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badsongpetey · 7 months

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Part 1

Part 2

For a second, Lance thinks it’s some weird cosplayer with no sense of personal space. Purple hair, fake elf ears, someone’s played way too much D&D. But then they blink and their pale violet eyes swirl with unearthly fire, and… NOPE. LEAVING NOW. Not today secret waterfall satan.

Lance is turning before he even thinks it and starts sprinting to the edge of the pool. Well, sprinting as fast as one can in neck high water. In retrospect, swimming would have been the logical fastest option but Lance isn’t finding himself in a particularly logical state of mind.

He sees Hunk standing wide-eyed and petrified in place as he nears the rocky edge of the pool. Lance grabs for the ledge to lift himself out, but all the thrashing about has made it slippery and he falls back into the water with a splash. In an instant he’s up again, sputtering and blinking away the water. He risks a glance behind him, surely this setback has given that thing time to catch up, but all that’s behind him is the slowly stilling water.

What the… ? “HUNK!! HUNK! Some help here!” Lance yells, just as the water explodes around him. He spins to see something impossible. Some creature with a head nearly as long as his body rises out of the water, rapidly followed by miles and miles of purple and blue neck. When it stops rising, it pauses to look directly at him, water rippling off its serpentine body, and Lance’s brain begins to shut down.

Of all the ways Lance had considered he might meet his end — in bed surrounded by dozens of great-grandchildren; heroically defending the universe; smothered by adoring fans — this particular demise had never ever had occurred to him. This giant mutant snake ate the cosplayer and was going to make him dessert.

He feels the rocks press into his back as he unconsciously tries to put as much space between him and the monster, his mouth moves mutely, just as well, screaming would probably just encourage it. It cocks its head, and Lance irrationally thinks it looks like a confused puppy before it lowers to look him in the eye. This is where it eats him.

He wants to look away, but fear sticks him in place. Its eyes glow and swirl with purple and red flames as it edges closer and snorts, and, suddenly he’s yelling. Loud. Lance McClain is not going to die in this stupid haunted waterfall. Not today.

He scrabbles fruitlessly against slippery side of the pool when large hands grab onto his arm and heave him bodily from the water. Hunk is about as pale as it’s possible for a human to get and he looks like he’s about two seconds away from throwing up, but he’s still here. He’s winning all the best friend of the millennium awards today.

“RUN!” Is all Lance can get out before they’re doing just that. Fuck his shirt, fuck his shoes, fuck the cosplayer, fuck that mutant snake.

They run until the sounds of the waterfall are a distant memory and they’re deep in the forest again. Lance collapses against a tree and Hunk drops beside him. They sit like that, trying to catch their breath and wrap their heads around what just happened.

“Do you think it followed us?” Hunk asks, still face down on the mossy ground.

“No,” Lance breathes, “something that big, we’d know if it were behind us.”

Hunk looks up at him. “What WAS that thing??”

Good question, Lance thinks.

Hunk eases himself up to a sitting position and leans agains Lance. “Everyone said it was haunted…” he mumbles, “but not with the Loch Ness Monster.”

Lance snorts. “Waterfall Nessie?? Maybe it’s got a vacation lake to get away from Scotland once in a while.”

Hunk guffaws, “Told you to let me test the water before you jumped in.”

#klance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #voltron #vld #hunk garrett #water guardian au #klance fluff #klance au #fanfiction #dragon keith

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hexagonalhavoc · 6 months

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Can I request Rust x She/Her pronouns Reader? Veeery need to comfort Rust because he deserves better <3

Light in the Darkness

Rust McClain x Reader

[Author’s Note: Heck yeah Rust is my second favorite character. I took some artistic liberty and added some of my own headcanons about Rocky into this. I got choked up a little while writing this but I loved to write it.

⚠️Mentions of death and grief]

Rust was at his lowest point, his mind still felt scrambled from the effects of whatever device had been used on him. He could still feel the hooks digging into his head. He slumps forward with an arm on the table. Most people would think he’s asleep, especially with the hood concealing his face but he’s wide awake.

It was a trick he had used on raiders and radrats. They would think he was asleep or even dead and when they came to pick apart his corpse for loot he would ambush them.

Right now all he could do was listen to the hushed whispers of the patrons and the creaky floorboards. He wasn’t oblivious, he knew that almost everyone suspected he was the killer. He didn’t blame any of them for coming to that conclusion as he would also be suspicious of himself but he knows that can’t be the case. He’s in control of himself again…Right?

The storm outside is raging, rain hits the windows like bullets and the thunder shakes the rickety structure that is the Inn. Abruptly, the bar is engulfed in darkness. Rust reaches for you like he used to with Rocky when he was younger. A cold and firm hand clasps over your wrist. You aren’t sure if it’s from fear or protectiveness.

“It’s okay Rust, I think it’s just the storm.” You whisper to him kindly. You’re startled from the sudden blackout and the hand that went to your wrist at an impossible speed but you remain calm and patient. Sometimes his protectiveness can be overbearing but you try not to let it show. He hasn’t exactly told you what he’s been through but it seemed like he had been through a lot. The poor man didn’t even seem to know he was a game character.

You think he’s about to say something but he’s cut off by someone else. “Hey you, Lass, would you mind going to the basement floor and getting the ol’ backup generator running?” The barkeep asks, seeming perfectly calm in the dark.

You nod and get up from your seat but you notice Rust is still holding your wrist. “Do you wanna come with me? I could use the company.” He doesn’t seem to like the dark very much and it would be pretty insensitive to leave your friend here with a bunch of people who think he’s a murderer. He nods and gets up, as he lets go of your wrist you can hear the rustling of the objects strapped to his belt.

“Careful Y/n, he could be the murderer. Just scream if things go south.” You roll your eyes and lightly push the other man away from you. “Oh shut up, Laz. Don’t forget I was a space marine too.”

You understood your friend’s concern but you didn’t think it was right of him to treat Rust like a savage criminal. Lazarus didn’t seem too offended by your comment. Both of you had known each other for a while so he had learned not to take your abrasive nature too seriously. He knew that you could take care of yourself in a fight as you had taught him everything he needed to get by in Vicious Galaxy but he was still hesitant to leave you alone in the dark with Rust.

Regardless, you intertwined your arm with Rust’s and began your descent down to the basement floor.

“So you and him…Worked together?” Rust broke the silence and you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see it in the dark. “Yeah we were both space marines and worked together during heists and stuff.” You kept a hand on the dingy wall to guide you as you walked.

Rust found it hard to believe. You didn’t look like him or Lazarus. You didn’t wear the same armor and your skin was free from scars or burns, your face wasn’t weathered from the constant stress of battle. Your heart wasn’t hard and you always tried to help people out. You were the only person who didn’t immediately accuse him of being a murderer and you two spent so many hours talking. Despite being in two completely different games you found common ground with him.

“Have you ever lost anyone?” It’s a very sudden question to come from the man. He waited quietly for your response as you two navigated around the dark rooms looking for this generator. You really hope it’s down here and that the barkeep wasn’t just messing with you. There’s something in Rust’s voice, it trembled slightly when he asked that question. You could feel his eyes on you as he awaited your response.

If anyone else had asked such an insensitive question you would let them taste the barrel of your gun but you have a hunch that he was asking this question for a reason.

“I taught new recruits how to fight. Whenever they were sent on missions very few came back.” Your hands make contact with some sort of control panel and you start hitting buttons and flicking switches hoping that one of them would turn the power back on. You thought back to all the people you trained, so many lost npc’s that had been sent to Vicious Galaxy as a punishment. You tried so hard to comfort them and keep them safe, you would even try to go on tougher missions by yourself so more people could stay behind. It was hell and you had to teach yourself how to fight but you weren’t going to let people be hurt.

None of the switches turned on the power, causing you to let out an annoyed huff. This place seemed so much bigger in the dark. “But what about you?” You decide to focus on the conversation on Rust, not wanting to overburden him with your sad stories.

“My son.”

You haven’t heard this much emotion in someone’s voice in a while. Everyone at the Inn was so closed off. You had been used to hearing the frantic wails or angry cursing of new recruits but you never heard anything like this before. It was so saddening that it made your heart sink and for a moment you stopped searching for the generator so you could process what he said.

You could only see a faint outline of him as your eyes adjusted to the dark. You took a step closer to him. “I’m really sorry.” You wished you could have said more but that was the only words you could muster. You would have never guessed that he was a father but now that you knew you bet he was a good one.

“He wasn’t my biological son. His mom was sick and he was born small.” A bittersweet chuckle left his lips. “But he grew something fierce.” Rust always assumed he would be on his own until he found that woman, panicked and sickly. He didn’t fall in love with her but he was there for her until the end. When she died her child was born, small and green with a weak heartbeat and a deformed head. Somehow the baby had pulled through and became so strong that his skin couldn’t be penetrated by bullets. Despite his exterior he had a soft heart but Rust was still proud to call his son a man.

You were glad for the cover of darkness that surrounded you both. You pursed your lips together as you tried your best not to cry. You had never formed such a close attachment to someone like Rust had and the fact he didn’t know that everything was a game made it worse. Everything that happened to him was so real, even if Rocky was just a code of programming. It didn’t make the love Rust had for him fake.

“I don’t think it matters if you were his biological father or not. You took care of him like he was your own and I know that he loved you like you were his real father.” It seemed that many people were fooled by the man’s appearance but in reality he was so kind and loving.

Regardless of what you think he shakes his head. “I wasn’t a good father. I couldn’t even save him.” Rust’s voice becomes shaky, his breathing becomes faster as he chokes back sobs. “I tried so hard but I couldn’t stop her…I couldn’t even give up my life for his!”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen someone break down but this wasn’t Vicious Galaxy, you couldn’t just tell him to get over it and go back to training. You decide to do something you have never done before. Cautiously, you take a few steps towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. He tenses up but he doesn’t say or do anything. Slowly you pull him into a hug. He’s a little taller than you so it’s awkward at first but his arms wrap around you as he cries into your shoulder.

“I wish I could say I understood what you’re feeling but I’m scared that I don’t. I never lost anyone that was very close to me.” This is an awkward conversation for you. You hope that you’re saying the right things. You lightly squeeze his shoulder. “But I don’t think you should feel guilty. You gave your son the best life you could and even in the end you were with him.” And now you were crying, gripping the fabric of his clothing as you closed your eyes.

You hardly even heard the rain or the thunder. You forgot that you were in the dark of the dingy basement. All you could focus on was holding Rust as if somehow that could heal all the pain he was dealing with.

Rust can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed, this comforted in the presence of someone. He’s sure that Rocky would have loved you. In his head he imagines a world where all of you are together. He imagines a world where the word “sarsaparilla” opens the vault to a lifetime of supplies where you three live the rest of your days hunting radrats for fun and not for survival.

The survivor knows what love is but this love he has for you is different than the love he felt for his son. It’s a somber sort of love. It makes his heart feel warm and yet he still wants to cry. There’s so much he wants to say but he can’t get it out.

And then the lights turn back on and both of let out a groan as your eyes take a moment to adjust to the light. Now you can actually see each other. You didn’t realize how close you actually were to him. He must have the same thought as you as both of you step away from each other. He tugs his hood down to further conceal his face but you don’t have anything to hide your flustered expression.

“Well…uh…The lights are back on.” You let out an awkward chuckle as you hug your shoulders. Rust nods sheepishly as he fiddles with the bandages on his forearms.

“Thank you for everything.” He mumbles as he wipes his eyes.

You smile and nod. “Of course. I’m glad you came with me.” You awkwardly cleared your throat. “We never found the generator though. I guess we can just tell the barkeep we did.”

Rust nods along with your words and the both of you start walking back to the bar. You’re closer together with your shoulders almost touching each other’s. Both of you step into the light together, silently enjoying each other’s company.

#The hex #the hex game #the hex x reader #The hex game x reader #Rust McClain #Rust McClain x reader

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aftout · 2 months

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leans against the wall . rust mcclain for the ask thang :33333

Sexuality Headcanon: scratches my chin . Bisexual beam again. I cant help it

Gender Headcanon: old man ☝️

A ship I have with said character: Potpie is cute .. i dont really have any deeper thoughts than that i just think it’s sillayyyy

A BROTP I have with said character: He and Lazarus are kind of like alien test subjects separated at ominous green tube explosion.

A random headcanon: His immune system is fucking insane. It’s actually kind of scary. He never gets sick. I think he’s grown immune to most gasses. I also think he needs glasses but he cannot for the life of him stop getting them broken so he’s just given up 😭😭

General Opinion over said character: Really well written. He prompts a sort of existential horror that I LOVE to see in media. Me when I find out that I’m not real and I’m in denial over it lol!!! His relationship with Rocky breaks my heart and I think all of the other inn patrons should’ve been so so so niceys to him

#asks

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thatgordongirl · 2 years

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What our beloved ghosts are listening to this Halloween!

Captain: Zombie - The Cranberries/Monster - Lady Gaga/Ghost - Halsey

Pat: Monster Mash - Bobby Pickett/Ghostbusters - Ray Parker Jr/Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell

Kitty: Calling All The Monsters - China Anne McClain/I Put A Spell On You - Bette Midler/I’m In Love With A Monster - Fifth Harmony

Julian: Thriller - Michael Jackson/Time warp - Rocky Horror Picture Show/Witchcraft - Frank Sinatra

Robin: The Addams Family - Vic Mizzy/Maneater - Nelly Futado/Bury A Friend - Billie Eilish

Fanny: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey/Hounds of Love - Kate Bush/Get Out Of My House - Lana Del Rey

Humphrey: This is Halloween - Nightmare Before Christmas/ Jack’s Lament - Nightmare Before Christmas/Heads Will Role - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Thomas: The Phantom Of The Opera - Andrew Lloyd Webber/Haunted - Taylor Swift/Every Breath You Take - The Police

#bbc ghosts #thomas thorne #the captain #pat butcher #julian fawcett #fanny button #humphrey bone #robin bbc ghosts #kitty bbc ghosts

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fictionkinfessions · 2 years

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fuck lionel and everything he did to not only me, but the people i cared about as well. none of us deserved his half assed garbage and broken promises, all the characters he created just to throw away as if we were broken. as if he was not the one who made us so.

especially rocky. i miss him so much. i miss my son. i don't care if he was my creator, there is nothing that man could've done to mend all the hurt that he caused for me. caused for us.

i'm glad reginald got his revenge. i hope lionel rots for eternities.

-r. mcclain (the hex)

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #rmcclainkin #thehexkin #chara hate #prevabuse #mod party cat!

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hrokkall · 2 years

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📁 Rust McClain?

Rocky isn’t actually his biological son (though there’s a good chance he’s completely unaware of that as the backstories written for the Waste World characters were incomplete, leaving his own mind to fill in the plethora of gaps).

The two narrative threads Lionel originally came up with were “hardcore survivor of the apocalypse loses every part of his family to the wastes except for his son” and “two survivors from completely opposite backgrounds team up to form a single unit” but—seeing as he couldn’t even motivate himself to finish the gameplay—neither one was officially settled on, both lore dumps remaining as unfinished cutscenes in the game’s code. This lead to the game trying to push both on the characters simultaneously, leading to the interpretation of “mourning survivor finds a baby in the wastelands and raises him as his own”. Signed the adoption papers of their own accords, basically.

#Re: Inbox #leafytaffy #📂 asks #This is probably borderline incomprehensible but it is to Rust too tbh #TL;DR irregardless of what Lionel set out to do with their backstories they basically decided they were father and son on their own accord

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scover-va · 1 year

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11 hours of hard work later and I’ve finally got refs for this silly au done

Gonna make a few more characters, but these are like. The ones that matter at all. I’ll work on figuring out details just gimme time. Rust’s design is relatively the same outside of some scarring, but like. It’s ok bc this is his game, after all. Even if waste world isnt a game in this au

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maccreadysbaby · 6 days

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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!

okay, so, keep your eyes open for a possible varian origin story that may come out today… haha. also bentley is about to get right back on the bad decision train he loves so much

part eight

❝ HITTING THE CITY ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 21 — 8:30AM

VARIAN REALLY LOVED TO TALK.

And that was how he, Asten, Bentley, Rockie, and a very grumpy-slash-sleepy Koa ended up piled around the dining table so Varian could try to teach them how to play Phase 10.

Bentley was completely and utterly lost. Phase 10 was complicated, and at the Manor, they much preferred Uno or slapjack. You know, card games that didn’t take a terrible amount of thinking.

Bentley was sitting on the left bench beside Asten and Varian, straight across from Koa, who looked like the state of California incarnate. He had this really uniform golden tan that couldn’t even be achieved by the most religious suntanners in Gotham, and nearly fake looking sun-bleached blonde ringlets on his head. (They weren’t even that messed up from him sleeping under the blanket.) He had his chin resting in his palm and his cards sprawled out on the table, his strangely crystalline seafoam greenish-blue eyes fluttering closed every now and then. He even had one of those bright white shell necklaces on, and a very, very orange shirt.

“No. Once you finish a phase you move on, but no one else does. That’s how you win,” Varian explained. He’d been explaining the game to Asten for at least ten minutes now, and Bentley had been trying to learn as much as he could, but it was still kind of hopeless. He had no earthly idea what he was doing.

Rockie seemed bored by the whole thing, and had taken up staring at his phone instead. (How did he use it with those gloves?) Really, the room was quiet apart from Varian.

Until a door squeaked open.

Bentley glanced up to the bedroom right across from his and Asten’s just in time to see their second to last roommate — Valor — emerge. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, wearing a bulky, oversized black hoodie and some gray gym shorts. He had this sort of long brown hair that hung down in funky waves past his ears, grayish eyes that looked sort of like Bruce’s, and an honest to goodness cowboy hat on his head.

A cowboy hat.

“Morning, Val!” Varian called from his seat, but all he got in return was a muted grunt.

“Don’t talk to him before he has at least four energy drinks. He punched me yesterday,” Rockie muttered, eyes not leaving his phone screen.

Bentley watched Valor go to the minifridge and pull out a vibrantly colored can, popping the top open with a loud snap.

“I only get aggressive for you, Rockie,” Valor said with a sly little wink, which made Asten, Rockie, and Koa chuckle, while Bentley and Varian stayed quiet. Valor had a thick accent — British, if Bentley’s sort of skewed accent instincts were correct. Why would a British kid be here? Didn't Varian say he was from Arizona?

Valor took a sip of the bright drink and tugged his hoodie off over his head.

Bentley’s lips parted.

Sitting folded up on Valor’s back was a pair of absolutely massive wings that were poking through some makeshift holes in the back of his white t-shirt. There had to be thousands upon thousands of feathers there, and they were all a silvery, shiny platinum that glistened when he moved. He extended them outward (they had to be at least five feet long, which would mean he had a ten foot wingspan at least, holy crap.) and after a minute, he shook them out, and Bentley saw thousands of minuscule feather particles float out into the sunlight.

Varian groaned, frown deepening. “You know I’m allergic to birds.”

Valor’s icy eyes cut to him. “And I’m not a bloody bird.”

He didn’t sound exactly like Bentley had thought — his voice was deeper than everyone else’s, which meant he was probably older, too. That made sense; he was by far the tallest of them all.

“I am physically unable to play this horrendously complicated game,” Asten said finally, with a big sigh, putting his cards down on the table.

“You’re making them play that?” Valor said, scrunching his nose, coming to the table and sitting down next to Rockie. Bentley couldn’t take his eyes off of the massively massive platinum wings that were on his back. The one on the right hung sort of limp, nearly touching the floor, while he wrapped the other around Rockie’s shoulders and poked a pretty much sleeping Koa in the face with the tips. Koa startled awake and batted the feathers away with a groan.

“Who’re the new guys?” Valor questioned, ignoring Koa completely, his icy eyes now bouncing between Asten and Bentley’s faces.

“This is Asten, and this is Bentley,” Varian introduced them before they could as much as speak, flicking a hand to them both as he spoke. “Bruce Wayne’s kids!”

Valor nodded to himself. “Cool.”

“Since we can’t play Phase 10,” Varian started, plopping his cards on the table. “Let’s play, like, a get to know you game.”

“Okay, mom,” Rockie snickered, shaking his head. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like… I don’t know. Let’s go around the table and talk about our superpowers!”

Rockie and Koa groaned.

“We do this every semester,” Rockie muttered.

“Why stop now?” Varian said with a smile. “I’ll go first!”

Varian reached forward and dragged one fingertip across the bare tabletop. Deep purple crystals bloomed there like flowers, growing out of nowhere, exactly where his finger touched.

“I can materialize crystals. Anywhere, really, and I don’t have to be touching it. It’s not very useful unless I’m, like, trying to stab someone in the feet, though,” He said with a shrug. “Next!”

He pointed over at Asten. Bentley wondered if Varian was always this excitable. He didn’t mind, but he did wonder. Maybe it’d be nice. It reminded him a little bit of Dick.

Asten, with no real expression on his face, held his hand out. The whole thing lit on fire with a loud whoosh and a wave of intense heat, like matches to gasoline. “Fire.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool!” Varian chided while the others looked on with only mild interest. “Next!”

He pointed over at Valor, who stared at him, blankly, sipping his drink. “Seriously?”

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it,” Varian said with a huff, looking between Bentley and Asten. “Obviously Valor can fly, but he also has super strength and can pick up big stuff. He once shoved a bus off a crosswalk in Times Square.”

Valor shrugged. “It was in my way.”

Varian pointed at Rockie. “Rockie kind of has a weird superpower, like a not superpower superpower. He can take other people’s superpowers away from them and use them. But he can’t give them back, and they wear off after a while and disappear. And it only happens when he touches with his hands — that’s why he has big ol’ gloves on.”

Rockie shrugged to himself, propping his elbow on the table and laying his chin on his metal-covered hand. “More of a curse, really.”

Varian nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he can’t touch anybody with his hands, which makes him sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Rockie snapped.

Varian shrugged. “And Koa kills people with his voice. But only if he hums or sings. Like a siren.”

Bentley glanced over at Koa, and he was already asleep again.

“Makes sense. He’s from California,” Varian continued.

“What about him?” Bentley questioned, pointing toward the only closed door left. The one that said Bellamy.

Varian hummed to himself. “I don’t know. We haven’t met him. He’s a first year, I think, so just eleven. What about you, Bentley? Superpowers?”

“Oh,” Bentley started, thrown off by the sudden change of subject. “Uh, I control liquids.”

“All liquids?” Varian questioned, and Bentley shrugged.

“Pretty much,”

“That’s so cool,” He stated, gathering up the Phase 10 cards and shuffling them, supposedly for fun. “I wish I could do that.”

“What kind of accent do you have?” Bentley questioned, in an attempt to flex his socializing muscles. Varian looked at him with a little smile.

“Russian. I grew up there,” He replied simply, doing a fancy trick where he flicked a card back and forth between his hands. “I was taken from my parents when I was really little and held there to fill this big ol’ mine with crystals, because apparently the ones I make are really expensive. A couple years ago, Batman and his friends broke in and got me out. Brought me home.”

Bentley blinked and looked over at Asten, whose green eyes were wide, and he also blinked.

There was no way this was the kid from the team’s trip to Russia.

Bentley couldn’t forget it, it was literally a few days after he was formally adopted — every single person but Barbara, him, Alfred and Asten were swept off to Russia when they got a call from a contact about a metahuman child being used as a product slave in the mines. Reportedly, he had an American-like accent and looked eerily similar in age and appearance to a missing child from Brooklyn.

It couldn’t be Varian.

Oracle, I have the boy — around little B’s age, I think. Looks malnourished, and possibly diabetic. There’s a blood tester on the floor and the last test is only clocking in at nineteen, Dick had said. That was the only part of the mission Bentley had heard over the comms.

Russian accent. Diabetic. Saved from the caves by Batman.

Holy crap.

“Oh,” Was what Bentley replied. Varian waved him off.

“Don’t be like that. It’s fine — I’m normal now. Plus, I got to meet Batman, which makes me really cool,” He said with a bright smile, despite having literally just dropped a I-was-kidnapped-my-whole-life bomb on Bentley and Asten’s faces, with a little sprinkle of oh-yeah-by-the-way-your-dad-saved-me added on.

Of course, no one else knew that.

Bentley wouldn’t ask about accents anymore.

Asten reached around Varian and tapped Bentley on the shoulder, and then, once he had his attention, put his hands beneath the table and signed: I can’t believe B didn’t adopt him.

Bentley snickered.

“Don’t worry, Val’s just from London. No weird accent story there,” Varian said with a lighthearted chuckle. “But yeah, I really like America. Anyways, what about the-“

Bentley’s attention was drawn away from the table of conversation when he began to feel, in his own veins, someone’s heartbeat, their blood beginning to pound loudly and fast, booming in his ears.

He sent a glance to Varian, but it wasn’t his. Varian’s was a bit slower than the one that had forced itself into his mind, and gentler.

He went one by one around the table — Asten’s heartbeat was slower than Varian’s, and steadier. Valor’s and Rockie’s were, too. Koa’s was the slowest (because he was asleep with his head on the table.)

Whose was it, then?

The blood wasn’t pumping at the table, it was pumping from somewhere else. Not the hallway. Not the dorm next to theirs. Not outside.

Bentley let his eyes travel around the room one little bit at a time, and after two full sweeps, it finally clicked.

It was coming from Bellamy’s bedroom.

Not a second later, something joined his pumping blood — something thinner, something more freely flowing that Bentley could feel, could hear.

Tears.

Bellamy was crying.

“-ley. Bentley.”

Bentley snapped back into reality and glanced at Asten, who was watching him warily, waving a hand in front of his face. Actually, everyone was looking at him now. Even Valor and Rockie.

“What’re you staring at?” Asten continued, glancing over at Bellamy’s door.

Bentley shrugged, looking down at his own lap, face burning a little from all the eyes. “He’s crying. Bellamy. I can feel his tears.”

A moment of quiet passed.

“Remind me not to cry myself to sleep anymore,” Rockie muttered, and Valor snickered, elbowing him lightly.

Varian tapped his fingertips on the table, near the crystals that were still sitting there. “I brought a bunch of board games. Why don’t we pick one and ask if he wants to come play? I was really scared my first year, too, so I can imagine what he’s thinking, especially since he’s the youngest in the dorm.”

Everyone shared eye contact, silently considering their options, and they seemed to get the sentiment — after all, they all had to have had a first year at Redwood, too, right?

“Yeah, go ahead,” Valor replied, his voice strangely gentle compared to what it had been earlier. Rockie reached over and shook Koa’s shoulder, with a not-so-gentle half-shout of get up, idiot, we’re playing a game!

Varian rose from his spot between Bentley and Asten and made his way to the little kitchen area, opening one of the cabinets, which was full of games instead of groceries. He pulled out a pile of brightly colored boxes and brought them back to the table, then made for Bellamy’s door.

The only game out of the, like, seven that Varian brought over that Bentley knew how to play was monopoly. There was one called Sorry, and one called Life, and one called Risk, and one called Chutes and Ladders. Bentley had never played any of those. He had to move his head to see the ones on the bottom, which the boxes revealed to be Candyland and Yahtzee. He didn’t know those either.

He glanced back up when Varian knocked softly on Bellamy’s bedroom door.

“Hey, there, Bell! My name is Varian. I’m just coming to tell you that we’re all about to play a board game together, if you want to join us,” He said with an audible smile. (He was really good at that.) “I’ll even save you the coolest pieces.”

Bentley closed his eyes and listened hard, everyone’s differing heartbeats thumping into his mind before he was able to single out Bellamy’s. It was…

… getting faster.

… and faster.

He swapped from the blood to the tears, which were also coming faster, bigger. He wasn’t crying anymore, he was sobbing. But he was silent all the same.

It was when Bellamy’s heart rate reached a solid hundred-and-forty that Bentley opened his eyes. “Varian, stop. It’s making it worse.”

Again, Bentley felt everyone's eyes. Varian immediately took a step back.

“Oh… okay. Well. Uh. If you change your mind, you can come out here with us,” He finalized, then moved away from the door hesitantly, eyes lingering there for a few moments.

Bentley frowned, glancing down at the table, keeping Bellamy’s heartbeat audible in the back of his mind.

Rockie frowned, too. “That sucks. My first year was rough, too,” He muttered, clicking his phone off and letting it drop to the table. “I hope he takes it better than I did.”

“Bellamy?” Koa asked with a yawn, glancing over at the door Varian was retreating from.

“Yeah, dude, we've been talking about this for, like, ten minutes. Wake up,” Valor replied. Koa rolled his eyes.

Bentley glanced over at Asten, who was looking at Bellamy’s door.

And suddenly, the heartbeat in the back of his mind was drowned out by something else — his phone ringing.

He glanced down, pulling the little device out of his pocket and glancing at the caller ID. He half expected Bruce, half expected Dick, maybe Tim. It wasn’t any of them.

It was Vera.

With a cringe, he hit the green button.

Vera’s face appeared on the screen, and she was smiling slightly, her black and purple streaked hair tied up into these intricate looking braids. He could see a pair of bunk beds identical to his and Asten’s in the background.

“Hey there, Red. Heard you’re in Aristotle,” She smiled brightly. In the background, Bentley heard a small voice say: hey, is that Bentley? And not a second later, Layla appeared on the screen, her blonde hair only halfway secured in a ponytail with a hair tie in her hand. “Hey!”

Bentley glanced up, and thankfully, only Asten and Varian were looking at him. Rockie and Valor were preoccupied with their own phones, and Koa was falling asleep again.

“Hey,” He replied, turning the volume down since they were basically yelling.

“We’re in Columbus, right next to you,” Vera smiled. “Let’s go do something.”

Bentley blinked. Girls asking him to go do something? Something like what? Something like leave his dorm something?

“What do you mean?”

Vera scoffed. “I mean they don’t take attendance on moving day, and you’ve never been to New York before. Let’s hit the city for a while.”

Bentley blinked, again. Just a bunch of kids going out into New York alone? The little Bruce in the back of his mind didn’t think that was a good idea.

“Oh come on, I can see all the hesitant on your face. You’re a big boy now. Bring some of your roommates, I’ll bring some of mine,” She smiled. Then she turned her head and yelled: “Georgia! Get Summer, we’re breaking out!”

It was that point that Asten leaned over, suddenly very, very interested. “Georgia?”

Vera glanced back at the camera. “Yeah, Georgia Vallie. She said she saw you guys at the diner the other day.”

Bentley glanced up at Asten with a little smirk, and Asten looked back at him, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, if you’re going out into the city I can’t let you go alone.”

Bentley snickered.

“I’ll go too. I love New York,” Varian said with a smile, bouncing a little in his seat. “What about you, Val?”

Valor shrugged. “Someones gotta stay here with the little guy,” He stated, pointing to Bellamy’s door. “Plus, it’s hot, and I can’t leave without my massive hoodie.”

Varian frowned. “Poo. Rockie?”

“Nah. Can't leave him alone or he’ll probably punch something,” He replied blankly, not glancing up from his phone.

“Koa?” Varian asked, and when Koa didn’t budge, he shouted: “Koa!”

“What?” He grumbled back, lifting his head off the table.

“We’re going into the city with Summer. Wake up and get ready,”

Koa grumbled again, but surprisingly, pulled himself off of the bench. Varian snickered, leaning in close to Bentley. “He has a massive crush on Summer.”

“Shut up, Var,” He muttered as he staggered toward their room.

“Everyone knows it!”

“So, is that a yes?” Vera questioned, and Bentley glanced back down at the screen, where she and Layla were smiling in anticipation.

Bentley silenced the little Bruce in his head that kept saying that wasn’t smart. He was a teenager now, right? And teenagers break rules and stuff. So it was normal. And normal was what he wanted.

“Where are we meeting?”

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

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