seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Germany
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
“come here.” ghastly extends his arms to val without a second thought. she’s older, and taller now than she was when he used to hug her - she’s only a few inches shorter than he is. it makes little difference, ghastly knows val needs the contact just the same. “whatever you saw, valkyrie, you know i’d never hurt you.”
@fulgcr // mild bedlam spoilers !!!
lays on him - love me
He doesn’t move. Not for anything-- not with Valkyrie splayed across him, like some... overgrown lapdog.He doesn’t want to risk a poorly placed rib or a jabbing collar bone to disturb her, to make her move away from his body, & he certainly does not wish to push her away or make her slip off.So he is still-- still as he can be, a corpse moving about as much as one should,empty sockets staring up, up at the ceiling in stunned silence. Had he a heart, it would be racing, & if he’d any blood? It would have flooded to his cheeks, to his ears long ago. Thank goodness his facade isn’t up.(Quiet, Skulduggery. Easy. Do not say anything to offend--)“So, this is how I die again, Crushed to death by my own partner? Not at all the ending I’d expected.”
slides in erskine & val for that parents meme B)
otp parents meme
who’s the one to wake up the kids:
neither! unless it’s school, then they fight about who has the leave the bed lmao.
who makes the breakfast:
erskine! when there’s time, at least.
who’s the one to cry for everything:
erskine lmao. he’s a big blubbering mess.
who’s the more discipline parent and who’s the more lenient one:
i feel like valkyrie would be more strict, and erskine more relaxed in normal circumstances. but when erskine gets out of the gaol, he’s p strict with things bc he needs to set an example too, and he can’t help if sarah goes overboard.
who helps with the science fair:
valkyrie, because she technically went to school much, much closer to sarah’s age than erskine did.
who does baby talk:
both of them! but erskine does it way more.
who wakes up for midnight feedings:
they take turns! but they fight about it, too.
who’s the one who always worries:
they both worry, but valkyrie worries more bc erskine is imprisoned, and then when he is out, she worries about what people are going to say/treat sarah bc of how they view her now.
who picks up the kids early from school for some fun:
erskine. he makes her swear not to tell valkyrie. it works every single time.
who’s the competitive parent:
both of them!
who kisses the ouches:
again, both of them! but valkyrie more.
who’s the sucker for the puppy eyes:
erskine! sarah gets away with some things bc of it.
who makes the “dad jokes”:
erskine. all the dad jokes, no quarter given.
who embarrassed their kid for fun:
both of them, but erskine does it more.
who’s the over protective one:
valkyrie! mostly bc when your daughter’s father is a fucking war criminal and your alter ego killed a fuckton of people, you tend to make sure she either never figures out who her father is or you make sure he stays in fucking line to not make this whole mess worst lmao.
who’s the “take a sweater!” parent:
for some reason, neither.
🐢 ❝ oh uh -------- you tryin to help some dudes out also ---- ?? ❞
@fulgcr // liked !!
@fulgcr
There’s the sound like the clearing of a throat, As the Skeleton rocks back on his heels, (bare hands tucking into his pockets.) “ Erm, ah--- Valkyrie-- “ There’s a certain hesitance to his voice, unfamiliar & strange, like he’s hiding something. But there’s also the hint of a smile in the way his shoulders sit back, in the way his body refuses to keep absolutely still. ( whatever it was he was hiding, he was excited about it. That much was clear. ) “ Got ah.. somethin’ outside--- package for you. Odd. Must’ve been a, erm... late holiday gift or something. Weird. Figured I should let you know. “ ( It’s his gift to her-- a month late, granted, but a gift nonetheless. She’d needed a car, hadn’t she? & Skul was happy to oblige. )
@fulgcr ♥ for a starter
“You look like you could go for another round.” The voice that speaks is like the rolling of thunder, a rumbling, rasping thing that shakes the very earth below & growls deep within the god, (like a wild animal, snarling in the pit of his chest.) A voice charming & enticing, & not altogether bothered or rushed in any way, as HADES sidles up to the bar top. One hand is placed against the cool counter, (a flash of two rings: a skull & a wedding band) & he’s seated himself next to the woman. The bar is dark, but the man keeps his sunglasses on regardless, & in the biting cold of the building, he pulls his coat tight around him. (The surface was different from down below... Whereas Hadestown was sweltering, it seemed everywhere he wandered atop the earth chilled him to the bone.) The fiery heat was bearable. The bitter frost up here was not. Pity he didn’t care to accept that he was the one to blame for such a devastating cold spell. Had Persephone been allowed another week up above, the cold front might not’ve come so quickly. The bartender whisks by, & the g o d lifts his hand-- catches his eye, doesn’t say a thing & yet manages to get his point across: another round. For him & this stranger whom he has decided to prey upon. The mortals... they were easy. They were barely even fun. Don’t even ask him why he still made deals with them for sport. Persephone might be the real drinker here, but if control was a substance, Hades was abusing it. & yet, there’s something different about this one. He can feel it-- he just can’t put his finger on what it is exactly. “Do excuse an old man for pointing it out, but you look like you’ve just been to h e l l & b a c k a g a i n. ”
Fun with Val. As Always.
( @fulgcr )
He had just watched Val’s parents leave from their house, and he was pleased to see that they did not take Val with them. He was across the street, trying to stay hidden so no one could see him, because to some people, he must have looked like a stalker. And him being completely covered up especially made him look out of place.
Normally, he’d have a plan as to how he’d spend the time with Val, either they’d go somewhere to hang out or they’d have a case, but today, he had no plan what so ever. Oh well though, he’d let her choose today, he didn’t mind one bit.
Once Skulduggery was certain no one was watching, he looked both ways then bolted across the street. He could have used the front door like any normal person, but no, he had to climb up to her window to hold true to his saying. Doors are for people with no imagination. And now, he took one last glance around before he finally shot both of his hands downward and let the freshly made wind shoot him to the roof.
He landed kind of hard, and tumbled a bit, almost falling, but caught himself. He looked kind of funny with his arms outstretched in front of him and standing kind of crouched. Hopefully Val didn’t see this, or if she did, he’d never hear the end of it. He then very slowly and carefully dropped his arms and began to shimmy to her window, and once he was there, he held on tightly to the windowsill. He gave the window a soft gentle knock, firstly trying not to break the glass, but also trying to not use too much pressure and suddenly throw himself off. Because he honestly didn’t want to fall to the ground from this height. He didn’t feel like hurting himself today.
After the knock, he waited patiently and kind of uncomfortably on the roof, he couldn’t really sit down though, he was all ready in a position to pull himself into her room. He just hoped she’d get to the window faster, his arms and legs were starting to hurt.
@fulgcr (starter call)
Silence stretches on like the long night ahead of them, & despite it once being a comfort, (A testament to their comfortably) Skulduggery finds, these days, that it sits more like a burden upon his shoulders. Gloved hands grip, tight, to the Bentley’s steering wheel, as his foot works the gas (keeps them at an even speed) down the vast expanse of empty road before them. As much as he’d like it to, even the gentle hum of the car’s engine can’t drown out his thoughts. (They buzz, like hornets) bouncing off every wall of his skull, filling his head with such horrible things. Fears, doubts, anger-- cold, dead resign. (More so than usual.) “Valkyrie--” He doesn’t know where he finds the courage to speak, doesn’t know what part of his cursed form has boiled up these words, (her name.) Suddenly, he prefers the silence. & he wonders if she does, too. “It’s--- You need to stay here. In Ireland.” His words are poison, sticky, pasting themselves to the insides of his teeth. & then they’re spilling out, in great globs, all selfishness & hidden w o r r y. What would he do without her? “Your-- Your family. Your mother & father-- Alice? They need you. Now more than ever.” He needs you. “I know, it’s been... hard. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard, I know-- But... Valkyrie, you can’t go back to America. You can’t go back there alone. This is your home. It always has been.”
