So I Got Into Grad School Today With My Shitty 2.8 Gpa And The Moral Of The Story Is Reblog Those Good

so, between the jimmy board game streams and this tommy video, i have discovered that i like grian’s bit of “i am long-suffering and do not want to be here“. because it’s just. a very funny bit. it also clearly only comes out when grian is surrounded by other people who are naturally more chaotic than him. he just transforms from the hermitcraft “teehee i am a knife roomba” to “i am the responsible adult in this room and i am not happy about it”.

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.

The watchers finally thinking they're gonna get a meal from Smajor as they find him full on sobbing in the void. Only to take a bite and recoil in absolute disgust as they find pure love. He's so so happy GGG is on the mend, he's clutching Pearl's jacket so hard, he's star blush glittering happy and full of absolute love for those woman!!!!

Exactly.

aAaAaAaAaAaAaAaA

Itchy veins.

Honestly, same.

currently thinking about how i was like “i absolutely love etho and joel’s dynamic it’s so cute, but why do i hate iskall and joel’s dynamic? why is it so uncomfortable lol”

mother gothel is an amazing representation of how rich people want everything for themselves and never want to share, even though sharing means that others get the thing too and they still get just plenty from it.

why is mother gothel rich you ask?

Rapunzel's hair must have taken so much maintenance to not be a tangled mess

she has no actual job yet somehow manages to raise a more or less well rounded child (rapunzel can somehow read, paint, clean, knit, cook, do ballet, chess, pottery, and sew? even if rapunzel somehow managed to figure out all that on her own, she'd definitely have had to have gotten the materials for rapunzel, which is expensive) and live a decent lifestyle

Eats things like hazelnut soup. Hazelnuts are not cheap, and hazelnut soup seems like something only a rich person would do

I was like "flower court but without jimmy" one day because idk i wasn't vibing jimmy that day anyway blazegills nom they're such cute

fire and water! What could go wrong??

-🍫

@tvvigjuice

Mob Psycho 100 x Life Series AU

Grian is a powerful young esper who is indebted to a con man Scar. Along with their spirit friend mumbo they navigate a dangerous world of espers who want to control Grian.