#skullyuu

I love the Skully x Yuu ship more than the canon (is it cannon? Im not sure anymore...) Malleyuu ship.

I mean yeah, he is a ghost and is probably older in that form, but I just love them. They have such adorable interactions, the way Skully cares about Yuu and gives to their words.

Now, I'm not saying Malleus doesn't do that. He does, there are so many interactions that could be seen as romantic between them in the chapters and in events.

But something about Skully understanding us and being sweet to us, makes my heartrate go up to a hundred. Because Skully is/was a human, while Malleus isn't. He doesn't feel the same about things as we do. And yes, Skully is the weird, anti-social kid, but he is still so sweet to his core.

The late wind howled against the newly restored windows of Ramshackle, but the warmth inside came from flickering jack-o’-lanterns, spiced cider, and the laughter of one annoyed but doting Yuu Kinsley.

Skully J. Graves was pacing the floor, semi-transparent now—his edges blurry, ghostly. Each step left a faint trail of spiritual mist like frost underfoot.

"I told you not to touch it, didn't I?!" He hissed, voice cracking like dry leaves. His fingers hovered nervously over the talisman on his brooch. The paper had torn slightly near the bottom corner. One of the sacred cinnabar characters had smudged, bleeding into the next like runny ink in the rain.

"It wasn't me," Yuu said gently, he was looking for the supplies that Sam gifted him if the ink smudges. "Grim probably rolled over it while napping on your lap."

Skully’s glare was faint—literally. His face flickered in and out, like an old TV signal fighting static. "I'm going to disappear. Fully disappear. I can feel the veil pulling—"

"You’re not dying again," Yuu interrupted, placing a hand right over where Skully’s chest should be. It passed through once, twice—then finally made contact when Skully concentrated, his breath hitched.

Yuu gave a small smile. "Come on. Sit down. I'll fix it."

Skully blinked. "You—you'll rewrite the seal?"

"I still have those supplies Sam gave me. And you've taught me enough by now to trace the characters right." Yuu remarked, giving the floor a tap with his foot to invite Skully to sit.

Skully hesitated like a child about to cry, then slowly sat on the floor, cross-legged, his coattails pooling around him like a midnight puddle. His hands were trembling—either from fear or something deeper.

Yuu knelt beside him with careful precision. He dipped a brush into a mix of black candle soot and pumpkin ash. As he began to trace the kanji over the frayed talisman, Skully watched with an expression that could only be described as reverent.

"You always do this," Skully whispered. "Patch me back together."

Yuu didn’t pause. "You always fall apart right before Halloween. Someone's gotta make sure you last until then."

The final stroke glowed faintly. Skully gasped as his body solidified, color returning to his form. His brooch gleamed again, the air thick with the scent of sweet smoke and sugar.

Then he flung his arms around Yuu, dramatic and over-the-top, but genuine. "My Queen! My darling craftsman!"

"You're gonna smudge it again," Yuu muttered—but he didn’t pull away.

Both , Yuu and Skully getting bullied by NRC boys.

So when other working for the Halloween this two just having a nice conversation.

Karma for NRC boys , let's have fan while they trying to find way back to NRC( like Yuu tried to get back home , but they always forgetting about our trouble)

We will talk about The nightmare before Christmas with Skully . He will be happy , we will be happy , NRC boys will be annoyed.

After how they treated Yuu I wouldn't forgive them. Skully at least was kind.

(I hope they will forget us in Halloween town, I don't want to go back to NRC)

Reference for art:

Note: Give this a title since it's just a self-indulgence i happen to write.

Since the day they met, she hated him.

She hated how smooth he was, suddenly approaching her and greeting her with a kiss on the hand.

She hated his tall and skinny figure, towering over her like a birch tree over a bonsai plant.

She hated how his striking amber eyes would lit up in glee and curiosity.

She hated his thin, cracked, dark lips, yet wondered how they would feel upon her own lips.

She hated his voice, whenever he spoke, he sounded so melodic...it itched her ears to listen to him talk about his passions.

But most of all, she hated how of all people, she was the one he chose to follow around.

She hated him even more so when he cried out in range and frustration upon being confronted of his misdeeds.

She had ran to him that time, pulling him into her arms as she screamed at the others about how they weren't any better.

She hated when he came to her apologizing, she caressed his cheeks and whispered to him reassuring words.

And she hated when he kissed her hands tenderly for the last time before she walked into the tomb, never looking back.

Now, as she stood before the painting on the wall, she hated how her heart ached deeply by just looking at it.

She hated the tears that slipped from her eyes as she clutched her chest and wept on the floor.

But she hated everything less when icy, cold, hands wrapped themselves behind as soft whispers in the dark soothed her.