#nickkkwritesstuff

[nickkkwritesstuff]

Waking up dry, waking up dusty (Feeling remorse, feeling thirsty)

Summary: Raph wakes up from a nightmare, heart pounding, breath shaking. He's used to pretending he's fine, brush it off and swallowing it down. This time he's not alone.

But maybe he never was.

Title from "Always Ascending" by Franz Ferdinand

(F! Raph x Traximus, lone man au)

He wakes up with a gasp.

A scream choked on his dry throat makes it hard to breathe, tears unshed blur his vision, rising the panic on the back of his mind.

The dream is already slipping away, but the feeling clings onto him like a second skin, panic tightens his chest while his hand tries to claw it open to release pressure. The blanket sticks to his sweaty skin and it's just too much – 

“Breathe” A low, steady voice says.

Raph jumps on his spot, his remaining eye desperately tries to find the voice next to him, he’s half expecting he’ll find one of the demons that haunt him in his sleep–

Instead, he finds Traximus, sitting next to him, hands hovering over his shoulder, unsure if he should break the distance between them. His eyes, dimly lit by the night, wait patiently for him to catch his breath.  

Raph jerkily nods. His pulse still hammers in his ears, but he forces down gulp through his closed throat and exhales.

In and out.

In and out.

“I’m fine.” he finally rasps out. He almost believes it. Almost. But the shakiness of his voice betrays him, he’s still too winded up, too wired, and Trax sees it. “It was just a dream.”

Trax shifts in his place, finally resting a hand on Raph’s shoulder, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles. “Doesn’t look like a dream to me.”

The triceraton’s voice is steady as ever. Raph clenches his jaw and turns his gaze away, his hand stops clasping his chest to fidget with the blankets.

A long silence stretches between the two of them, neither break it, they both stay.

After a few minutes (or maybe hours, Raph thinks), he finally mutters “It’s stupid.”

Trax doesn’t respond; instead he waits for Raph to continue. 

“We were back in the… Kraang war. It– I just–” His voice cracks. “I saw them die again, I could never make it on time… They always tried to reach for me but– I couldn’t do anything.”

Raph grips the blankets tighter. “I know it’s not my fault, they made their choices, but I cannot help but think that I… that I could've done more: talk to them, hold them back, anythin’...”

A single tear runs down his face. He quickly wipes it away. He hates this feeling, the phantom weight of things he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t fix. His breathing, while slower, is uneven, catching on his throat.

“Then I woke up.”

Traximus doesn’t respond, he doesn’t look away or pretends to not notice. Instead, after a moment of quiet consideration, he moves closer.

Raph doesn’t notice when Trax moves just slightly closer. Not looming, not overwhelming. Just there. Solid. Unshakable.

Then he offers a hand. 

Raph only stares at it. Fist still clutching onto his blanket. He knows what it is. He can pretend he doesn’t need it, just shrug it off and bury everything down like he always does.

Or–

He could take it.

He hesitates, fingers twitch, then slowly he reaches out.

Palms press against each other, calloused fingers rubbing together, gripping onto thick and worn out skin. His digits get caught in the remains of old scars and burns, Trax’s heart aches in sympathy and Raph can feel it, for once, he feels understood.

And something about the way he does it, the certainty, the understanding in his voice, his movements, hits Raph deeper than he expects. 

A sob escapes his lips, then tears won't stop coming.

Traximus doesn’t react much, just stays still, letting Raph set the pace. But there is something grounding about it, about the steady warmth beneath their skin, the quiet, unspoken I’m here.

After a couple of minutes, Raph exhales, the tension on his shoulders eases just a little.

“You really don’t gotta do this, y’know.” The snapper says.

“I don’t do things I do not wish to do.”

Raph snorts. The ghost of a smile tugs the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine. Trax exhales, slow but deliberate. 

“I have seen many wars. Many battles.”

The soldier searches for Raph’s eyes, with his free hand he reaches and slowly pulls his face up to meet his own. His thumb wipes a stray tear and takes a moment to absorb Raph’s old and scarred face, he looks so tired and sad but there’s a spark still in there, willing to keep going and protect his whole world, even if it costs him everything.

“But the worst ones do not end when the fighting stops.”

Traximus watches him for a moment before shifting. His voice, when he speaks again, is quieter.

“You’re not alone in this, Raphael.”

He breathes out. “Yeah” The fear is still there, but the weight on his chest feels lighter. “Yeah, I know.”

The words linger in the air, settling on Raph’s bones in a way that makes his very core ache, but not in a bad way. In a real way.

They sit in silence after that. A comfortable silence. For a long time, neither of them move.

Raph lets out a long yawn, and subconsciously tries to rub his eyes with his lost arm. The exhaustion is starting to weight on him again, adrenaline wearing out.

Trax hesitates but ever so slowly and gently lowers down on their shared bed, he adjusts the pillows and pats the spot next to him. 

The snapper lays down, his head rests on Trax’s chest, hearing the heartbeat underneath, it ushers him gently into sleep. Trax does an one armed hug, his hand scratching Raph’s shell between his spikes in a way that the turtle seems to enjoy as he quietly rumbles. He doesn’t comment on it.

“You ever get tired of bein’ right all the time?” Raph nudges. Trax chuckles, shaking his head.

“It’s a great burden, but I manage.” He adjusts his position. “Come on, rest now, you need it.”

With a long sigh, Raph obliges. For a second, he wants to argue. He isn’t used to this. Someone else watching out for him. Someone else offering their presence, their protection, their understanding. He wants to say I don’t need you to do all of this. But he swallows those words and tells his brain to shut up, because, for once, maybe just this once… he does.

“Yeah… okay.”

Traximus doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything else.

He just stays.

And somehow that’s enough.

Raph’s eyes drift closed. Sleep doesn’t come easy, but this time, nightmares don’t follow.

And when he stirs a few hours later, in that quiet space between dreams and waking, the first thing he sees is Trax’s sleeping form, still there.

For once, Raph doesn’t feel alone. And, for once, he lets himself believe that maybe he never was.

[pi-cat000]

some mystery skulls ficlets

Some of my favourite msa short fanfics/drabbles that I read this year (well, the ones I could remember off the top of my head and track down because there were definitely more of them). 

Thank you fic writers for writing and making 2020 that little bit more enjoyable because it was definitely needed and very much appreciated. Good luck with your future projects! :)

..

MSA Drabble: Of Time and Love: Post-Cave (a while into the future, Lewis didn’t show up again in this one). (Vithur). By @artisticnutcase

Just a quiet, nicely paced fic about Vivi and Arthur working through their affection for one each other in the wake of Lewis’s death. 

Protecting and Wards:  It's been some time after they were all reunited, and the small team of ghost-hunters have finally started to pick up cases again. (Lewthur). By  @nemesis-is-my-middle-name

A little bit of hurt and little bit of comfort. Lewis works through some FEELINGS and everything works out in the end. 

Holiday ficlet thing: Lewvithur fluff. By @roseverdict

Arthur downplays injuries and Lewis and Vivi are having none of it. Very cute. 

Waking up : ‘Ghost cuddles’ but like very angsty. (Lewthur). By @eagefrien 

All of the angst, slightly melancholic, with a side order of body-horror and mystery. I want to know more.

Green Tinged Memories:  “You do remember,” he hissed, shifting close into Arthur's space. He had to remember. There was no satisfaction in revenge if Arthur didn't understand why it was happening. “It's in there; I'll show you.” By @strivia

Lewis finds out what actually happened in the cave and struggles to come to terms with what he’s done. A nice slice of mental anguish. 

To Comfort a Grieving Ghost:  The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. While Arthur is not good at comforting, he wants to ease his sadness. By @nickkkwritesstuff

Just a soft fic of Arthur trying to comfort Lewis in the aftermath of everything. A bit sad but also hopeful. 

The moment Arthur’s fingers brushed the glass of his heart, he knew.:  Set during Future. By @arthurtristankingsmen

When Arthur touches Lewis’s heart Lewis feels all of the feelings.  Love the descriptions of Lewis’s thought process as he properly realises who Arthur is and what he means. 

...

 Let me know if any of the links don’t work so I can fix them. 

Also reblog with your own favourite fics because I know I missed so many of them. 

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“To Comfort a Grieving Ghost”

Ao3 link.

Summary:

The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. While Arthur is not good at comforting, he wants to ease his sadness.

He fell on top of a pile of empty boxes, way softer than the stone spikes he saw before the ghost let go. Noises were muffled, distant even, his head was dizzy and his vision blurry. It all had happened too fast. He was held above the cliff, a massive ghostly hand was the only thing that kept him from dying impaled by a rock, Arthur was going to die, he knew he should be dead, was this finally his sweet end?

Arthur took a deep breath to calm his nerves, instinctively his hand went to his forehead and his eyes fixated on something on the floor, when his vision came back to normal he realized he was looking at the ghost’s heart locket. 

It was broken with hairline fractures across the gray surface, it beat at a slow pace, differently than when the ghost -Lewis?- had held him back at the edge. What was that shiny locket?  

He didn’t think twice, powered by curiosity, his metal arm reached for it, he licked the locket with his thumb until it clicked under the pressure. Like a jackbox, it opened without a warning, Arthur’s heart skipped a beat and gasped by reflection. 

A picture.

A picture of both Vivi and Lewis. He held her close, both laughing, happy. Arthur’s stomach twisted. 

So it was really him. 

The ghost who tried to kill him just a few minutes ago was Lewis. 

Arthur held the picture closer, he swore he had seen it somewhere before, it was like a Deja Vù. Though, something was missing in the picture, but the blurriness didn’t let him see it clearly, why was it blurry now?

The heart shaped thing escaped from his grasp before he could figure out what was happening. He looked up to meet an angry -and slightly blushed- specter. Arthur crawled a few feet away from the wraith until a wall of boxes blocked his path, please don’t hurt me, the scared mechanic prayed.

He gulped hard, he almost choked on his own saliva. Eyes wide open followed the sturdy figure take a few steps -or the equivalent floating- towards the open gate of the truck. He abruptly stopped. 

The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. The blond man shrunk for protection, closed his eyes waiting for Lewis to attack him at any given moment. Nothing hit him, instead he heard a soft sniff. 

Arthur’s mouth dropped, was he crying-?

The ghost shaked a little and sobbed quietly to himself as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear him tear down. The scrawny mechanic froze, his entire body stayed still, he wasn’t even breathing, Arthur began to panic. What was he supposed to do? Run away and leave him there, feeling miserable? Ask him what happened? Comfort him?

He had the chance to escape and check on Vivi and Mystery, he could leave him behind right now if he hurried up. But on the back of his mind, Arthur knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

Gathering the courage he didn’t have, Arthur closed the distance they had, a hand lifted ready to be placed on the ghost’s shoulder…

“Lewis?”

The ghost growled at him, Arthur backed a little in surprise. Air vacated his lungs for a moment. What’s next, Kingsman?, Arthur smacked himself mentally.

“Are you- are you okay...?”

No response, the ghost sighed. It echoed very deep into his mind, it was terrifying how the sigh stung inside his head. Arthur frowned, something in his chest refusing to give up. 

Arthur’s eyes darted among the shelves, looking for something, anything to distract the ghost with, literally any single thing was useful. They finally landed back on the heart the wraith held between his hands. The image had changed.

Now not only Vivi and Lewis were there but also Mystery and himself were included. Right! That was missing, Arthur thought, realizing where he had seen it before. He half smiled at the nostalgia.

“Hey, Lew,” the mechanic called gently. The ghost didn’t even mind. “do you remember- remember when we took that... pic?”

Arthur waited for no answer, he immediately sat down back-to-back and legs crisscrossed, the thin mechanic was terrified what he was doing, he moved and talked with confidence despite not having any but his subconscious had decided without his permission that he wasn’t moving from there until the ghost ceased his tears or he killed him with no mercy, whatever happened first. 

“I do.” He continued. “It was on Vivi’s birthday, she got a- a new camera, she was so excited that she almost broke it. How clumsy of her.”

The mechanic laughed. “We took that photo thrice. The first because she left the lense cap on and the second one because I blinked. When she finally took it right she printed it and posted it everywhere. She was so happy.”

Temperature dropped, he felt chills from behind and he couldn’t help but warm himself with his vest. The star pin poked him, Arthur unpinned it and held it before his eyes.

“Ah! Also, I found the pin you gave me. I’m sorry that I lost it but I promised- I promised I’ll find it so I did! It was under Lance’s couch.” Arthur brushed some dust off the star’s acrylic, fidgeting a little.

“Y’know? I- I found it after you- you uh... went missing. I thought this would- would be a sign that I could find you and I... I kept it as a promise to you, that, no matter what, I would bring you back home.” He pinned it again with a sad smile.

Arthur felt shifting behind his back, the ghost relaxed a little. 

And so, Arthur trailed off. He kept talking about what he missed, about the Peppers, Vivi doing something embarrassing, and about good moments they all had together.  

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty. Usually he was the one who was comforted, he didn’t had the touch like Vivi or Lewis, who were better at listening and understanding, and had always been there for him, even in the latest nights they had sat down with him and hear him go on for hours and hours until he had fallen asleep; they were patient with their friend.

Arthur wanted to repay him somehow.

However, he didn’t know how to comfort a ghost.

But he knew how to comfort Lewis.

Lewis, who had been his friend almost all his life, Lewis who was safety and balance when he most needed it, who had lent him a hand when Arthur stumbled down. The friend who helped him to get back on his feet and was the gentlest and kindest person he ever met. Arthur knew that Lewis and he could help him.

He just needed to find him.

On the other side, probably Lewis didn’t even want company, his company, after he tried to murder Arthur, he supposed he was the last person the ghost wanted to see, but he ran out of ideas. Sitting there with him and not letting him bare with his feelings alone was the best thing he had come to. Talk to him so he knows he isn’t alone. 

Arthur threw a glance at his friend. His back served as a firm barrier between them, he was still stiff. The mechanic’s shoulders fell as well as his head, what else could he do?

At this point, he was tired of trying. He only had the strength to do one last push and see if the ghost responded to his attempt of comfort. If it didn’t work, then Arthur was clueless.

One last push…

“Where were you, Lew?” He muttered, burying his face in his hands. “I looked for you everywhere. But it was like you- you just poofed out of this world.”

The blond man recalled the long nights driving across the state, looking for places where his friend could have gone to, dealing with Vivi and her ‘go to bed, now’s. Many nights spent on his laptop looking for clues but none of them gave results.   

“I… I missed you.” Arthur brushed his hair with his flesh hand. “I missed you, Lew.”

Arthur’s head shocked against the dark suit, closed his eyes tiredly and gave deep slow breaths. He could feel the ghost’s back relaxing once again, the spectre’s shoulders fell entirely and his arms lowered almost completely. Arthur straightened up quickly.

The mechanic turned to see what he had done. The ghost’s imposing frame looked weak, about to break down to the softest blow. 

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty, but he totally knew how to give the best hugs. He wasn't suffocating like Vivi or crushing like Lewis, instead he held a steady and supportive grip, just like his uncle did when he had nightmares or the phantom pain was unbearable. Lance wasn’t a tactile person, but knew how to hold somebody when they needed.

Arthur was on his knees now, unsure if a hug was the right thing to do. Lewis looked so down and the mechanic couldn’t just stand there forever. 

Shyly, one arm went under Lewis’ sleeve to his chest and the other one lied across his upper back to his shoulder. The ghost jumped a little but didn’t protest against him, instead, he fell under the embrace. Arthur peeked up above the wraith’s suit to see the loket, it was closed now but still held carefully on top of his lap.

The large hand placed the loket on his chest where it floated just a few inches above the fabric. Arthur buried his face on the black suit. It was when Arthur realized how Lewis was warm, not like the human warmth but like an overheated lamp or a small campfire seen from the distance. 

Suddenly, Arthur’s arms weren’t around his friend anymore but a pair of giant ones lifted him up and tangled around his torso and his cheek was warm. Arthur opened his eyes to meet a purple tie in front of him, Lewis was hugging him back.

A single, nervous yet happy small laugh came out of his mouth. Then he returned the hug. 

“I missed you too.”

That was all Arthur needed to hear to shed a tear. And so both friends felt safe under each other’s embrace.

[nickkkwritesstuff]

Day 11: Name

((I’m so late for this aaa i didn’t know how to start this nor how to finish but here ya go, enjoy ;) it’s 1 am))

Vivi massaged her temples frustrated, the screen in front of her eating her brain and questioning her intelligence once again. She sat on the floor, legs closed and back firmly pressed against one side of her bed looking towards the open door of her bedroom at the apartment she and Arthur shared. 

There she was, hidden among piles of tomes and encyclopedias. Her hands fidgeting with the edges of her sweater and matching skirt as her ocean eyes fixated on her laptop like deadly daggers. Vivi fought to concentrate on the chase, one that shouldn’t bother her as much as it did, but the beat of a heart kept stealing her attention like a fire alarm.

Resting on top of her night table, a shiny golden locket drumbed loudly enough to echo on her chest. The girl gave it a quick glance, just a little look to ease the need to open it. Oh, words would never hold enough power to describe how much she hated that anchor.

Vivi could hear the owner of such trinked luring around their kitchen, unbothered by her thoughts, he kept his distance from her after being aware of how she felt towards him. It hadn’t been long ago when the wraith (what was his name again?) had rejoined their small group just after he had come to terms with Arthur, they got along fine, both having to get used to each other again but things were working out slowly, painfully slowly, however Vivi wasn’t buying any of this, the ghost and her friend told her the most heartwarming stories about the couple they once were, and he sounded like a nice guy, really, but the hatred she had seen on his eyes and the way the ghost had tried to willingly kill Arthur not once but twice didn’t mix well.

As for that, the ghost had trusted Vivi his anchor as both a promise and a guarantee.

He (she had his name on the tip of her tongue) had guarantee that he wouldn’t try to hurt their scrawny blond mechanic ever again, and if he ever did, she guarded his anchor to perform a clean exorcism and get rid of him for forever; and he also confirmed that she would find the answers to her questions inside of it.

But Vivi was afraid of the truth.

Arthur had tried many times to itch her to open it, Mystery had done the same a few times last month and they had offered her to confirm her memories, just in chase they were incorrect and the ghost tried to brainwash her. 

Vivi cracked her knuckles and returned back to work, ignoring the loud thum next to her. She pressed the keys harder than before to mute her thoughts but she interrupted herself when she catched her bobbing her head to the rhythm of the anchor. Vivi closed the computer angrily fighting the urge to throw it out of the window and sat down on her bed.

Her eyes landed on the golden heart, imitating the pulse of a real organ. Her hands stretched to welcome it onto her hold but she freezed and withdrawned them to her sides.

What if her world stumbled down again?

What if she realized how wrong she was?

What if she didn’t like what she saw?

Vivi couldn’t bear to see what she knew fall again. Everything was working out, she was fine with the life she had, why wasn’t it enough? It should be enough, why can’t it be enough?

Vivi looked at the anchor and wished to rip it in pieces and end her suffering. Her hands once again reached for it and this time she felt the smooth surface on her delicate touch. Her thumb ran across the cover like it was made of glass and found her reflection like a perfect mirror.

“Is everything okay?” A deep voice called from the door forcing her to look up and meet the skeleton’s face. He probably felt her touching his heart.

She bit her lips. “Yes, it’s fine,” She assured, placing the locket on her lap. “I just- ah”

The girl failed to explain herself. “I’m wondering how things were before… y’know.” Vivi moved a little and patted next to her inviting the spirit to sit. He placed himself on the other end of the bed, giving her as much space as he could and did his best to look smaller. “What if everything’s different? How am I supposed to react? What should I do with that? It’s just too much.”

Vivi’s chest tightened as she trailed off inside her mind, maybe she was overthinking it after all, but a large hand on her back gently pulled her off her thoughts before they choked her.

He sighed (or did the equivalent for a ghost) and retrieved his anchor from her grip. “It’s okay if you want to take your time,” the spirit fidgeted a little with the locket on his hands. “and we’re not going to push you to go through that. We were friends once, who says we can’t be friends again?”

It wasn’t a smile what the ghost pulled but it was close enough, one gentle but awkward smile. Vivi’s guess was that it would look better with his human disguise on (the one she couldn’t see or she’ll black out.)

She placed her hands on top of his and applied some pressure until she heard a soft click and the anchor opened like a book ready to be read. “But I want to know what I lost.”

The last came out more like a whisper to her ears, not sure if the ghost had heard her, but Vivi did not care. She guided his hands back to her lap to take a look inside the locket. It contained a single picture of the group, smiling as they never had and squished together to fit in the small frame.

Vivi felt like she had passed through a wall, one by one she saw memories long lost and recent adventures she would have never imagined, it all felt true and right and nostalgic until she was forced back into reality.

She was sitting staring at a wall, crying; the ghost panicking silently next to her unsure to pull her on a hug or lay her on the bed. Vivit turned to look at the wraith, recognition filling her eyes.

“Lewis?” She gasped and her world shattered again.

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Shaky Hands”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls.

The chills behind his back only grew colder as he approached to the cliff. 

His legs weren’t his own anymore and his thoughts were muffled distant to actually hear them. Only his darkened eyes remained awaken and vivid.

Arthur tried to pull himself back, he fought the fogginess of his bones, but it seemed to get worse, where was he going anyway?

Green filled his poor vision, tinted in the wall that he was already getting tired of it, making his throat sick. 

A hand raised at his left when purple made its way in front of him. He was shaking, harder and harder, his legs felt like if they were going to give up his weight anytime soon, but he kept walking regardless. 

He felt a push, soft fabric pressed against his skin that it rosed terribly wrong inside his thigh  chest.

Breathing became hard, air was thin and his heart beated a hole out of his skin. Then he woke up, a shaky and invisible hand raised at his left. The limb wasn’t there, but the phantom was very present.

He closed his eyes and hoped for the ocean of blankets to eat him once again.  

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Explosion”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls.

A heartbreaking wail ran across the long corridors of the mansion, fire gutted all over the rooms and a short-lived rage set itself free in an act of ache that grew as a pain between his ribs.

The ghost floated down to floor-level, feet touching the pinkish-red carpet, a hand resting on the wall for support and the other one clenching his anchor in a instinctive movement; thinking that with the pressure his pain would fade away, but with every heartbeat his body stung in compass.

Lewis tried to get himself to regain control, he imitated a deep breath, however, with no lungs the air didn’t even entered his dead projection. He growled in frustration. 

The phantom straighten up in a imposing form, a frown crossing his skull-y factions and bright pink eyes irradiating a restless fury. He looked himself in the mirror and hated what he saw.

A floating skull for face that didn’t gave a sign of who he was in life, a black suit with six rib-like bones holding it and tightening his hips; and a dull and hurt heart as a manifestation of his betrayed soul. Lewis couldn’t help but feel disconnected from that image. It wasn’t him, he remembered how he used to look back when he was alive, and that specter wasn’t it.

Then he felt it again. A burning rage coming from an unknown spot inside him. The warm inferno grew to his limbs, the fire on his head heightened and his hands were burning. The ghost could only stare frustrated at his hands, shaking by the force he was closing them, then frustration grew into stress, then into anger; it became bigger and Lewis couldn’t do much about his emotional distress but feel mad at him, at his lack of control over his emotions; it only served as fuel to his explosion.

If he could describe it, he would say a explosion hurted. It wasn’t a comfortable warmness, neither it could harm him but definitely he hated the pain and, most of all, he hated the cracks it caused to his anchor. Lewis avoided exploding as much as possible but the reminders of his unfair death and the fact that his murderer was still out there, living his life, was too hard to ignore. So when all the emotions accumulated he just simply exploded.

But it didn’t just involve that, it costed him. His ghostly servants quickly ran away, furniture burned up leaving ashes and the mansion’s walls and windows darkened and deteriorated notoriously. It was slowly becoming a cheap fair haunted house, and Lewis hated that.

Lewis hated being a ghost.

Just when he felt he couldn’t hold it anymore, a deadbeat jumped out of nowhere. He instinctively cupped it between his still burning hands. Confusion replaced madness as he looked how the blobbling purple ghost curled in a ball. It didn’t seem scared just like all the others, it looked rather comfy wrapped around his large hands, like if the fire was less painful and more like a cozy rug in front of a fireplace.

The specter rubbed with his thumb the sleepy soul as if it was a cat. It giggled, or at least made a giggly sound, it reminded him home. Lewis broke a smile across his face.

Soon, other deadbeats rushed to his arms. Floated around him, loving him, with their tiny arms they held him carely, just how his family used to do. Lewis soon forgot all about his sudden anger, what he wanted right now was the affect those little ghosts could bring him.

Lewis looked up to the mirror again, and was surprised to meet a very familiar face smiling directly at him.

Lewis, for the first time in two years, felt alive.

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Dragged Away”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls.

Summary: She may know a lot about a lot about supernatural stuff, but monsters under the bed aren’t Vivi’s speciality. 

When Vivi decided to attend the call earlier that morning thought it was going to be a easy chase. She didn’t certainly expected this.

This would have been easier if any of her teammates had come with her, but Arthur was helping at his uncle’s workshop again and Lewis was babysitting his sisters, both her boys asked her to wait for them and go together the next morning, but she said she’ll be fine as long as Mystery was with her.

When she arrived to the house and knocked at the door, her face dropped when the client told her that he was allergic to dogs and her canine companion would have to wait outside.

“Wait here, Mystery.” She patted his head. “I won’t be long.”

Her client was very... peculiar. He was a seven year old boy, skinny and jumpy. His glassy eyes practically begged her to stay and help him when she was about to reject his chase.

He guided her to a big, dark room. A bed pressed against a corner, a wood closet on the other side, and two windows very away from the bed so the lighting was very poorly.

“Alright, Elijah, what’s the problem?” Vivi lowered herself to the boy’s height.

“There’s a monster under my bed.” He simply said. “Every night it comes and pulls my hand, but it’s like it wants to drag me into a pool.”

Vivi thought it would be that Elijah kept pissing at night. She asked him to stay outside while she looked for the monster, he nodded and closed the door so she trusted her memory to not stumble.

She opened the closet, but only the warm clothes welcomed her, she checked the windows and the night filled her eyes, she last checked the bed.

The blue girl sat there, wondering if she should try a session with her spirit box, until something carefully grabbed her leg. Vivi gulped, it was cold, its fingers were long enough to hold her entire leg. She looked down and saw a dark hand reaching for her other leg, she tried to lift it up and avoid it but it was like if her shoes were glued to the floor, Vivi gasped.

With a single move of it wrist, she was down on the floor, her face smacked on the tiles leaving her very confused. A chill presented on her tummy, growing to her chest, she was being dragged.

Her eyes opened like dishes, with her hand Vivi tried to hold onto something, but everything was too far away for her, her nails desperately inserted themselves on the ground, but it was like if she was on ice.

Soon, her body was under a strange cover, wasn’t wet like a pool, however her movements were slow like if she was underwater.

“Mystery!” she last screamed. “Help!”

But it was too late.

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Gunpoint”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls.

Summary: When Lance notices the truck parked outside his store, he can’t help but sense danger.

“Click” 

His gun is loaded and ready to aim at whatever stands in front of him.

“Cling”

The bell sounds as Lance almost kicks the door open. His old hands grab the trigger, he only needs a target and soon he’ll draw a hole inside of it.

 “Bark”

He turns around, Vivi is on the floor, barely conscious at the feet of a tall lady whose skin is strangely blue, there’s blood on the floor. Lance aims at the stranger but a familiar voice call his attention.

“Lewis?”

Muffled and distant, but he hears it. That’s his unmistakable his nephew’s voice. He can perceive his alarming tone, Arthur’s in danger. Lance wants so desperately go where his boy is, but the pool of blood is also bothering his nerves.

He’s panicked. Lance is in the middle of both young adults, both in equal danger.

There’s a pair of terrified screamings and Lance shoots. 

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Human Shield”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls

Summary: Vivi serves as a solid barrier between her friend and a vengeful ghost.

Arthur was cornered and knew that the ghost behind him had the mechanic right where he wanted him. Frightened, all he could do was stare horrified and hope for his death to be quick and painless, but the burning fire the especter possessed said otherwise.

He closed his eyes, ready to welcome magenta flames all over himself, but a blue blur pushed between him and the flamethrower. Her arms thrown at her sides, shoulders up as if she was also afraid of what consequences her actions may have, skyful eyes shut not wanting to see the scene going in front of her, Vivi was there once more, loyal to her friends, like a guardian angel, watching over the ones she most cared.

The young man was relieved that his death has postponed a day more, however, when the ghost leaned closer to the blue girl, he decided it was time to run out of there.

Note: sorry for the wait xd, catched cold and couldn’t write a lot but i’ll be catching up this week! 

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“The Mysterious Misadventures of the Mystery Skulls”

Chapter 3: Interlude I “Lonesome Pair”

The door burst open as the teacher made her way to her desk, a pile of books depending on the grip of thin arms and a cup of coffee dangerously leaning its content on her other hand. Arthur watched the obnoxious Miss pass in front of him, she being ignorant of all the hate views on her way from her students. Mathematics wasn’t very welcomed at seven in the morning in a Monday.

Through the windows the sun made its way to Arthur’s face and escalated to the colorful walls of the tired classroom. Arthur lied at top of his desk, pencils and lose papers scattered on the floor at his feet grabbed his attention when he remembered how he had forgotten to do homework, but he couldn’t care less as his mind prefered to play “It’s My Life” at full volume not letting the class reach his ears. There was nobody that could stop him from floating away in a bubble, too far away where no math operations could break his head, in fact, he had nobody to wake him up when class was over, he had no friends, nobody to share lunch with or play after school, anyway Arthur couldn’t care less, he was happy after all as long as he thought he needed anybody in order to feel fine.

Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated on the song inside himself, vibrating at the tune of the bass and moving his fingers like he was playing a drum. The song had reached climax, he forced his eyes shut harder and taped his lap quietly as his brain sang louder and louder and his smile grew wider and wider. He filled his lungs with air like if he was about to scream but three knocks at the door popped his ball and, embarrassed that his classmates had witnessed his concert, he withdrawn into his seat. Everyone’s eyes were fixated on the door, through the small visor he was able to see a small part of the director’s bald head, “ they finally found out who put the gas bombs in the boy’s bathroom ” he thought. “ , this is the end of Arthur Kingsman. ”

The tall teacher opened the door, the children moved like worms in their seats making impossible to Arthur see what was in front of him, Arthur sat behind them all. When the door shut close, the green haired woman looked a little concerned, she opened her mouth to speak but no word came out. The students had returned to a calmer position but it was still impossible for Arthur to know what was happening in front of him.

“Class, today we’ll be having a new student…” her hand held something he couldn’t see. “Please say hello to Lewis, he doesn’t talks a lot… he’s new in town so he needs friends, be nice to him.” she forced a smile, well knowing that the new kid may never do friends.

Arthur almost choked on his own saliva, another kid had just joined? In the middle of the year? Also new in town? That gained Arthur’s complete attention, he moved to left and right trying to get a watch on the new kid. His view was short, as well as the new kid, he was small and looked a little chubby and dark skinned, purple hair that covered his eyes but the smile in his face said it all.

The teacher ordered Lewis to look for an empty space, bad luck for Arthur, the only available places were at both his sides. With short steps, the new kid made his way to Arthur’s left, he sat down and placed a pile of books, a red notebook and two pens on his desk.

Lewis waved friendly at him.

Arthur didn’t respond and looked away.

Read the rest on Ao3

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Bound”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Mystery Skulls.

Summary: A reborn orchid blooms on her palm, she knows they’re bound to met each other again, but this time she’ll finish the job.

White leaves fall like snow, blood drips from her cheek like rain and sweat runs her forehead like a river, but her head stands up, a deep frown shadowing her delicate features; she’s stubborn, the juboko thinks.

Behind her, the kitsune faints breathless. Shiromori lost this one, however her legs don’t move, she��s stuck on her place, hypnotised by her darkened blue eyes, the demon wants to rip her head off her neck. Only a growl scapes in frustration. 

She knows this isn’t the last time she’ll see that swordswoman.

                                                          ...

Shiromori is so close to reach him, only a few hours away from her position, she can smell his juicy blood, she can hear his heart beating peacefully. But the orchid that lays on the floor results familiar but it’s not until she sees the girl in front of her that she believes her intuition. 

The way she swings her bat and shakes her arms, her impulsive behavior sickens her. 

This time, Shiromori won’t make the same mistake, this is just a silly, little girl, it won’t take too much to end her.

Shiromori raised her scissors and buried them into flesh.

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“With The Right Amount Of Sugar.”

(I can’t find motivation to finish the next chapter of my fic so I kinda wrote this and thought on sharing this. Takes place before Ghost if you’re wondering, also kinda a little Vithur because they deserve love.) (.)

Slender hands shook their way through the cupboard, careful to not make too much noise, his fingers curled around the cracked old ceramic, the cold touched his warm fingertips and he melted with it hoping to ease his pain. The white hands took the mug out of its place and with a small clicking sound, he put it on the table. Next, his tired steps reached the coffee machine, he took the jar and watched how the liquid inside moved as if it wanted to make its way out, as if it was trapped or in jail, Arthur could relate with the coffee.

As hard as it was, with one hand he poured himself a cup of coffee, enough to drown on it, black as his thoughts and cold as his remaining hand. His gaze met the bitter and got lost on a sea of nothingness, was he even awake? He couldn’t tell when time right now felt like an illusion, and he wished he was living an illusion, a bad dream that went too far, but the sound of his heart beat constantly drumming at his ears dragged him to realize how real it all was, so he hated it.

He took a sip, it fell bitter into his stomach, it reached heavily his head but no amount of caffeine was enough to keep the sleepy young mechanic’s eyes open. Sip after sip, he finished his pool of coffee leaving only the dryish dust at the bottom of the cup, he moved the cup to his left, then to the right and saw sluggishly how it moved too, he tried imagine figures with the remainings, but the only thing he witnessed was a storm of shapeless bitterness. 

“Arthur, what are you doing awake?”

Vivi sleepy voice called from kitchen’s entrance, her pajamas always oversized hung from her shoulders and the way they were folded made clear that she had been asleep just a moment ago. Blue hair ran in waves all over her head marking the spot were she met the pillow. The young woman had been staying at his house as his personal nurse, she basically proclaimed herself his nurse and she won’t accept a no for answer, either way she’ll make her way inside Arthur’s room to make sure that he got at least eight minutes of sleep, it was easier letting her take care of him than dealing with his angry uncle.

“Nothing, I’m just… finishing stuff.” he stated placing the empty mug next to him. “I’ll be done in short.”

She rubbed open her tired eyes, and not eating his words, she went to Arthur and grabbed him by his shoulders pushing him out of there. “You’re going to bed, now. No buts this time, mister.”

“Wait! I’ll make coffee.” she stopped pulling, he got her attention.

“One hour, then you’re off to bed.”

He filled the glass jar with tap water, right in the middle he stopped. 

“What are you building anyway, I doubt is a car this time.” she leaned on the table, trusting it all her weight. “You just finished the swag van.”

“Don’t call my van like that...” he laughed. Arthur stopped the water and with a wet hand he tried to lift up the jar but it slipped to almost crash on the floor, but just when he expected the glass to shatter, Vivi quickly kept him from getting cuts. “and I’m building a hand…”

His nurse took the jar and poured the water on the machine’s container. “A hand?”

“Yeah, a mechanical hand.” his tone lowered, feeling useless. He scratched the back of his neck to distract him.

“Like, for the garage? Just like that hand from Iron Man? That’s freaking cool, Arthie!”

Arthur denied. “No, Vivi, a hand for me.”

She opened the doors of the bar, found the decaf coffee and she put three spoons on the filter. “Don’t you like your prosthetic? I haven’t seen you wear it in a while, the doctor said it would be useful once you get used to it.”

“I don’t care what the doc said.” Arthur explained with as much poison he could express on his voice. “They aren’t the ones that are using it anyway.”

Vivi frowned closing the machine’s cover, she pressed on trying to swallow her commentaries against Arthur’s statements. 

“I understand, honey, but they literally studied for this several years, you should listen to them a little-”

“That’s what nobody understands! Because you’re not wearing a piece of plastic for the rest of your life!” he made a hard fist and punched the table causing Vivi to step back. “I feel useless Vivi! I’m not worth it! Not anymore at least… I’m a single handed freak that sooner or later will be left to rot! Just like- just like I’m leaving him...”

A  tear rolled his face, and he hated it. Then other tears followed it, but he couldn’t hate them as well. He sobbed, he sobbed so bad that the pressure on his chest seemed tighter with every breath until the air would leave his body if nobody stopped him. And he wished for somebody to calm him down, he wished for the storm to let him rest in peace and not steal away his dreams.

“Oh, honey.” Her sleeves wrapped around Arthur’s thin body and she buried her face on his boney chest. Vivi’s cheeks were well pressed on him that she could feel his broken heart beat, beating so desperately fast as if it was about to stop at any moment, a detuned drum that needed direction again, she wanted to correct his inner orchestra.

Again her sleeve acted cleaning up his face, her pajama’s fabric was soft touching his dry and dirty face, Vivi’s hand run all across his factions and she treated them with a killer delicacy. 

“You’re not useless.” she took his head and made eye contact, his dead and tired and broken eyes met her vivid and healing ones. “You’re not rotting away.” she cleaned the last tear. “You’re worth more than you think, don’t tell yourself otherwise.”

Arthur only nodded. Vivi warmed up a smile.

“I’ll serve coffee.” he said. “How much sugar would you like?”

“Two spoons, you know.”

But he put three, she always served her own coffee wrong.

Two cups in hand, he gave her one and they both drank it up. Arthur managed a small hug crossing his arm behind her back.

“How is it?”

“With the right amount of sugar.” she smiled and sipped one last time. “I told you I know my business.”

“Sure thing.”

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Delirium”

Whumptober 2019

Fandom: Megaman X.

Summary: Zero is at the edge of death, he wonders if he can become a star.

His ocean blue eyes could only stare up to the endless ceiling, wishing that up there he could find stars, Zero prefered it that way.

Golden and burned locks all around his head made him feel like a star, maybe he was destined to become one. Oh, how honored he’ll be if he’s accepted among his bright friends. He smiles at the thought. He’ll love being the light of the night.

But, has he been the light of the powerless? Had he fought enough against the evils other cannot whether? Has he been the sword and shield others need?

Zero never thought of him as a hero, even is people claimed he was. The hunter always thought of his work a way to repay humanity of all his faults; Zero was just doing what he could to feel better with himself, to fill a bottomless hole of shame inside him, no matter what he did, he never saw an end.

Now, as stars filled his tearful eyes, he wondered if they were calling for him.

Hands gently pulled him up, was that his final call?

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Z, just hang on a little bit more.” a voice broke.

Something rose his pale face, he felt it as if he was disintegrating, leaving a jail that kept him imprisoned for forever.

“X, “ his raspy voice called. “ do you think- that I... th-at I can become a star?”

His best friend chuckled. Green eyes piercing, making his ocean ones land on earth one last time. Had he always looked that bright? Was X the one taking him to the space to live there forever?

“You have always been a star, Z.” X blinked back the forming tears. The blue hunter pulled away the little hair Zero had on his face. “It’s just that you don’t free your light.”

The crimson hunter felt how the weight of his shoulders gave up.

Zero was satisfied. And with that, his ocean eyes dried.        

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“Stab Wound”

Fandom: Megaman X

Summary: Axl is a very careless reploid, he’ll learn from his actions.

Axl saves his breath, gun in hand and fingers ready to pull the trigger.

Red it’s at his side and he feels confident when his leader gestures at him. The read head throws himself to the target and fires twice but the Maverick is faster than him and it defends itself from his attack.

He’s given no time to react, only a cold breeze hits his face, there’s something dripping from the bridge of his nose. It hurts, Axl thinks, but he’s too tired from the alert messages that he just collapses on the floor. 

[nickkkwritesstuff]

“The Mysterious Misadventures of the Mystery Skulls”

Chapter 2: “Beware of the undead train”

If you ever ask Arthur how he thought his life would be, his answer surely is “not like this”.

He was just a young mechanic, he aspired to inherit Kingsmen Mechanics, he aspired to a simple yet happy life surrounded by his loved ones and best friends, however, he ended up becoming and reluctantly joining Tempo’s paranormal investigators: the Mystery Skulls. He couldn’t recall when he first joined to investigate the things he feared most in the world, he was just a second-grader when he met this ‘new kid’ Lewis and, a year later, Vivi popped out of nowhere, or better said, she fell off the school ceiling, to be part of their group.

Arthur had never been a guy with a lot of friends, he was talkative when he wanted and trusted people very easily, however, he never called someone ‘friend’ that fast. The years had changed his point of view, had increased his social anxiety, had made him ‘grow up’; he now feared for his life thanks by the paranormal that many times had persecuted them, anything wasn’t what it seamed, and friends were capable of stabbing you in the back, or shoving you off a clift.

Arthur’s life wasn’t surely the most easiest in the entire world, everything that could go wrong went wrong. But it wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg, there’s still a lot to unpack; ever since he woke up from a coma at the hospital his daily life had been full of ups and downs every now and then. His uncle had been at his side the entire time he had laid down in his sleep and he would be the first one on hold him tight until the pain fled away from his nightmares. Lance is no the most tactile person on the world, but when it is about Arthur he transformed into another, completely different, human being, and his nephew was grateful for that.

The young man couldn’t recall the last time he felt normal, and he was certain he was never feeling like that ever again no matter how hard he tried, the life he had had a long time ago was ripped away from his arms and lost as if it had been thrown into the depths of the unknown ocean, the life that once was, was no more. And when he first opened his eyes at the hospital and gave his first conscious breath, the air entered his lungs heavily, uncomfortable as hugging a cactus, it went up to his fuzzy head and he immediately knew that he was breathing the beginning of a new life. But when he truly felt that the constant rollercoaster of life touched bottom was when he had no sight on his bestfriends, the blue haired girl had been taken away by Lance and doctors, also, his uncle prohibited her standing near to his beloved nephew from now on; and Lewis, his long time friend, his brother, the gentle giant of a man never showed up in all the time he stayed at the hospital.

His best guess was that Lewis was mad at him.

Arthur did his best to remember all his faults and fails but he never got an answer, so when he was able to get up by his own, he wasted no time to give the Pepper’s Paradiso a visit. The only thing he witnessed there was Lewis’ restless mother asking him where in the world her son was.

The question didn’t hit him immediately, it echoed inside his mind for a while as his best friend's family broke down. The young man could see his heart drop to the floor when his eyes met Mrs and Mr Pepper’s faces. Lewis hadn’t returned home and it had already been a month; both adults had called their son several times, they reported him missing but the police had no clues on his chase so their only hope relied on Arthur’s shoulders, but when he crossed the restaurant's doors that night, all hope they had left fled through the windows.

He damned that night as much as he damned that cave.

When more months passed by and his friend showed no signs on coming back soon, he grabbed a map, his backpack and Vivi, he put them all on the van and drove almost mindlessly all across the state and a little bit beyond that. He pointed out the places Lewis could have gone, most of the circles were at caves. And so his search began, looking everywhere, under the rocks if it was necessary, they visited haunted places, risked their lives and dignity several times, but Arthur found nothing, and the fact that Vivi refused to believe that Lewis ever existed didn’t helped his mood.

His only consolation was when his mind refused to sleep, those were the nights full of comforting silence, no thoughts ringing inside himself, no real worries to his head, just him and the nostalgic memories of his friends. He used to scroll his phone gallery over and over again, remembering the good times, hoping that he could go back to them once he found his lost brother. Arthur daydreamed his encounter with Lewis, and all his mind craved for was a big bear hug that only his best friend mastered. Tho, his little piece of heaven came to an end when the van stopped in front of a massive, haunted mansion; there was when things went straight to hell.

Now, as he revised the old lady’s tsuru, he regretted many aspects of his life decisions.

Read the rest on Ao3