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nny11writes · 4 years

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13, 16, 18, 43 and 50 for tha ask game please and thank you :P Just, many many numbers lol

13. What is your planning process?

My first reaction was to squint and go “Do I have a process?” which is probably an answer on its own lol!

It depends is the actual answer.

Like most writers I start a fic because of one scene or dialogue or description that I really, really, really wanted to write and then I have to figure out where it belongs.

I almost always start by just...writing. I used to be 100% stream of consciousness writer. I’d sit down at least once a day with a blank document and without ANY forethought or direction I’d start writing a fic. It was always as much fun for me as my readers to see where a story would go because I literally had no clue.

These days, as I’m putting THE THING down on the page my brain is shrieking ideas at me so I start slapping them down too, but I’ve got a better filter so not everything goes down. There’s a lot of [WHAT IS THIS THING PLS PLS FIGURE IT OUT] and [PAST OR PRESENT TENSE MF MAKE UP YO MIND] at this stage.

This is where I actually start planning. I’ve got a bunch of stuff down, a vague direction, and a lot of ideas so this is usually where I sit down to do some planning. Am I aiming to write a short fic or long fic, one shot or multi-chapter, where are we, how many characters, etc. I leave things pretty wide open, while sometimes it’s fun to challenge myself to meet very specific goals it’s usually frustrating to me so nothing is set in stone. Literally. Even when I’ve posted if someone leaves a comment that’s amazing or enough people liked it I’ll usually try to write more in that fic or another fic with those ideas.

How To Quit You is a great example of how my loosey goosey planning works. I don’t know if people realize but that fic was originally supposed to be ONLY that first chapter. I wrote it in an hour tops for 2019 glitra week and all I knew at that point was I wanted to do a western with some romance tropes to it (hence the exes who still love each other thing).

Once I realized how many people seemed to love it and wanted to see more I sat down and planned it out. I first decided how I wanted to write the story (hence going back in time ~15 years) and then I created chapter titles and had vague descriptions for them. Once it was all down I went through it again and made adjustments, then created a timeline (Micah died in 1868, they meet in 1870, Catra works BMR rails 1870-1880 min, etc etc). And that’s it. I made an outline and used it as my idea bouncing ground and map and huge parts of it have changed as we’ve gone along. Catra was going to become a drunkard out in [REDACTED] after the timeline met up with chapter one. I scrapped that because it didn’t fit with other details and changes I’d made. I re-wrote the chapter and now I gotta scrap that and re-write it again do to reasons that would spoilers.

Let’s Try This Again is another hilarious example, because chapters 1-6 were meticulously planned and I charted out a whole story around them that I was going to stick to damn it all! And then Palpatine hip checked me and changed the course of the story. I still included a lot from my original VERY detailed outline, but some chapters were nixed completely and others added in too sooooo...

I’m not a true pantser because I do some planning, but I’m not a planner because I leave huge chucks practically up to the whims of fate. I’m a plantser.

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

Sometimes!

I think some of my best works are from prompts (WHICH ARE ALWAYS OPEN, HINT HINT, NUDGE NUDGE, KNOW WHAT I MEAN KNOW WHAT I MEAN) specifically.

I rarely use sentence starters but I think I’ve done okay when I did.

But fandom headcanons? Oh hell yeah baby now we’re talking!

Can Anakin cook but Padme can’t? Hell yeah!

Togruta have some cat like features so Ahsoka is obligate carnivore and color blind? WOOOOOOOO BOYYYYYYYYYYYY!

"This is not because I like you.” is 100% something that everyone in the Horde says when trying to cover their asses, Catra’s just a useless lesbian and has to use it A Lot More Than Most. Awwwwww yeah, that’s the good stuff!

Glimmer and Catra talk to one another but only have serious conversations sitting back to back post canon. I DON’T MAKE THE RULES!

Like, god, fandom headcanon is practically what my fics live on lol! I’m not great at writing things in canon or sticking to canon, and people are amazing and smart so of course I’m going to steal their cool ideas and then mess with them until they’re my own.

18. What is your favorite writing prompt?

...I gotta be honest I have no clue lol. I’ve liked basically every prompt I’ve ever gotten (there’s literally only been 2 that I got and went “...oh.” and of those two I was able to bend the prompt into things I liked a lot! One of them is actually posted and people like it, and then other is currently sitting in the naughty prompt corner for crimes of FIGHTING ME TO A STANDSTILL every time I write a few sentences for it, but I do actually like it now lol).

I think my favorite style of prompt are ones that are open for some interpretation. You know that joke about you know a writer based on how they respond to a one word prompt like “fall” or “cold” or even “love”? I love that kind of stuff! Heck, even things with a more narrow focus are fun to play with. For one of my prompt fics I was able to flip the script and have the character everyone expects the unrequited pining from to instead be the unattainable beloved instead.

*Marge potato meme* I just think they’re neat!

43. Guilty pleasure tropes and scenarios?

None, because I am very loud about what I enjoy and refuse to have things I enjoy ripped away by strangers on the interwebs.

Okay, more seriously, as far as things that others might think are guilty pleasure tropes and scenarios?

I love a good “morons to repressed idiots to lovers” slow burn. Yes, yesssss, let them be absolute fools and make MASSIVE mistakes that they have no reason to make. There was a miscommunication? Delightful! Oh look, they’re both flirting with one another but think the other one is just joking around with them. I WILL TAKE ANOTHER 200K OF THEM SUFFERING THANK YOU!

I love AUs man, every time I see someone who really hates coffee shop AUs or highschool AUs or modern AUs I end up getting grumpy and I go find some of those AUs to read because I love them. The AUs I love the most change fandom to fandom. Not a huge fan of modern AU for star wars, but an absolute slut for them in She Ra. Palpatine chokes on a bagel and I live, but if that happened to Horde Prime I’d be pissed. *shrug* I just know that some people really don’t like or even outright hate AUs, and I do not understand them at all. Like, good for them and I hope they find the fics they do enjoy! But also, why???????

I think my “cringiest” one is that I actually really like A/B/O as long as they flip the script somehow or delve into how something like that would actually effect the world it exists in. Is sex in public a common and acceptable thing b/c they can’t control themselves? Do jobs and schools give people time off for heats and ruts? Is it considered antiquated and anyone who struggles with their biology is considered lazy or stupid? Do celebrities sometimes get in trouble with fans or even lose their jobs/prestige after showing off their new mating mark? GIVE ME THE WORLD BUILDING I WANT TO KNOW! But if it’s a really boring traditional A/B/O...like, what’s the point there?

Please don’t misunderstand me here. These three examples are all things that are WILDLY stupid in their own rights, and I love them dearly both because of and regardless of that!

50. Can we get a teaser for an upcoming chapter?

It’s All Fun and Games Until...Stop! Stop! We’re Already Gay!

AKA the one where they all go to Mystacor to relax in the steam grotto and have to deal with seeing one another in tight fitting and wet underwear. The thirst is high.

“So…” Bow started conversationally as Sea Hawk put the finishing touches on Bow’s freshly painted nails. “How doomed are they? Are we making bets?”

Mermista and Sea Hawk made significant eye contact before looking at him pitifully.

“What?” Bow asked, starting to sweat nervously. “What!?”

“Nothing, just-” Sea Hawk didn’t even get to finish.

“You need to get your girlfriend to get her girlfriends under control, and like, I knooooow that’s a tall order or whatever. But uuuuuuuuugggggghhh, we are going to die.”

“Girlfriend!?” Bow’s voice cracked painfully. “Ha! A-ha! Ha! W-who? I don’t, I don’t have a girlfriend, what are you even talking about?”

“Uuuuuggggggghh!”

“There, there my dear. We have survived worse.”

#ask game #writer game #fanfiction game #fanfic ask game #wip #tropes #planning process #how do write?#guilty pleasures #thanks for playing! :D #venn364

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moonchild-sara · 6 years

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Renegades ~ Chapter Three ~ A Kiribaku fanfic

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Summary: Bakugou and Kirishima become roommates at a boys only juvenile home. In this chapter Kirishima reveales something about himself.

Warning: English is not my mother language. My english vocabulary isn’t too big, so you might find my writing style very simple and with some grammar errors.

Thanks to my beta reader: @superdweeb

The boys all have a tough relationship with their parents. I know that Bakugous parents would never do what they do in my fic, but it’s an AU and I just replaced most of the parents with dickheads (:

A couple of weeks later Kirishima claimed Bakugous services as his private teacher for the first time. They found a quiet place for learning in the library of the juvenile home. It was a small library with the option to order books from somewhere else. There were only a few boys who actually went to the library. One of them being Todoroki. It was no surprise to Bakugou that the boy with the giant birthmark over his left eye sat on one of the armchairs and read a book.

Bakugou and Kirishima sat down on one of the two only desks in the library. “So, what exactly do you need to learn?” Bakugou asked. “I have a math test tomorrow and -” - “Tomorrow?!” Bakugou exclaimed. “Fucking tomorrow?! You don’t start learning for tests the day before!” “I usually don’t start learning at all so that’s an improvement” Kirishima laughed. “God, you’re such an idiot…” Kirishima ignored him and explained: “Our teacher gave us these problems and said if we’re able to solve them we’re good for the test tomorrow. So I just need to be able to solve these two pages!” “Manageable” Bakugou mumbled. “Try to get as far as you can. I’ll help when you’re stuck.” With a nod, Kirishima started his homework while Bakugou watched him. He was slow. It was almost frustrating to exactly know how he could solve a problem whereas Kirishima seemed to struggle a lot. Bakugou had to bite his lips to not scream at him. He was so fucking slow. “Okay, here’s the problem” Kirishima finally said. “I’m usually able to do the easier problems, but when they are getting more complicated and they put all these letters in there, I’m lost.” “Threat the letters like numbers” Bakugou grumbled. “But they aren’t numbers! I can’t just add a and b!” “Of course not! Why do people always get so confused the moment they see numbers in a math problem?” “Because it’s not supposed to be there! Who thought it was a good idea to put numbers into math?” “Can you two keep it down?” Todoroki asked. “Sorry -” Kirishima wanted to answer but Bakugou was faster: “Go read somewhere else if we bother you so much!” “Damn, Bakugou, you don’t always have to be so mean,” Kirishima said and then turned back towards Todoroki: “I’m sorry. We’ll be quieter.” “Thank you.” “Can you explain to me how I can solve the complicated problems?” Kirishima whispered and Bakugou answered in normal volume: “Yes, but I’m not going to fucking whisper.” He couldn’t remember if he ever needed that much patience with someone or something as he needed now with Kirishima and his inability to understand simple math problems. Everything he needed to explain twice or even three times, he had to simplify his explanation and went through every problem with baby steps. In the meantime, Todoroki finished reading and left the library. It went dark outside and Bakugou had to turn on the lights. They were alone. “We only have an hour left and then we have to go back to our room” Bakugou realized. “And we barely finished the first page” Kirishima groaned. He looked miserable. “I’m really stupid, aren’t I?” He didn’t say it with his usual smirk which let Bakugou know that he shouldn’t take him too seriously. His frustration was real and Bakugou could feel it. Kirishima was like a book, you could simply read his feelings right off his face. “A lot of people struggle with math” Bakugou reassured him. “I’m sure there are other subjects you’re way better at.” Kirishima sighed loudly. “Yeah, but… I’m…” He starred at his textbook and his ears changed into a red color. “I’m dyslexic.” He didn’t give Bakugou time to react, but justified right away: “I know this doesn’t mean I’m stupid or something, but I need really long to read stuff and even if I’m good at certain subjects, it sometimes takes so long for me to read or write so that I’m out of time before I finished the exam! And sometimes, when I have to read out loud in class, I struggle a lot and the other kids make fun of me, so I stopped doing homework. Now I can just say I don’t have the homework instead of embarrassing myself in front of the whole class – damn, I’m sorry, I’m babbling.” He covered his face with his hands. “I saw your look, you’re annoyed because I’m such a slow learner.” Bakugou stared at him with his mouth open. His thought process was fast, he made a decision, took a pencil and pointed at his homework. “Here, I can show you a simple trick to solve these kinds of problems,” he said much calmer than before. Kirishima lowered his hands and listened with his face and ears still bright red. They stayed in the library as long as possible. A caregiver found them and told them to go to their room after 10 pm. It was Bakugou who made the proposal to keep on studying until they finished both pages. Kirishima was able to solve the last problems on his own. “You were a lot faster at the end than at the beginning” Bakugou noticed. “I think you’re just a slow starter.” “I guess” Kirishima smirked. “You should start doing your homework again.” And if these kids make fun of you, I’ll beat the shit out of them. Kirishima nodded. “Thank you, Bakugou, for helping me.” “Don’t say stuff like that, it pisses me off!” Bakugou yelled, but Kirishima laughed it off.

“You better tell me you rocked that stupid test” was the first thing that Bakugou said when the two met near the skate park after school. An ice cream shop was their meeting point, where the two boys wanted to grab some ice cream and chill at the waterside of the river before going to the park. “Well...” Kirishima scratched the back of his head with nervous laughter. “I kind of forgot some of the stuff you told me.” “That's because you came whining to me about this exam yesterday! From now on we're going to study two or three times a week and you'll going to clean the bathroom on your own!” “Wait – what?!” “It's payment for my work” Bakugou demanded. “I hate cleaning the bathroom, it's gross, so you're going to do it!” “Ugh, I hate it, too” Kirishima struggled, but eventually he yelled motivated: “But if this is what I have to do, I'll do it!” “Good, now pay for the ice cream, too.” “I'm short on money!” Kirishima protested. “And I'm broke. I only get the shitty pocket money from the foster home, but your mother gives you money too, right? So you have to have more than me!” “I mean, yea it's true, but still -” “I'll pay next time” Bakugou said before he could really put thought in it. Actually he wanted to get Kirishima to buy him some ice cream because he had like 2 bucks left from his pocket money and still a little bit over a week to go till next month – without promising to buy ice cream next time. But seeing Kirishimas disappointed face after demanding it so meanly, made Bakugou say his promise faster than he could think. Why the fuck do I care for this dumb idiot?! Kirishima smiled brightly. “All right! Which type do you want?” A couple of minutes the later the two boys sat on a small wall right by the riverside. It was a beautiful day with a bright blue sky, a little bit too hot for Bakugous tastes. A lot of people were sitting on the grass picnicking, kids played, bikers drove by and teenagers swam at the rivers edge while an elder yelled at them for being to risky. For a while Bakugou and Kirishima ate their ice cream silently, sitting right next to each other. Eventually it was Bakugou who broke the silence: “About your dyslexia. I thought about what you told me yesterday and I'm a bit confused why you have to read out loud in class. Doesn't the teacher know you have dyslexia?” “Every teacher knows” Kirishima answered and shrugged his shoulders. “But some don't care. My homeroom teacher constantly tells me that I have to challenge myself with reading out loud in class. I told her it makes me uncomfortable, but she doesn't care. Sometimes when I refuse to read, she puts me in detention.” “Bitch” Bakugou grumbled and Kirishima laughed. “I should have known” Bakugou continued. “There were rarely any teachers who were at least a bit understanding towards my anger issues... I guess it's like that for everyone with problems that could potentially disturb the teachers class.” “Hmm...” Kirishima went silent for a moment and then he asked with caution: “Did anyone ever made fun of you because of your issues?” You mean like provoking me on purpose and then laughing at me while I have an anger meltdown? Bakugou pressed his lips, before he grudgingly answered: “Yea.” Again silence for a few seconds, until Bakugou grabbed Kirishimas chin and pressed his cheeks so suddenly and fast that the boy let out a surprised “Blrgh!” “If you tell anyone, I'll fucking kill you!” Bakugou warned him, his voice sounding like a growl. “I won't!” Kirishima answered, looking like a fish with his cheeks pressed like that. Bakugou let go of him and he rubbed his face. “Let's go to the park.” Bakugou jumped from the wall and Kirishima followed him.

#fanfictioncorner #bnha #boku no hero academia #kiribaku #bakushima #kiribaku fanfic

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secretlystephaniebrown · 6 years

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Time’s Running Out: Papa

Sorry for the delay on this chapter guys!

Here's the thing; it might surprise you to learn it, but this chapter is what inspired me to write this whole fic. Everything else came later, but this chapter was what started me on this path. I had no idea what I was doing when I set out, I certainly couldn't have predicted what it would become, but this is where I started from.

And so, when I set out to write it, I got paralyzed. I wrote other projects instead; fun ones, sure, but I ended up putting this on the backburner while I worked through it in my head.

But it's done now, and I hope you'll enjoy it!

Summary: The Reds and Blues; and their respective Freelancers, find themselves stranded on a strange planet named Chorus. Secrets, lies, and the unexpected seem to lie around every corner, and there might be even larger threats looming over the horizon.

They’re possibly even less ready for Chorus than Chorus is for them.

Pairings: Lots of friendships, Suckington, Yorkalina, Chex, eventual Yorkimbalina, possible others.

Start

Ao3

Everything was falling apart around them.

It was a simple, inescapable fact of the world right now.

Their big trick, the siege, was falling apart from under them, and Thatcher wasn’t even standing his ground, instead, running away like a coward. Control was going to be furious. The big finale had failed because of Tucker and that fucking AI fragment, and before that Locus hadn’t realized that Freelancers had infiltrated their squad, and before that Foxtrot had showed up, and before that, the ship hadn’t even crashed properly so the goddamn Reds and Blues hadn’t died.

Sharkface and the Meta hadn’t even managed to kill Tucker and the others, even though they’d practically been gift wrapped. They couldn’t even get a straight answer out of the Meta about how it had happened, because the only one who could understand him was Price, and Price wasn’t being helpful, instead only talking cryptically to Locus about what it meant to be a fucking soldier, and yeah, Felix knew all about that bullshit; at least Locus had transferred his weird fixation from Washington to the Meta. All this bullshit about the perfect soldier… and Price was feeding right into it, that asshole.

Felix really couldn’t wait to get his hands on that sword. He was going to kill everyone on this planet, and then use the sword to mop up the rest of them. He’d keep Siris and Locus around, sure, but the rest? Price’s fast mouth wouldn’t be able to save him from being skewered.

Felix had seen Tucker’s sword in action, and the thought of being able to use one to its full potential sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

What a waste it was, languishing in the hands of that idiot. And that wasn’t even thinking of the potential it had, for the technology on the planet. There was so much stuff, just lying around, and if they could unlock it…

Alien technology could do the kinds of things that humans had always spun into stories; the Sanghelli understood more of this shit than they did, but not by much. There were all sorts of stories; raising the dead, living forever, and that wasn’t even getting into the towers that Sharkface had mentioned that were on this planet.

If he could control it, he would become a god. Hargrove wouldn’t be able to stop him; the question of what next? After Chorus was finally answered, in the form of a brilliant alien weapon.

Those thoughts soothed him as they headed to the temple. That, and Locus’s presence beside him.

It was why they worked best together. Felix’s energy kept Locus on his toes, and Locus steadied Felix’s mania. Siris had kept Felix on task, had kept Locus flexible by being able to see the big picture.

And they had kept him alive, even if he hadn’t been able to see it.

He had been wilting, stifled by the everyday drags of domesticity. He’d been kept inside too long. Now he was out in the sun, and even if Siris hadn’t realized it yet, he was blossoming.

By the time they finished this mission, Siris would realize that the divorce was the best thing ever to happen to him, even if he would never admit it out loud.

This had always been his guilty pleasure; it was why he had hidden it from Megan and the kids, pretending to do above the board work. Siris knew, deep down, that he was addicted to all of this. The distance of the sniper rifle, the steady calm of being in armor, in control. Felix knew this; he had spent years learning Siris inside and out, the same way he had learned Locus. The only fault in Siris was that damned conscious, but even that could be handled. He was here, on Chorus, after all, despite the misgivings he would have once harbored.

Locus might have hesitated, but the years had numbed him to all of it. Any traces of “Sam” were long dead, like Isaac.

If Felix could bide his time, Mason would be dead too.

It was why Felix knew there was no way that he could let Siris be the one to kill Foxtrot; there was no way that he could be allowed even the smallest sense of closure, or worse, absolution. Siris was goal oriented, and if Foxtrot died at his hand…

Siris might remember that there had been a time when he’d had comrades who weren’t Felix and Locus, for starters. Felix would rather prevent that kind of self-discovery. Far better to see if he could trip him up further.

It would be a long fall to the bottom; it had been for Locus. But at the end of it… Felix glanced at Locus sideways and grinned to himself.

He was more than happy with the results.

“Over here,” Sharkface called, and Felix stepped up quickly. He wasn’t about to let the guy whose next role in this epic story of Chorus was as a sushi platter get his hands on the sword first.

It was casually lying on the ground, and Felix grinned, bending over to examine it. “Why didn’t you pick it up?” He said. He rolled the hilt over in his hands. It felt heavy for a moment, like it was meant for an alien with strength much greater than a human’s, but then, suddenly, it was lighter. The perfect heft and weight.

“Are you kidding?” Sharkface snorted. “I heard that Sim Trooper who picked it up got knocked up with an alien baby by that thing. I’ll pass.”

Felix stared at him for a moment. Sharkface stared back. It was kind of stupid, given that they were both wearing helmets, but Felix refused to blink anyways. It was a matter of pride.

“Were you listening to the blue idiot? Fuck, you’re really a dumbass if you believe anything that comes out of his mouth.”

“It was in their official files!”

“Probably because of the blue idiot!”

“Doesn’t Lavernius Tucker have a son?” Locus asked, sounding smug, like he knew something that Felix didn’t. It was only then that Felix remembered that Locus read all the background material for every mission, and even though he’d been obsessing over Washington like a teenage girl reading over a profile of a celebrity in a glossy magazine, he’d probably taken the time to reading Tucker’s file.

“Well… yeah! But he’s not an alien.” He definitely would have heard about it if Junior was an alien; Tucker hadn’t been able to shut up about him. Basketball star,

“Are you sure about that?”

Felix was not about to admit that he’d never actually looked at the photographs that Tucker had tried to shove under his nose. He had no interest in kids, and it wasn’t like the brat was even on Chorus to provide leverage, so there was no reason to, okay?

“Look, I saw pictures, okay? Nice, normal boarding school.”

Sharkface and Locus said nothing, and Felix scowled.

They just stood there for a few moments before one of the idiot pirates barged in, breaking the weird tension that Felix had no idea how to handle. “Sir! We’ve got hostiles incoming!”

“Identification?” Locus called, turning away.

“We’ve spotted the Reds and Blues, plus Agents Carolina and York. Possibly Agent Texas, but it’s difficult to tell.”

“Agent Texas will be here,” Locus said immediately. “I doubt she was willing to let the Simulation Troopers be out here alone once she recognized they were in danger.”

“Washington’s still back at Armonia, according to Thatcher,” Sharkface said, and he was on edge. The tantalizing possibility of revenge, if Felix had to guess. “So it’s just those three for the Freelancers.”

“The Meta did manage to confirm that he killed Private Church, but Doctor Grey was with them.” Locus added, and when had he learned to speak Meta? “So that leaves their numbers at twelve.”

Felix felt himself grinning beneath his helmet, the kind of grin he’d always had to hide when he was with the New Republic. It wasn’t the grin that he could pass off as part of the smarmy mercenary with a heart of gold routine. It was the kind of smile that came before the kill. Not just any kind of kill, but a good kill. The kind that Chrous, for all of the grandiosity and scale, rarely offered.

He flicked his wrist while holding the sword, like he’d seen Tucker do so many times while with the New Republic, and he laughed with delight as the bright white blade emerged. Something hummed in his bones; a kind of power that he’d never known he’d been missing, but now it was all he could think about it. It was intoxicating, knowing that he was holding the kind of weapon that changed worlds.

What a waste one of these had been in the hands of Lavernius Tucker. What had he done with it? Nothing.

“Well there’s three of us and twelve of them,” Felix said. “What do you guys say to setting a trap?”

Sharkface and Locus turned to look at him, and, okay, for a second Felix could understand why Locus liked Sharkface. The guy had an eagerness to him that was… refreshing, after working with Locus for so long.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Carolina!”

Carolina felt her heart rise in her chest for a moment, as she spotted the mongoose. Texas was driving, and York was holding on to her. But then he no longer was holding onto Tex, and instead was barreling towards her.

“York,” she said, but anything else she had to say was cut off, because York was crushing her tightly in an embrace.

“The Meta?” Tex demanded, her voice tight.

“Not sure,” Tucker said. “Where’s Wash?”

“Armonia. He had to stay back.”

Carolina could see Tucker and Kai both visibly wilt at that. She should reprimand them, but York was still hugging her, so she didn’t really have any room to talk.

“Guys, no time,” Church said, and Carolina couldn’t help but smile when his projection appeared. It was human sized and gleaming white. At least he was okay. “We’ve got to get the sword now.”

Carolina let herself hug York back quickly, while everyone was distracted by Church. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered to her, before letting go.

She looked away, unsure of how to respond to that. How did he manage to complicate everything? How did her tongue end up so uncertain of itself whenever he was around?

Sometimes, she really hated her father. Maybe it was because of him that she was unable to sort out her own feelings. York could say how he felt, but Carolina didn’t even dare give them words in her own head.

Feelings only got people hurt; love only got people hurt. She had seen how loving and losing her mother had utterly destroyed her father. She had lost York once before, or thought she had at least. And now they were at war again, with all of the dangers and complications that came with it, and she could lose him at any moment. Him, Wash, the Reds and Blues, Kimball…

She froze for a moment, unsure of why Vanessa Kimball of all people had ranked up there with the others. She barely knew the other woman, really. And yet…

York gave her that head tilt of his that meant he was smiling, and she wished that she didn’t know him so well. She wished that him being here didn’t make her feel better, because there was still no one else she’d rather have watching her back than him. Texas and Wash were better in a fight, but there was still something so familiar about him. Even after all these years, the two of them knew how to fight together.

If they had to fight these specters of the past—Sharkface, the Meta, and this Siris… at least they’d do it together.

Too bad she didn’t have the words to actually tell York that, because she had the emotional vocabulary of someone raised by Leonard Church the first.

<Give yourself a break,> Epsilon chided her. <We’ve got a planet to save, remember? You can worry about your love triangle bullshit later.>

Right.

Focus.

(She pointedly ignored Epsilon’s comment about a love triangle.)

She took a breath, and they headed out.

They charged into the caves, hoping they weren’t going to be too late. The building was a maze, so maybe they hadn’t found it yet.

“Split up,” Carolina said. “Be careful, stay on the comms.”

“I’m going invisible,” Tex said. She nudged York. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Big words for a woman who’s got her boyfriend literally inside her brain!” York yelled as Tex faded from view.

“Let’s move,” Carolina said. “Tucker, Caboose, Kai. You’re with me. Sarge, you lead a squad, York, you do the same.”

“Hey, we outrank him!” Simmons objected.

“Don’t worry about it,” York said, patting him on the arm. “You and Grif go with Sarge. Donut? Lopez?”

“Oh boy! I’ve always wanted to learn more about the secret parts of a Freelancer!”

“¡Espere! No te dividas idiotas, es una trampa!”

“Lopez! That’s not a nice thing to call Carolina!” Donut said, sounding shocked. “Guess he wants to go with you, Carolina.”

“Fine by me,” Carolina said. “Let’s move.”

York and Donut went down the left hand corridor, Sarge, Grif, and Simmons went down the center corridor, while Carolina, the blues, and Lopez took the right.

Less than fifty feet down, a steel door slammed down from the ceiling, preventing a retreat.

“Fuck!”

Locus had wondered who was going to head in the direction of the trap.

It was luck, and luck alone that had brought Foxtrot here.

Felix was further back, searching for the pink soldier that had come with him. The color should have made him easy to find, but he was having no luck, and was cursing about it on the radio. Locus muted him; he would require all of his focus here.

“You’ve already got the sword, don’t you?” Foxtrot said, his shotgun aimed right at Locus. They were at a standoff. Foxtrot must have realized that it was a trap the moment the partition went down, activated by Felix’s new sword. He’d been prepared, enough so that he had managed to dodge the initial attack.

Which left them here, at a standoff. Sharkface was in a different corridor, setting up a machine that he hoped would burn several of the others alive.

“Of course,” Locus said.

Foxtrot was like Felix in many ways. He was always too eager to talk. Locus would be able to use this and catch him off guard.

“If you use that weapon, a lot of people are going to die.” Foxtrot said earnestly. He sounded just like he had in the past. If Locus had a nostalgic bone in his body, he might have felt something. But he had long since left the past behind. “But you can still turn back. You can stop this.”

“As I understand it, you were the cause of plenty of death during your time with Project Freelancer,” Locus observed. “The mission is what matters.”

“That’s not true,” York said. “I had to learn that lesson the hard way. More than once. Don’t make my mistakes. You can stop this, before it’s too late.” He reached out a hand, and Locus almost wanted to laugh.

“You’re a fool.”

“Oh, come on, Sam,” Foxtrot snapped, and Locus went stock still and cold. “This isn’t a kid in the back woods, this isn’t even a goddamn building full of civilians. This is a planet. This is genocide.” He said the word like it should mean something.

His gun lowered just an inch. That was all the opening that Locus needed.

Locus’s gun went off. The bullets in his rifle were coated in polymers that punctured armor plating, Kevlar, and bone with ease. And it did so, puncturing right through his shoulder. Not a kill shot, but it was enough.

Foxtrot went down with an agonized scream, and finally the AI made an appearance, flickering above its host. “Agent York—”

“I suppose your healing unit will keep you alive longer,” Locus observed, tilting his helmet to one side as he stood over his former teammate. “That truly is fascinating technology. I’m surprised they gave it to an infiltration specialist. I would have thought that it would have better served someone capable of fighting back.” He nudged Foxtrot with his foot, and he let out a groan.

“I would strongly recommend against touching him,” the AI said, moving until it was level with Locus’s face. The armor it wore was outdated, the image low-resolution. The technology of war had moved on, and Foxtrot and his fragment had been left behind. “My security precautions—”

Locus reached down, passing through the hologram as he did so, and yanked the healing unit out of the chest plate. There was an electrical shock that came with it—the AI attempting to stop him, doubtless, but it did not prevent Locus from achieving his task. Foxtrot let out another cry; probably at the loss of the pain medication that the device provided.

“I suppose I will let you keep the parasite until you die,” Locus said, turning the healing unit over in his hands. The hologram was now nowhere to be seen; it had retreated into the safety of Foxtrot’s mind. Perhaps it intended to turn off his pain receptors at the source. “My employer was very interested in learning that two of the fragments remained. I studied Agent Washington’s records from his time as Recovery One. I should be able to copy his retrieval method.”

“Sam,” Foxtrot gasped out, and that was the final straw.

That name meant nothing to him, nothing at all, but Locus could not deny that hearing it again filled him with rage, hot and furious. Locus pressed his foot down on Foxtrot’s neck, and the man let out a strangled noise, squirming beneath him. There. That took care of his inability to hold his tongue.

“You, and those Reds and Blues, are nothing more than distractions,” Locus said. He pressed down harder—it would not take much more pressure before the vertebrae of his neck would snap. Siris would be disappointed that he had not been the one to kill Agent York, but he would understand. “You have done nothing but delay the inevitable. You can try to dredge up the past all you wish, but it is dead, just like this planet. Just like you. You die here.”

“Not going to happen.”

It was a woman’s voice.

And that was the last thought that Locus had before his neck was snapped and he fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut.

#Felix #Agent Carolina #Locus #Time's Running Out #Steph Writes #The BFF Verse #Red vs Blue

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