring when the zombie horde happens.

It's a combination of things- the day has just wound down to night, Scar and Grian are near a village, everyone else has gone to bed and Scar just needs one more poppy for the red dye for his new tents. Easy.

Until there's fifteen zombies pouring out of the spaces between the houses, groaning and reaching, mouths open and eyes- where applicable- vacant.

It's a run and gun scenario if Grian ever saw one and that's what he's doing, half-hauling Scar along, his larger companion firing with that frighteningly accurate bow even as he's yelping in alarm.

Still there's too many, and their respawns are so far, and damn it one stupid poppy-

There's a sound that's an absence of sound.

Grian will realize later that it was a concentrated sonic boom, the sound barrier shattering and then coming together again in a single moment as a whitehot streak comes down from the sky.

This time Skizz does not land like a locking piece of earth.

This time Skizz lands like the end of all things, like the cold iron of space that fills the void between stars, like an angel who was once so feared that his name became a prayer and a curse and a plea until he couldn't bear the sound of it and begged his only friend to give him another.

The zombie he landed on is less than ash.

The three who had been closest are bisected laterally, their top halves burning into nothing and their bottom halves becoming moist slag on the ground.

Scar has already covered his eyes but Grian can see the halo, a writhing spike of golden fire that screams as it circles Skizz's head, its points blurred to a single singing line daring anything to come within reach.

Oh, Grian thinks to himself, not all of the scars are scars.

Some of them are Eyes.

Then he closes his own eyes, behind which he sees nothing but spots as he hears the sound of zombies dying a second time, though presumably it is their first death by holy fire.

-

"So that was. Overkill."

"You think?" Scar wheezes. Skizz laughs awkwardly as he helps the other man up, offering a regen potion. "Sorry, buddy. I was coming back from the mangrove farm and I looked down and- well. Some habits die hard."

Grian could say something. Could gently goad Skizz into talking more, do that thing he is so very good at doing.

Only Grian, despite what some might say, does know when to let the sleeping dog lie. So he only says, "How did you not break your face?" and laugh at the appropriate time when Skizz says with that lopsided grin, his eyes still shining a little too brightly, "Practice, G. Practice!"

-

No one on the Hermitcraft server is a clueless innocent. There are skeletons in every closet and that's part and parcel of belonging- there is no perfection here.

Like Cleo's state of perpetual paused decay, like Gem's refusal to be far from water long, like Doc's long hours and Etho's red stained fingers, Mumbo's sudden quick jerks towards a voice only he can hear and Cub's careful symmetry, they are all of them followed by stories and ghosts.

If Skizz's ghosts howl like lost souls, well.

Grian figures his friend has come to the right place, like Impulse all those years ago.

There's plenty of sky for them and their demons- the kind that don't wait for them patiently to roost.

[smashcandle]

new scar skin goes hard btw

[smashcandle]

My dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “Decked Out 2” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude I just fucking died

My buddy Etho pacing: whats the deal with bathroom penis

[smashcandle]

heavenly homes

[smashcandle]

For my friends who are stressing like me

In case anyone is having a bad night:

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

[smashcandle]

Castiel would be disappointed.

[smashcandle]

Not enough people are seeing this

Fire Thief

A Ranchers Animation AU

[smashcandle]

thinking about the person who said the spanners are not grumbo + skizz, if anything it's mumbizz + grian. you've never been more correct

[smashcandle]

[smashcandle]

Can we normalize this?

Like please please please??

[smashcandle]

[smashcandle]

Canonest canon

my little pony au with joel as rainbow dash and etho as applejack. no one can argue with me on this as a certified mlp lover this is CANON

[smashcandle]

Me with my non traffic friends

[smashcandle]

Mumbo the only person to ever really betray you was your own fence posts can u please calm down sir