from eden

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Valkyrie Cain/Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain & Skulduggery Pleasant Characters: Valkyrie Cain, Skulduggery Pleasant, The Bentley Additional Tags: Angst, Apocalypse, Major Character Injury, lowkey implied valduggery Summary:

They stand side by side. As usual.

dChapters: 1/1 Fandom: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Valkyrie Cain/Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain & Skulduggery Pleasant Characters: Valkyrie Cain, Valduggery if you squint hard, Halloweeeeeenie Series: Part 2 of Gregson’s AU Summary:

Two adults pretending to be boring.

I have clawed my way out of the university’s soul-sucking maw, dragging a pen and my dignity behind me. Behold: The Valuduggery Gregsons story I was going to write for Halloween but became distracted by life.

The Gregsons had survived the barbecue.

They had survived the bake sale.

They were not, Valkyrie Cain decided, going to survive Halloween.

The air over Maple Crescent smelled like sugar, smoke, and aggressively average cider. Jack‑o’‑lanterns leered from porches with varying degrees of craftsmanship and threat, synthetic cobwebs clung to hedges like bad decisions, and at least one animatronic clown had been legally classified as a mistake.

Inside House Number Sixteen, Sandra and Greg Gregson—suburban sweethearts, model parents, and absolutely not fugitives from magical witness protection—were preparing for the neighborhood’s annual Halloween block party.

Valkyrie glared at herself in the mirror.

She was a witch.

Not a sexy witch.

Not a whimsical witch.

A full‑scale, ancient‑crone, curse‑your‑bloodline witch, complete with moss‑stained robes, blackened teeth, and a staff that had definitely banished a demon in 2009 and still felt smug about it.

Behind her, Greg wrestled with a cardigan, attempting to button it over a T‑shirt with a glow‑in‑the‑dark ribcage.

“I thought you said you were going as Dracula,” Valkyrie said.

“I changed my mind,” Skulduggery replied. “Now I’m going as… Greg.”

“You are Greg.”

“Exactly,” he said, buttoning the cardigan and smoothing his glamoured disguise over his skeletal frame. “It’s meta.”

“You’re wearing a skeleton on top of a skeleton.”

“It’s Halloween. I’m blending in.”

“You never blend in.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m aware.”

She squinted at him. “You look ridiculous.”

I remember being a wee child and feeling so frustrated that I couldn’t find any fan content (not that I knew where to look) so it warms my heart to actually have something to look forward to each day.

So thank you :)

Aw this is incredibly sweet thank you!

I needed to hear this tbh, I've been reaaaally struggling with "you're posting too much," "you're annoying people," etc etc etc imposter syndrome shit a LOT recently so I really appreciate you giving me this specific compliment. I'm really tired of my own brain xD

Here, for your Thursday :]

Wax Phil Lynott

Completed: September 22nd 2025

First || Previous || Next (SoonTM)

Call him Mr Vain~

Stop using AI you absolute buffoons

And either way that puts him/them both in the very mundane action of carrying bags of food

"I bought oats. For porridge."

"......but no cocoa pops?"

"Precisely."

"What? Why would you do that? I specifically asked for cocoa pops."

"Cocoa pops have very little nutritional value, Valkyrie. The complex carbohydrates in oats release energy slowly, providing sustained-"

The grocery store loomed like a fluorescent temple of mundanity. Skulduggery regarded it with the same wariness he reserved for cursed artifacts people who said, “howdy.” He’d never stepped foot inside one, naturally, since they hadn’t been invented the last time he had a pulse, and he had no intention of starting now. Not even for the thrill of browsing fresh produce under soul-scorching fluorescent lights.

Valkyrie nudged him and grinned, “Pretty magnificent, huh?”

“Magnificent in the way a tax audit is magnificent.”

“Come on, admit it. You’re dazzled.”

“Dazzled by sheer mediocrity. Put that on my headstone,” he muttered, but followed Valkyrie through the automated doors anyway.

Inside, the air smelled of cold refrigeration and despair. Aisles stretched ahead like sterile labyrinths, each one promising a fresh variety of boredom.

Valkyrie shoved a crumpled list into Skulduggery’s gloved hand. “Split up. Faster this way. You get what’s on there, I’ll handle the frozen stuff.”

Skulduggery stared at the paper like it had personally offended him. “‘Cocoa pops, M&Ms, barbecue crisps, and fizzy drink.’ his isn’t a shopping list, it’s a recipe for a high cholesterol diagnosis.”

“You’ll survive.” she said, already wheeling her trolley away like a woman abandoning hope before it could abandon her.

He let out a long-suffering sigh, the kind usually reserved for prophecies and children’s birthday parties. “Very well. Into the abyss.”

Ten minutes later, Valkyrie rounded the corner near the dairy aisle to find Skulduggery inspecting a box of quick oats with all the curiosity of someone handling live ammunition.

"Skulduggery, those are not cocoa pops."

“No,” he said, lifting the oats like they were holy relics. “They’re better. For porridge. A noble breakfast. A breakfast of champions. A breakfast that doesn’t rot your organs.”

Her head tilted, "So… no cocoa pops?"

“Precisely.” He nodded, proud.

“But I want cocoa pops.”

"Cocoa pops have very little nutritional value, Valkyrie. The complex carbohydrates in oats release energy slowly, providing sustained-"

“Skulduggery, I don’t want sustained energy. I want a sugar rush so violent it briefly dislocates my soul.”

“And instead, you get cholesterol-friendly, heart-happy porridge. You’re welcome.”

She stared at him. “Did you also replace my M&Ms with, like, sunflower seeds or something?”

“No,” he said. “Pumpkin seeds. They’re high in magnesium and very trendy among fitness bloggers.”

“Skulduggery,” she said slowly, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say the phrase ‘fitness bloggers’ like it was a credible source.”

He folded his arms. “I’m merely saying that your choices lacked fibre, balance, and any consideration for long-term gut health.”

“I don’t want gut health. I want chocolate cereal and regret.”

“Tough.” He cheerfully.

Valkyrie folded her arms. “You’re doing this to spite me.”

“Of course not,” he said, dropping the oats in the trolley like a martyr. “I’m doing this because I care.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “And the crisps?”

“Hummus chips. They’re made from chickpeas.” He said brightly.

She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re unbelievable.”

He bowed slightly. “Thank you.”

“No,” She said. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“It sounded like one.” He tilted his skull at her in amusement.

Valkyrie looked down at the trolley. Oats, hummus chips, pumpkin seeds, and what might’ve been kombucha silently judging her from the corner.

“I’m putting everything back the moment you wonder off.” She glared.

Not death. Not sulphur. Not even the usual lingering scent of overly expensive aftershave that Skulduggery insisted wasn’t actually aftershave. Because honestly, what did he even have to shave?.

This was milk? And something warm? And faintly of litter?

Valkyrie stepped into the house, nose wrinkled. “I swear to god, if you’ve started baking, I’m staging an intervention.”

No response. Which was never a good sign.

She stalked through the foyer, ready for some dramatic reveal, maybe a demon head in the sink or a dismembered sorcerer in the bath. But when she got to the sitting room, she stopped cold.

There he was. Skulduggery Pleasant. Detective. Killer. War Veteran. Bane of Everyone’s Existence.

Kneeling on the floor. Playing with two tiny kittens.

He froze when he saw her. One tucked into his arm like a football, another sitting in a shoebox wearing a napkin like a ceremonial robe.

“I can explain,” he said.

Her voice was calm. “Are those... kittens?” Her head tilted.

“No.” Skulduggery deadpanned.

“Oh my God.” She said, trying to stifle a grin.

“Help. They’re attacking me.”

“Kittens!” She exclaimed.

“Valkyrie, I swear, I’ve never seen these creatures before in my life.”

“You said you were dealing with a necromancer blood cult!”

“I was,” he said defensively, rising to his feet. The kitten under his arm climbed on his sleeve and dangled there. “They used the kittens in a summoning. The ritual failed, and the poor things were left behind. I couldn’t just leave them.”

“So, you kidnapped them?" She questioned, her hands on her hips.

“I rescued them.”

She stared. “Oh my god. You bonded with them.”

He turned away dramatically. “I am maintaining a professional distance.”

The kitten on his sleeve climbed up his back and perched like a tiny furry gargoyle on his shoulder. Skulduggery didn’t react. Valkyrie raised an eyebrow, then laughed.

“You have pets!” She gleefully exclaimed.

“They’re not pets,” he sagged. “They’re colleagues.”

“They’re licking their own butts!” she crowed. “And you bought them a banana bed! You absolute marshmallow!”

“I don’t police how my colleagues groom themselves.” Skulduggery said as Valkyrie gently plucked the kitten from his shoulder, holding it up like an offering.

“Her name is kitten one,” he said softly.

“Of course it is.” She grinned.

“She’s a warrior.”

“You gave it a sword.”

“It’s a toothpick,” he snapped. “She asked for it.”

“Right. And that one,” she paused, pointing to the kitten now trying to eat the napkin, “is named?”

“Kitten two.”

“Of course.”

They both stood in silence as kitten two tried to jump out of the shoebox but fell over the edge, then tried to waddle away but fell over it's own paws.

Valkyrie sighed. “We’re never getting rid of them, are we?”

“I’ve tried,” he said. “Three times. I even left the front door open. Kitten one locked it behind me.”

She looked at him. The skeleton who had once torn open dimensions and stared down death.

And now?

He looked absolutely owned.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, sitting down next to him.

“I know.”

Kitten two jumped into Valkyrie’s lap, curled into a perfect little ball, and started purring like a jet engine.

She sighed again. “I guess I’m ridiculous too.”

Skulduggery passed her kitten one. “Welcome to the resistance.”

Valkyrie laughed, half-horrified, half-impressed. “You’re absolutely the weirdest creature I’ve ever met.”

“And yet,” Skulduggery replied, solemn as ever, “you keep showing up.”