#oc: Vally

[flaredonut]

I was digging through some old notebooks and found out that Vally was supposed to be a cozumel fox like Blueberry. Here's how she wouud look like if she really was one

[forbiddenmoss]

The farmer full of rage chopping down trees

Harvey watching dabbing his forehead: goodness is it wrong I find that rather attractive

Shane sipping cola: would be weird if you didn't that shits hot as fuck

Elliot: yes it is rather pleasing to watch.

[keldabekush]

Vallis in the engineering levels! Technically should be wearing the full PPE all of the time but literally no one does that because it’s so hot in there sometimes that you would just fucking pass out. Engineers and core technicians usually only suit up before they do any work inside the core chambers themselves where all the cylinders are kept

[bonnabees]

oc work oc work!!

[gribbo]

It seems silly, somehow, to split up just to bathe in the stream—as if they're blushing acolytes, as if hearing each other's thoughts is less revealing than glimpsing each other's bodies. Yet the men splash far downriver—the wizard's voice whines through the rushes, complaining of the cold—while Shadowheart, hunched on the bank half a league off, wrings blood and illithid slime out of her hair. Lady of Sorrows, she has so much hair. She remembers how to rebraid it, but not who taught her.

It must not matter, she thinks. She bends like a supplicant and floats her hair in the water. Vally, who'd saved her from that pod, backstrokes by.

"Toffs," she says with a lopsided grin, glancing back at the men's noise. She'd gashed her cheek open in the crash. She prods the sore spot with her tongue as if Shadowheart thinking it had reminded her—probably it had—then rights herself, dripping, and throws back the draggle of her curls. It whips her shoulder with a wet slap. "You and misself, though, we might get by."

Shadowheart's hands snag in a tangle. Pain is sacred, she remembers; she yanks it out. "Might."

She feels those eyes—gentle, thoughtful, too trustworthy by far—like she feels the moon's insulting glow. "Might be quicker to put your head under."

"Really?" It would be quicker. The thought of it makes her shiver, which makes her sharp. "When I need your advice, I'll let you know."

There's no reproach in the silence that follows—only a cricket's chirp, the rustle of sleeping leaves, the soft splash of Vally ducking under again. Shadowheart feels the wordless shape of her mind, stronger and more solid for its closeness: the amusement that tickles like the reeds, the water closing around her in a cool, living rush. She has to quest out for the three downstream, the minstrel and the magistrate and Gale, who blur into one mass of disgruntled thought—

What was that—

Probably Hirudo verbana—

Don't cast spells at me—a leech? You mean a bloody leech—oh, no, no, no, no more parasites, thank you—

Shadowheart, curtained in wet hair, catches the laugh as it comes out. The hand pressed to her mouth tastes of the Chionthar: silty and bitter, like some medicinal wine. Not even Astarion had wanted to camp in the ruin. Back to the strid, Vally had said with that misshapen smile.

"Vally," she calls, unthinking. She rakes back her hair. The last of its filth swirls downstream.

The water parts. A fey and freckled face, floating upside-down, breaks Shadowheart's reflection.

"I should have thanked you properly," she says—then stills, wary, and waits. Her hand twinges, but only that. She feels abruptly as though she's the one floating. "For saving my life."

Vally's impish brows go up. "You did thank me—"

Shadowheart touches her flayed cheek. It's cold as the river. When she lifts her hand, the wound has knitted to a scar.

[vally-the-x-angel]

*It was a pretty boring day for Vally. T was out on a mission of sorts to catch some vandals who disrespected the weapons dealer Carmila Carmine, or something along those lines at least. And Sam was over at the hotel to see his 'mamas'. It's cute, but it left Vally in a pitiful fall of absolute nothing to do but sit around and suffer. Deciding against her suffering today, she decides to have a short walk around the Entertainment District, maybe check out some shops or cafés if any are around. Anything but sit and do nothing all day at least*

@vexter-the-comedian :DDDD

*She walks out of her shelter she had been in for days. She had decided not going out because of her appearance. Ya, that sounded like a horrible idea but she was itching to get out. She starts down a road, taking in her surroundings. Aspen was hopping behind her trying to knock some sense into her and Frey being Frey, didn't come.* "Valentine; do you think this is the best idea?"

((^.^))

[lobotomizedjester]

I think I'm going to draw a few "scenes" as I work on more of the story.

I am going to leave them on the sketchy side bc that's sm work, I might polish my favorite ones

[caprin-fishie]

Portable Krobus room ✨🌑🖤

“So small! they can fit in a suit case!”

My reference from my save file ✨

[bubblpuff-10]

He used to hate the fall…

Until he found out autumn is her favorite season

[savingsallow]

ello !! 💖 how do you come up with romantic partners for val in Canon and AUs? do you ship her with ocs or does she fall in love with them on her own? sending you big hugs 💕💕💕

hey there, darling!! :D

— thank you for the ask!✨ i actually haven't thought about it that way, so this is interesting 😁❤️‍🔥

[casper yaps here 👇🏻]

— Val & Romantic Partners:

Before my elaborate yaps 😆

It's important to keep in mind that Val is demiromantic, so it'll take her some time to fall in love.

~~~

First off, Val's romantic partners, in a nutshell, are divided into two categories: (1) a character I ship her with & (2) a character she fell in love with on her own.

And yes, she does eventually like a character without me knowing. I just realized it later on 🤣✨

~~~

Canon:

The character I shipped her with:

Ominis Gaunt

During my first playthrough for Val, I originally shipped her with Ominis since they have a LOT in common. Or should I say they can — ✨TRAUMA BOND✨

However, the more I think about it, I feel like they would hurt each other more than help each other heal and that makes me really sad 😭

The character she fell in love with on her own:

(cool shots by the queen 👑✨: @acslytherpuff)

Garreth Weasley

Val and Garreth are both exceptional in potions in their own right. Despite that, I feel like Val would've developed a sense of dislike for Garreth because of the incident with Professor Sharp during their first class together.

I always saw the potential for these two as academic rivals (one-sided 😆) of sorts since they both are enthusiastic about potion-making. However, I didn't foresee that Val actually fell for Garreth, and guess what? They make such a good match 💯

Also, the more I thought about it from Val's perspective, it makes so much sense✨

All I can say is that everyday is interesting between these two 😆❤️‍🔥

—

AUs:

For the record, I love OC x OC ships but I didn't expect that Val would get a few in a rather short period of time. Nonetheless, I'm still fluttered that some of my friends let me ship Val with their OCs! 🫂❤️‍🔥

The OCs I shipped her with:

Alvin Hayoung:

(belongs to @acslytherpuff✨)

First Love trope! 🫶🏻✨

Since this is an AU, there are slight tweaks in Val's personality. I don't think she's demiromantic in this universe since this AU is a love at first sight situation.

This was a brief ship as well but me and Cass cooked up some lore for them already. However, we eventually both agree that they won't end up together since their personalities don't mesh well. Nevertheless, they remain good friends and are happy with their new relationships.

Callan Gaunt:

(cal and these amazing shots by: @girl-named-matty✨)

Childhood Friends to Lovers trope!

Matty was also asked about them and you can read it here✨

Basically, I immediately fell in love for Cal once she made him and then we decided to pair him with Val! 🤭

This ship exists in the HCU (Hayrose Cinematic Universe) for more info, you can read this✨

Black and Gaunt as a couple automatically comes along with a LOT of angst already. But these two are set up to live a happy and better life 🥹❤️‍🔥

Val won't admit it but she loves Cal very much. Although she looks so done with him in that photo 🤣 In her head she's fighting between her love for potions and Cal LMAOOO 😆🫶🏻 (bonus: meme by Matty)

I also made a Christmas one-shot that you can read here✨

Ellie Crawford:

So far there's none yet since she's demiromantic.

(ellie belongs to @accio-bagel✨ & shot by: @acslytherpuff✨)

Well, they're not exactly in a relationship but they're also not just friends as well 👀 There's some non-hetero tension between these two and I live for it! 🤩✨

The best way to describe them in a nutshell: ✨they were roommates✨

Me and Bagel are still cooking up some lore for them. But one thing is certain, these two got some interesting story 😌✨

And c'mon, Val + Ellie just makes so much sense in my head 🤪❤️‍🔥

As for the OC Val fell in love on her own well...

Well, at least not to my knowledge yet 🤣

But we'll see 👀❤️‍🔥

After all, I love OC x OC ships!!!✨

—

I hope these made sense and thank you again for the ask! Wishing you a pleasant day and sending you some warm huggies!!! 🫂🫂🫂

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

aha…. ha… ha… they’re not okay

part thirty

❝ HYPOCRISY ❞

SUNDAY — JULY 29 — 5:11AM

WHEN BENTLEY OPENED HIS EYES ON SUNDAY MORNING, IT WAS REALLY BRIGHT IN HIS BEDROOM. And warm. And the ceiling was really… orange? And weeping willow-y? And his bed didn’t feel like a bed at all?

With a sudden gasp, he sat bolt upright, panic and adrenaline flooding his veins like gasoline and sending a wave of volatile dread seeping through his entire body. His eyes flicked to the golden sunrise, to the fountain, to the grass he was sitting on, to the trees above him, to the building he was supposed to be in, to the Chloe that was laying on the ground next to him.

There was no way he had…

Chloe startled awake at his outburst, her face twisting up in confusion, eyes flicking around just like his had before she shot directly onto her feet. “Oh shit!”

Bentley pushed himself off of the grass, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Oh my God.”

It wasn’t super late in the morning, at least, judging by the dim sunrise. He dug his phone out of his pocket in a panic and, squinting into it, he was extremely relieved to see that he had no texts. It was 5:13am.

Asten was so back at the dorm already.

How had they managed to fall asleep out there? He couldn’t even seem to fathom deciding to sleep on the ground when he wasn’t even supposed to be outside in the first place. All he’d been thinking about the previous night was Chloe and how stressed out her breakdown was making him. He never once thought about going to sleep. And yeah, he’d been pretty tired, but… sleeping there hadn’t even been an option in his mind, yet somehow, he… they…

“How the hell did we fall asleep?!” She half-shouted, whipping her phone out of her pocket and cringing at the screen. “My roommates all knew I was coming out here to meet you! They’re gonna think we slept together!”

Bentley ran an anxious hand through his hair, glancing at her in confusion. “…Didn’t we?”

Chloe looked at him with this absolutely gobsmacked, absolutely appalled look on her face, before she seemed to realize… something. “I’m not even going to begin to explain that to you.”

Bentley had no idea what she was talking about.

“God, I… I’m so sorry, Bentley, I didn’t mean…” Chloe scrolled through something on her phone, her cheeks flushing red, cringe deepening. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s… okay,” He replied, though the fact that he was practically already vibrating from anxiety proved otherwise. He was so dead. Asten was literally going to murder him.

“It’s so not okay! Can you even imagine the rumors that’re going to spread if I don’t shut them up fast enough?!” She basically yelled, tugging at her sort of messed up ponytail. “No, no, no. This is so not how this was supposed to go.”

Did she mean that everyone would think they, like, kissed? Or something? What did that have to do with sleeping next to each other? 

When Bentley said nothing, but looked back down at his shoes, she continued: “Your roommates went to that party, right? There’s still a chance they’re not back yet — you should go, now. This is such a disaster…”

“Last time they came back before sunrise…” He trailed off.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, Bentley, I didn’t… and… God,” She ran a hand over her face. “Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine.”

Bentley didn’t say anything just kinda… stood, thinking about how much Asten was going to kill him.

“Hey,” Chloe’s hands were suddenly on his shoulders, and he locked eyes with her, brown on brown. “It’s gonna be fine, just go now before anyone sees. And… and don’t sleep with anyone till you’re married!”

Bentley didn’t say anything to that (because didn't they just sleep together?!), but he did get out of his own head enough to comprehend that he needed to go back to his dorm. Like, yesterday.

So, without a word, he turned, and he went.

He was about halfway there when he realized he didn’t have his keycard.

Which meant someone would have to let him in.

“Shit,” He groaned as he came out of the stairwell on their floor, the sixth floor. He took a quick glance both directions down the long, wainscoted hallway, and when it came back empty, he quietly moved toward their door and whipped his phone out of his pocket.

He tapped on one of his very first contacts. It rang… and it rang…

“Bentley?”

Bentley sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “Hey, Bell… I need you to let me into the dorm without waking anybody up.”

He heard Bellamy exhale. “That won’t be hard. I’m the only one here.”

Bentley creased his brow as he walked up to their room. “What? I’m at the door.”

Hardly a half-second after he spoke, the call ended, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Bellamy was standing on the other side — his hair was sort of messed up, and his big brown eyes were dull and sleepy. He was wearing some blue pajamas that reminded Bentley of the sailboat ones he used to wear.

“Sorry, Bell, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” He cringed as he stepped through the door, kicking it closed behind him. 

“S’ okay. I don’t sleep much anyways,” Bellamy replied quietly, shoving his phone in the pocket of his pajama pants. Bentley glanced around the dorm, his gaze landing on all four of the bedroom doors that were just… sitting wide open.

“Where’s Varian? I thought he didn’t go to the party,”

Bellamy shrugged, walking over to the living area and plopping down on one of the couches. “I don’t know. Did you go to the party with them? I thought you were here all night…”

“I’m sorry, I would’ve stayed if I’d have known you’d be by yourself,” Bentley cringed (He was really good at this stuff, wasn’t he?) “But no, I didn’t go to the party — I had to talk to someone.”

Bellamy creased his brow at him. “All night?”

“I fell asleep on accident,” He replied, making his way over to the couch and plopping down next to him. “After I saw what happened to everyone last time they partied, I decided it wasn’t for me.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything, but just kinda looked down at his hands and fiddled with his pajama sleeves. Bentley could hear the little machines whirring beneath them.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned. Bellamy glanced back up at him, looking sort of surprised, but quickly looked back down.

“Nothing,” He muttered.

“Bell…”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t want you to feel bad…” He trailed off, and Bentley sat up a little straighter, turning toward him slightly.

“Feel bad for what?”

“I…” Bellamy started quietly, glancing at Bentley then down at his hands again, tugging at his own sleeves. “I… I had a nightmare and… when I woke up, nobody was here…”

Bentley internally threw himself off a cliff.

Of course Bellamy would. Why wouldn’t he? With Bentley’s relationship with luck, he was surprised his roommates didn’t just straight up die in the middle of the night.

Bentley exhaled heavily, watching as Bellamy continued to pick at his sleeves. “I’m really sorry, Bell. Was it bad?”

Bellamy just kinda looked down at his lap. “The dream wasn’t so bad, but then I got up and no one was here, and…”

There was a familiar little quiver to his voice that made Bentley feel even worse about leaving than he had about Chloe.

Bellamy sniffed lightly, turning away. “It was really scary…”

Bentley sighed lightly, lifting his right arm and draping it loosely round Bellamy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”

“It wasn’t your fault I had a bad dream,” He shrugged, wiping at his eyes without turning back around. “It just freaked me out, is all. I thought you were at the party and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“You can call me for anything, no matter what I’m doing. I’ll answer — I promise,” Bentley replied, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “I hate that you were by yourself.”

“It’s okay… it really wasn’t a big deal, just… sometimes I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep, and it made me really scared…” Bellamy continued, and Bentley frowned.

“That’s how a lot of my nightmares are, too,” He replied quietly, with a soft sigh. 

Bellamy looked over at him. “I heard that you had one the other night. Was it bad?”

Images flashed through Bentley’s mind in quick succession — Varian bleeding out in Dick’s arms, Rockie getting shot right in front of him, Asten falling off the roof, Nico getting his head beaten in... “Yeah. It was bad.”

“I thought so. I heard you… screaming. But I didn’t know if I was actually awake so I… didn’t come out. I’m sorry…” Bellamy trailed off.

Bentley patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bell. I wouldn’t have, either.”

Bellamy sniffed again, glancing forward at the floor ahead of them with a few quick blinks, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes. 

“Do you want me to do the frogs again? You seem tired,”

“No, that’s okay,” He replied with a small shrug. “I’m not that tired.”

Bentley watched him, observing quietly for a few minutes as his blinks got progressively longer. 

“Are you sure about that?” He asked with a soft smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay to be tired. I’m tired and I just woke up.”

Bellamy smiled faintly in amusement, glancing over at him for just a split second.

Bentley sighed lightly. “It’s okay, you can go to sleep. I won’t go anywhere — I promise.”

"...are you sure?" Bellamy muttered.

"I'm sure. Unless you'd rather be alone,"

"No. No, being alone is..." Bellamy trailed off, picking at his sleeves. "Scary..."

A beat passed.

"My head hurts,"

Bentley rubbed his shoulder lightly. "Do you want some medicine?"

"No..." He muttered, fiddling with his fingers some more, like he was nervous about something. "Can I just..."

Bentley watched him carefully, but he never spoke again. He just sort of looked down at his lap. "Can you just what?"

Bellamy shrugged and looked away, abandoning his question entirely.

"You can ask. I can already tell you the answer is most likely yes," Bentley replied, earning a faint smile in response.

"I... was going to ask if I could..." Bellamy trailed off, continuing to pick at his sleeves. "If I could maybe..." His eyes flicked down to Bentley's shoulder, and suddenly, he seemed to understand.

"Oh, yeah," He replied immediately. "I'm not gonna say no to that."

“Are you sure?”

Bentley hummed. “Super sure.”

With that, Bellamy settled himself down on the couch and grabbed one of the blankets from the back of it, draping it over himself. Then, with an attentive glance to Bentley, subtly and tentatively moved until the side of his head came to rest on Bentley’s shoulder.

"Sorry if that’s… weird, I just…”

"It’s not weird," Bentley replied, smiling faintly as he adjusted his arm so it was comfortable for both of them. "I've probably spent more time in the last three years sleeping with someone else next to me than alone -- so I don't mind. It's actually nice."

“Oh… okay,”

A few moments of silence passed, and Bellamy settled in farther, adjusting his head against Bentleys shoulder with a quiet sigh. “Y’know, I… think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Bentley said nothing, only glanced at him. By the time he’d managed to work up a response, Bellamy’s eyes were comfortably closed, his breathing had evened out, and the machines on his arms slowed until he could barely hear them anymore.

If Bellamy kept talking like that, Bentley was gonna have to ask Bruce if they could take him home.

—

“-must’ve woken up and came in here,” Was the first thing Bentley’s ears registered when his senses started coming back to him. He was laying somewhere, but it wasn’t his bed. It was…

Oh yeah — the couch, in the living area. He wasn’t sitting up anymore; He seemed to be laying across it, and there was a blanket thrown over him that hadn’t been there before. Bellamy’s presence had all but vanished from his right.

“You think he noticed you were gone?”

“I hope not. He was dead asleep when I left,”

It was Asten and Valor whispering — though Bentley probably wouldn’t have been able to tell in his half-awake state if it weren’t for their opposing accents.

“Are you gonna tell him?” Valor questioned.

“Unless he noticed I was gone, no. I’m not hungover anymore, so it shouldn’t matter,”

He wasn’t hungover, so it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter that literally yesterday Asten had given Bentley a speech about not keeping secrets, and then did something the same night that he planned on keeping secret. (What kind of world was Asten living in where he could just… be all hypocritical like that? Bentley wasn’t allowed but he was?)

Bentley fought the urge to huff dramatically and, instead, stayed eerily still on the couch, pretending to sleep. (He was pretty good at that.)

“You’re welcome, by the way, for being the puke dad again,” Came a third voice, with a distinct Russian lilt. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for waking up and coming to the hangover rescue. Where’s Koa and Rockie?” Valor questioned.

“Koa’s throwing up outside. I think Rockie’s out there with him,”

“Jesus, that kid gets sicker than anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life,” Valor sighed. 

“He also gets drunker than anyone else,”

“Because he's obsessed with beer pong. He played it at least thirty times last night,”

Bentley just listened as the voices moved about the dorm, a few doors opening and closing and sounds bouncing around. An unidentifiable amount of time later, the distinct sound of the dorm door opening and closing pierced the air — it must’ve been Koa and Rockie.

A few more voices came and went — small talk, mostly. Bentley didn’t listen because he was too busy being absolutely pissed that Asten had the audacity to be such an arrogant hypocrite after he made Bentley cry about it the day before. 

Eventually, the voices faded into the other rooms, and the dorm went quiet again.

Bentley, extraordinarily angry but not mean enough to disturb everyone’s sleep, forced himself back to bed on the couch.

He’d talk to Asten later.

Later came sooner than he wanted it to… but at the same time, took all too long to come around.

He shuffled back into his and Asten’s bedroom at nearly eleven in the morning. The dorm was practically dead — not a soul had come out into the living area since they’d all returned earlier. Part of him kind of wanted to cry (because he couldn’t be mad like a normal person.) and the other part of him wanted to, like, burn something down. 

For now, he decided to find somewhere in the middle to float.

He went into his and Asten’s room, kicking the door closed behind him and glancing at the top bunk. Asten was laying up there under his blankets, but his arms and phone were sticking out, and his screen was on, signaling that he was awake.

“Hey, B,” He greeted casually. “Why were you in the living room?”

Bentley breathed in and out, staving down some of the anger that threatened to make him, like, yell. “Bellamy had a nightmare. We were both in there, but he left,” He replied curtly.

He pulled his desk chair out and sat on it, then heard Asten shift, as though he were trying to look at him from his bed. He must’ve given up because his head never appeared from under the covers.  

“I didn’t hear you leave,”

Was he seriously trying to make Bentley think he was home all night?

Bentley shrugged with a short huff. “Not sure you could hear the door from Mason’s house, anyway.”

Asten’s head did pop out, then, and he sat up on the bed. “Did-“

“I’m not stupid, Asten. I was awake when you left, and I was awake when you were telling Valor you weren’t gonna tell me,” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the hell?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but worked his way off the top bunk and sat on Bentley’s instead, crossing his arms. He looked tired, like he’d just woken up, but sort of offended at the same time. “Not everything I do is your business, B.”

Bentley narrowed his eyes at him, wanting nothing more than to set his hair on fire. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie,” Asten scoffed.

“Well, you didn’t tell me the truth,” Bentley spat, leaning back in the chair. “There’s no gray area between an honest person and a liar.”

“What-“

“You just gave me an entire spiel over keeping secrets just to go and keep secrets. So what, you’re allowed to but I’m not? I’m supposed to let it slide when you do it, but you’re allowed to get upset at me? Sounds pretty hypocritical,” Bentley hissed. Asten’s eyes went cold again, his expression darkening.

“You have to tell me where you’re going because you’re an innocent little nepobaby who’s naivety will get you killed,” Asten spat back. “You don’t know half the shit that goes on in this world — I do.”

“… So, because you had a shitty life, the rules don’t apply?” Bentley asked, tapping his fingers on his arms. “You’re allowed to go do whatever you want and expect me to just sit here at your command like a dog?”

“I’m trying to protect you,” 

“Bullshit. That just sounds good. If you were actually trying to protect me, you wouldn’t leave the three youngest roommates in the dorm overnight just to go get drunk out of your mind,” Bentley was practically fuming at the ears, but he made doubly sure not to raise his voice too loud. “I wouldn’t even care about you going out and getting wasted if you’d just tell me first!” 

Asten rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Why’s it such a big deal all of a sudden?”

“It was a big deal to you yesterday,” Bentley replied. “But I guess that doesn’t matter, since you’re a hypocrite and all.”

Asten was glaring daggers. “Bentley.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He ordered, locking eyes with Asten and forcing them to stay there no matter how uncomfortable it was. “You said something. You did the opposite. Tell me you’re not a hypocrite.”

Asten was pissed — Bentley could tell. He had this cold sort of feeling that radiated from him when he was really mad; one that would make passersby afraid he was gonna punch them if they got too close. He opened his mouth to reply, but Bentley beat him to it.

“I may be younger than you, but you can’t walk all over me anymore. You helped train that into me,” Bentley muttered. “So if you’re allowed to go do whatever you want whenever you want without telling me, so am I.”

“Bentley-“

“And I’ll start by telling you, now that it’s convenient for me, that I snuck out of the dorm and stayed with a girl last night. All night,”

Asten’s horrendously-pissed-and-angry face cracked a little to reveal something like disbelief, and vaguely, shock. “Yeah, sure you did.”

“Unlike you, I’m not a liar. Ask Bellamy, he had to let me back in this morning. Or you can consult my call history and find where I asked him to let me in,” Bentley replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tossing it on the desk with a bam!  “Or maybe you can dwell on the fact that I was sleeping in the living room in different clothes than I went to bed in?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but his mouth was open, like he was debating on it.

Then he huffed deeply, like he was really irritated. “Who was it?”

“Not everything I do is your business,” Bentley mocked, rising from the desk chair and pushing it in, grabbing his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “I’m done arguing with a wall.”

“Where are you going?” Asten asked as Bentley approached the door.

He swung it open, glancing back at Asten just long enough to say: “Maybe I’ll tell you when it’s convenient.”

Then he left their room, and he left their dorm, going nowhere in particular.

Everything in high school was bullshit.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[flaredonut]

there is hope after all

done on clip studio btw

[forbiddenmoss]

My head cannons

Elliot is a mermaid

Caroline grows weed in her green house

Sebastian and Sam have had a crush on each other for YEARS

Abigail knows this she keeps making plans the three of them then cancelling in the hopes they confess to each other.

Shane is actually good friends with krobus

The magical creatures show themselves to Haley when she's taking photos in nature. She will never tell Emily worried she'd be upset despite their efforts the creatures never show themselves to them.

Marlon, Willie and the wizard meet up and talk shit about Lewis. They also encourage Marlon to make a move with Marnie (he never does)

Morris and Pierre grew up best friends. Morris had a crush on Caroline and told Pierre next day Pierre had asked her out. Neither has moved on they are rivals in everything.

Alex has zero alcohol tolerance but he doesn't drink anyway so no one knows

Penny planned to run away and work for the night market when she was younger. She writes short stories online about her dream life sailing the seas and traveling the world meeting people.

Robin is working up the courage to divorce dimetrus. She already has the divorce papers from Lewis now she's just waiting.

Clint doesn't have romantic feelings for Emily it's platonic love but because he's so isolated and they are the only person who makes time for him he mistakes this for romantic feelings.

Penny is related to robin on her father's side.

Shane is actually jazs biological father. He donated to help his friends have a baby. He isn't sure when the best time to tell Jaz is.

Leah is an amazing singer. That's how her and Elliot became friends he heard her sing assumed she was a mermaid too. She is either completely oblivious or pretending not to know what Elliot really is.

Gunther is a world renowned EDM DJ in zuzu city. Gunther isn't even his real name he just likes his privacy and no one knowing him.

Jodie consumes the most weed out of all the villagers. That's what happens in Caroline's greenhouse.

Linus is gathering evidence to take down Lewis. The government has been on to Lewis for years but Linus will be the one to expose the truth.

Krobus is wanted is 38 states for identity theft, tax evasion and three cases of possession of dangerous weapons.

Vincent eats bugs

Jaz dared him

Marnie is in a burlesque dancing club with sandy

[spicysoo]

A little oc x cannon

[gribbo]

We are going to the helm! the brain-thing sings in chorus with itself. It skitters through the rubble, clumsy as it climbs, dainty as it steps over a dead man's twisted arm. We and our friends are going to the helm.

"Best we follow it," murmurs the woman in ranger's leathers who'd dragged him, a stranger, from that coffin of glass. She pulls him past the corpse. He stumbles. Her hand on his forearm is an iron band. "Knows where it's going, and where it's at."

Her voice rings passing strange—because it's outside his head, he realizes, rather than in it. Oh, god—which god? A wren of a name, small and trilling, flits into his mind and out again.

He lets it go. He and his friends are going to the helm.

Parts of the nursery chamber are still on fire. The walls of the ship convulse, bulging out and groaning in, as he and the ranger follow the brain-thing through—the labored gasps, he thinks, of a dying thing struggling to breathe. The red lights sputter. The creature flicks out its tendrils, tasting its way through broken glass and the brine of shattered organ-jars. He takes a breath of gritty, sulfurous smoke and doubles over coughing—

"Keep your feet, now." His savior stops to steady him—grips his shoulders, then his face, firm as an ostler. Her own broad, earnest face blocks his view. "We're getting out of here, you and me. You've my word on that, see?"

Bits of the ship shake down around them. He's shaking, too.

"Oi." Blood trickles tearlike from the gash on the ranger's cheek. It's torn almost to the teeth. He doesn't think she's noticed. "My name's—"

"Vally Dell," he rasps, "of Bybridge-on-Reaching, where your brother has a farm and herds sheep."

A pause. A sparking cable slithers down from the ceiling.

"Aye," says Vally Dell, and backs up a step. Then another. She tries to smile, which makes it worse. "He does. Forty head."

He knows that. He used to sleep with the ewes in the byre, when he was small—no, he didn't—

"Sorry," he gasps, whoever he is—he can't remember, can't hold the shape of it in his mind. The enemy. So many enemies. They are needed at the helm. "I, I'm terribly sorry, I don't"—he takes a wild breath, his thoughts scattering before the pain swelling in his head—"I'm not—I don't know how I knew that, I don't know you—"

We know you, whispers the brain-thing. The susurrus of voices burns bright behind his eye. We love you.

Vally clutches her head, too. "Give over—"

The pain bursts into a spasm of white light. He thinks, and it's like pushing a knife of fire through his skull, of leaving this mad mind-thieving bloke right where he's at: half-blind, wobbling like a lambkin, twisting a hand through the blood-wet mess of his curls. Togs all torn. Shards of glass sparkling in his hair.

The thoughts aren’t his. They aren’t his. For a flash of the dying lights he stares at himself, appalled, through the eyes of Vally Dell.

The brain-thing’s voice rises to a thrilled, cascading chirp. Our gift!

* * *

No one back home, he thinks that night, will ever believe this. To explain the gith alone will take the better part of an hour.

“She’s somewhere about,” says Vally, crouching to prod the fire. “I hope.”

Shadowheart, somewhere in the dark, makes a testy noise.

They’ve made camp, the five fortunate survivors of the crash—and bickered, and roasted squirrels on spits, and splashed through the river in some semblance of a bath. His head’s stopped bleeding. He’s sifted most of himself, he thinks as he stares at the stars, from the stream that is everyone else.

At least, he thinks he has. His workname. His real name. The stack of soggy broadsheets on the stoop of his Whitkeep flat. Skulking in an alley—no, he’s never skulked, or even lurked. Scratching a winged cat behind the ears—no, cats don’t fancy him. He tips out his table-scraps, sometimes, for a tom that bit his hand. His brother’s face—no, the brother has Vally’s nose.

Jem’s face. Carrying Jem to the factory on his back, swinging her lunchpail, letting her steer him by the hair. Jem’s face when he forgets her daughters’ names.

And the mice in his larder, and the music-box in a tinker’s grimy window, and a piano he’d spelled to play itself—by all the gods in all the hills of Dothion, he’d sooner slam his fingers in a door. Bloody wizards. He recalls pain and a sliver of moonlight in tall trees before Shadowheart spins him about, marches him to the door of her mind, and thrusts him out.

“If you don’t mean to pry, Silk,” she says to his half-formed apology, her voice sharp as the tines of that artifact, “then don’t.”

Vally’s mind, brusque and companionable, brushes his. She hadn’t left him on the ship. What they think, he reasons, is less important than what they do. “How’s the head, then?”

“Don’t,” says Shadowheart again, crisply. “He’s a bard. Give him a reason, and he’ll go on all night.”

“I’m not a bard,” he says, his voice hoarse and strained. There goes his livelihood. Thank Milil his gittern is all right—

Milil, he thinks, seizing the name. Milil, Milil. God of minstrels, god of songbirds and sonnets and shawms and silver bells.

Vally looks at him with the kind pity reserved, usually, for madmen and shivering small dogs; he can’t imagine the clangor in his head that she’s overhearing. Birds and bells and hills and helms. She taps his gittern-case. “What’s this, then?”

“It’s—bards can cast,” he rasps, then shuts his eyes. Putting words together feels like pushing awls into his skull. “They’re spell-singers, adventurers. I, I’m a”—he rubs his forehead, feeling everyone else wince, too—“a minstrel. A music-tutor.”

“Oh, lovely,” drawls the magistrate. “Very helpful. You can teach us all to play pizzicato.”

Naff bastard. “And you can take bribes from the mind-flayers.”

“None of that,” says Vally mildly. Even the crickets quiet down. “You can’t do aught else for him, just now?”

“I’ve done all I can for a blow to the head,” says Shadowheart. The minstrel hears her sigh. “Try to wall him out. We’d all be up with headaches, anyhow, what with the—”

“Please don’t mention anything that wriggles,” says Astarion, pained, “or eats brains.”

“An illithid tadpole doesn’t eat one’s brains, exactly,” says the wizard—who’d had time to study ceremorphs, it seems, but not to practice scales. “It’s rather more a caterpillar-in-the-cocoon situation, if you’ll pardon the imperfect analogy—”

“Good night, Gale,” says Shadowheart.

“Ah—yes, of course. We’re all weary from our travails. Much to do in the morning, as well.” Gale clears his throat. “Let’s be up with the lark.”

A songbird, the minstrel thinks. Herald of the Harpist of Flame, and so. For the span of two bright notes, the wings that skim their thoughts belong to them all.

[iriyaices]

That's right, after I replayed it ten times I finally drew an OC XD

I might draw more Stardew

more of them later!!