#skizzpulseza

Three people dedicated to the pairing of skizzpulseza

Which is of course Skizz/Impulse/Philza

And I can't be ASSED to incorporate all of Philza's lore but the possibilities

Phil on a lonely road after another battle, another story that ended in blood and death for everyone BUT him

Phil when he can hear but cannot yet comprehend the whispers of Death in her mercy and kindness, coming upon two soldiers camping at a Crossroads

he looks upon them and knows they are not human

And they look at him with eyes older than he can fathom and he knows they see him the same

and then one says, "Hey, man. You need a place to sit?"

So he sits.

They don't ask him questions. They don't fill the silence. They tend the fire, murmur to one another in dead languages Phil wasn't even alive for the conception of, and when the stew is hot they give him a bowl.

He moves on in the morning, when the dew has streaked the grime of battle.

One gives him a cloak.

The other gives him bread and cheese in a wrap.

They go east, and he goes west, and he doesn't see them again for a very long time.

The next battle is easier. This time he meets them at a tavern, a ramshackle thing at the center of a drunken celebration of victory.

They aren't surprised to see him, and Philza finds he isn't surprised to see them, either.

This time he gets names, and is tucked between them under the stars.

Impulse and Skizriel (just call me Skizz.)

They are old. Older than redstone, than the nether portals, than time. If there were words for what they are, those words are long dust on some decaying world; but one shines white and bright and cold, and the other dark and deep and hot, and so 'angel' and 'demon' are best.

"So," Skizz asks Philza, "did you know you're Death marked?"

"Not in a bad way," Impulse hastens to assure him. "She Knows you. She- wants to offer comfort, if she can."

Philza cannot keep the wryness from his smile as he says, "Oh really?"

"'Dop he thinks we're full of shit."

"It's okay, Skizz. He'll learn."

So it goes, as the millenia unfold; another battle, another journey, another meeting. Sometimes it is only one or the other, and they always look a bit..lopsided, like they're missing a piece.

Phil does meet Death, after a fashion.

She is beautiful and eternal and kind and she holds his heart in her hands and says, "its okay that you thought he was lying. He's a very good liar."

She makes of him an angel, and with his wings he soars.

After Phil leaves Dream, after he steps over more graves than a man should ever dig, Skizz finds him on another lonely road.

"Go away."

"No can do, chief."

"Leave."

"Nope."

It comes to blows but Skizz is made of void and stardust, and he is not so brittle that anything like an Angel of Death could scratch his surface.

When Philza falls screaming into his arms, Skizz holds him warm and safe, and he does not let go for a day or a week or a meaningless lifetime. Their feathers mingle, coal and calcite, moon and starless sky.

Skizz does fill the silence, then. He talks- about anything and everything.

"Where is Impulse?" Phil murmurs.

"He's safe."

"You should be with him."

"He wanted you safe, too."

Skizz sees him off at the next world hub, kisses him long and soft and warm in the shelter of his wings which are by necessity just that much bigger than Phil's.

Philza doesn't ask when he will see him again. He takes the next portal and is gone.

Word comes after all the flowers bloom and die, after the children are grown and the monuments built. Impulse has been repaying old debts, building new worlds, and Skizz is with him at last and will you come visit?

Will you sit with us somewhere besides a lonely road?

Will you let us hold you and tell you all the secret wonders without blood in your talons and smoke in your nose?

Philza, tired and worn, his axe in need of sharpening and Sneeg looking after things, says 'yes. Yes.'

He does.

Beneath the soft blue of a sky that can't ever hold a candle to Skizz's thousand blinking eyes, wrapped in the warmth of a sun that is as gentle as Impulse is sharp, Philza says, "is that a train?"

His angel and his demon laugh, Skizz says, "wait until you see the hourglass, dude!" And Philza leans on Impulse's broad shoulder and listens to the whispering of Death, who is kind on this soil of old soldiers.

-

Impulse and Skizz have fallen into routine, pretending to be lost tourists, or kind club members when they meet Phil for the first time.

Phil never remembers when they first meet, its the nature of his curse, but slowly he remembers bits and pieces of his past lives.

So imagine Philza after he got possessed by the Ender king, a dieity from the end dimension in his hardcore world. He's hurting badly and scared of himself. The Ender king completely destroyed his wings when he left Phil’s body.

He calls upon Rose, the nature deity who was trying to protect Phil from the Ender king. Phil asks her to take him to Hermitcraft.

Why hermitcraft? Phil heard that Skizz recently became a hermit and he misses both Skizz and Impulse (also there is no way Xisuma would ever let a corrupting entity like the Ender king into hermitcraft)

So Rose whisks him away to Hermitcraft, dropping him off at Magic Mountain. Phil finds Impulse’s bed and curls up on it, too tired to actually go find his partners.

Skizz finds Phil first, he had the idea to sneak into Imp’s base to surprise him, but instead he finds his beat-up crow partner.

Skizz immediately grabs Phil to properly address his beat up wings. Impulse comes in partway and is immediately dragged into helping Phil.

Also personal headcannon that if they were in double life, Skizz and Phil would have been soulmates

After Phil’s ender possession arc and the end of QSMP, Phil went straight to hermitcraft. Usually spouses/romantic partners aren't allowed on for more than a week, but Xisuma took one look at Phil, who was on the verge of his 9th panic attack, and personally brought him to Skizz and Impulse, saying that Phil is staying on hermitcraft untill he is better.

The first few weeks were spent mostly in bed at either Skizz or Impulse’s base. It turns out that having a deity from the end dimension possesses you and use your body like a meat puppet for three days, ending with the deity doing as much damage as it is forced out of your mind isn't very good for you.

However as Phil recovered mentally and physically, he did some more touristy stuff. Impulse and Skizz gladly paraded him around so everyone could meet their wonderful husband, and Phil made sure to get photos with Scar and Etho to lord over Tubbo’s head.

Skizz (apart of the Poe Poe) is Philza’s double standard because “he’s not corrupt!” (He says as Skizz accepts a bribe in the background)

Phil, being an avian, is small and light. This makes flying easier.

Impulse is a demon and Skizz is an angel, they are built like brick walls. (Skizz doesn't need to be light to fly, his angelic nature covers that)

This means that Phil loves perching on his boyfriends’ shoulders. It takes a lot of force to make them wobble, so Phil often half tackles them when he perches (its his sign of affection)

Once, Skizz tried perching on Phil for sillies. This went wrong for a couple of reasons: 1. Skizz does not have the bird-like legs and feet needed for staying anchored. 2. Phil has hollow bones, meaning it takes less force to break them. 3. Skizz is heavy, and while Yes Phil is strong, he could not sustain Skizz’s weight.

Needless to say, Skizz went crying to Impulse with a pancakeza in his arms. Phil broke a few ribs and Skizz felt bad for days

Live Philza cam:

That’s completely fair because when I first came up with the ship it was “haha what if old man yaoi?” And then I realized I liked it for real and now they have me taken hostage.

anyways Skizzpulseza for the win, they’ve never met but they would be cool together

Anyways excerpt from the Skizzpulseza fic i’m writing where Phil escaped a toxic relationship and took refuge at his brother Jimmy’s ranch, where Impulse and Skizz are staying temporarily:

“Nice to meet you, Jimmy's brother. I’m Skizz.” he stuck out his worn and scarred hand for Phil to shake.

Phil looked at the hand and released his own from the white knuckled grip he had on the coffee mug. (When had he started holding it so tight? Was it when he heard Skizz scream?) He slowly reached out to shake Skizz’s hand. It was warm and rough with calluses, the man must work with his hands a lot, Phil decided. Skizz's grip was firm but gentle as he shook Phil’s smaller shaky hand. “I’m Phil…” he murmured as he slowly retreated his hand back to his mug.

the rarepair struggles but on the plus side, it means you can write the outcomes as how you want