Not sure where I got this idea, I was reading the Death Bringer and had a flash of, 'wow, Darquesse and Lord Vile, this shit is epic.' And here we are, the plot bunny would not go away.

Warnings: Contains Death Bringer spoilers, and a tiny, tiny, tiny bit of Valduggery at the end, okay? And Vilequesse, for lack of better term. And sexualish-ness, I guess, kind of.

Grotesque - odd or unnatural in shape, appearance, or character; fantastically ugly or absurd; bizarre.

I don't own the Skulduggery Pleasant series, it belongs to Derek Landy. Lucky bugger... xD

This is set a year after Death Bringer, so it's AU too.


Darquesse stood silently, waiting, her long dark hair flowing in the wind along with the skirt of the vile dress she was wearing, it was torn and slit in places that would make her look like a well-dressed street-walker, aside from the fact that it was covered in bloodstains which could hardly be seen on the dark-red garment.

But that was the reason she was wearing it; it was vile, and she was wearing the horrid thing for Vile.

She didn't turn. She knew he was stood behind her, although she hadn't heard him approach, she felt his cold presence as she knew he could feel hers.

Darquesse felt the right corner of her lips pull up in that smirk she wore for him; it promised nothing and it gave nothing away except from the fact that there was no winning, Darquesse was the dominant one, and she would not be pushed around.

But Lord Vile was not one to be pushed around either, that was what she loved about him, what she hated about him; he defied her and he was powerful, yet he still couldn't beat her, just like she couldn't beat him. They were equals.

It was the reason why they always met up once a month; to dominate each other, in every single way they possibly could, if he had had blood, Darquesse would have tasted it like a fine wine, and then spat it out as if it has disgusted her, the way he had with hers. In that way, he had more advantages over her, but she had others that he didn't, she was a woman after all.

It was a game; she would entice him with her body, dancing with her shadows and mysterious ways, always dodging out of the way of his attacks with a graceful spin of her body, twirling her shadows around her in a sort of shield.

Eventually, he would notice her body, get distracted and then she would go in for the kill.

But then he would distract her attention, pressing his cold, armour clad body against hers, and then they'd lose control. It happened every time, and Darquesse enjoyed it, more than she cared to admit.

She wasn't particularly sure whether Skulduggery Pleasant knew what he was doing as Lord Vile, but she was almost certain he didn't know. He would not have abused the body of his partner, Valkyrie Cain, in such a way, he had drawn blood on many the occasion.

Valkyrie, that other part of Darquesse's mind, did not know what was happening, she would just wake up one morning, tired and aching and hormonal, wondering what the hell was going on and although Darquesse could have made it stop, she didn't. It amused her.

The reflection knew of course, it knew a lot of things, but it didn't really care. It didn't have emotions, after all.

Sometimes Darquesse would talk to Lord Vile. He would never say anything out loud, but she could feel his voice in her head, murmuring sweet nothings and words she would have never thought him capable of, for Lord Vile wasn't a sentimentalist. Sometimes, almost foolishly, Darquesse would goad him; try to call Skulduggery Pleasant out from the deep resides of Lord Vile's skull. Sometimes, he would lift the visor of his helmet up, and she'd plant rough, needy kisses on his teeth, gently run her tongue across his lower jaw. One time, she almost managed to take off his chest plate, but he sent a wave of darkness, throwing her to the ground, wise man that he was.

He always took off his gauntlets, to run his skeletal hands along Darquesse's body, leaving no place untouched, his icy touch causing shivers of cold desire to run along her spine and skin, freezing her insides with lust. Afterwards, Darquesse would detach his hands piece by piece, and then reconnect them, slowly; in the most painful way she could manage, all the while making it appear as gentle as his touch upon her. When she had enough of that, she would run her burning fingers across whatever bones she could access of his, touching him excruciatingly slowly.

She sometimes found it dull, being so slow, gentle, so hard, so rough. It was the same, and yet it was so different each and every time.

Darquesse wasn't in love, she knew, and neither was Lord Vile; neither of them were particularly capable of love, it was something to do to past the time, it was something she craved. She craved it so badly, sometimes her mind would slip and give Valkyrie nightmares.

She was in lust, she supposed, in lust almost foolishly, because Darquesse was never foolish.

She felt a cold gauntleted hand on her shoulder and her smirk turned to a small, devious smile. Darquesse turned slowly, and looked at where Lord Vile's eyes would be, had his helmet been off. She brought his hand to her mouth, all the while looking him in the face, and almost daintily placed her teeth onto his finger and pulled gently. The gauntlet pulled away slowly, revealing his skeletal hand.

He stopped her, holding her face in his hand, and lifted the visor from his face, and Darquesse tilted her head to the side. He placed a bony finger against her lips and she felt excitement and confusion tingle through her body, emotions that didn't belong to her coursing through her veins.

Suddenly, she understood. Her mind was clouding, becoming fuzzy. She looked up at the skeletal face of Skulduggery Pleasant and she felt a sigh escape her mouth which was not Darquesse's.

Tears that Darquesse wouldn't dream of shedding came to her eyes, and fell down her cheeks and Darquesse felt a sharp stab somewhere in her brain. She let out an agonized grunt. The wall that Darquesse had managed to pull between her and Valkyrie Cain had been broken and Valkyrie Cain could remember everything that had happened to her by the hands of Lord Vile and the unknowing hands of her mentor and best friend, Skulduggery Pleasant. It was psychologically damaging, enough so to kill part of Valkyrie. Darquesse was a part of Valkyrie, and she was the part that was being killed.

Another stabbing pain in her brain where she could feel Valkyrie Cain beating her way through.

She had no idea how the Skeleton Detective had done it, and deep down she knew she didn't care anymore. She just wanted to die.

"You're going to die!" Darquesse felt Valkyrie scream in her head, making her brain throb even more.

Darquesse fell to her knees, all the time looking the skeleton above her in the eye sockets.

"Just… kill… me." She growled up at Skulduggery Pleasant. He granted her wish.

He flicked her in the temple, pushing Darquesse over the edge and into the dark abyss that she had unintentionally created when she had first fought Lord Vile, she managed to dimly think, "love", when Valkyrie Cain resurfaced and was lifted up gently by the man she loved, the reason why she had killed her Alter Ego.


To an optimist, this ends happily, Darquesse is dead and she won't kill the world, Darquesse's dark memories will die with her and Valkyrie'll live happily ever after.

To a pessimist, this ends tragically, although Darquesse is dead, Valkyrie shall probably be haunted by Darquesse's memories for ever and very possibly kill herself.

Sometimes, I'm a hypocrite, but I tend to make up for that when I'm not.

If you hate me, you hate me, but I'm not bothered; I don't hate myself, and that's good enough for me ~ Burgundy Darkness x