#pafl fic

[yappin-bout-words]

drafting phase

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78220966

can i get three cheers for fucked women in stem with dubious morals? thank you thank you, written for a january of firsts by @thepromptfoundry, cheers!

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Temnova, when explaining what she does to her more creative subjects, liked to liken the efforts to writing.

Brainstorming.

First draft.

Editing.

Second draft (sometimes).

More editing.

Publication.

She leaves out the part where they’ll always be stuck in the first draft phase. Or maybe it’s editing.

Cut out and cut off bits and pieces. Run tests on samples. Inject them with new chemicals. See what makes them tick.

Hm.

Editing, far closer to editing.

They’re never reaching publication stage is what matters.

Piles of scrapped papers build over the years. Replacing pen after pen. Hundreds of erasers and pencils in use. Whatever it takes to get the right results first try.

You can rewrite a paper as many times as needed.

You only get one good test on a mutant before the data becomes impure due to so many factors. Stress. Fear. Chemical imbalances. Further mutation triggering.

Temnova gets a first draft once with every mutant.

She plans to find out how to make use of it best.

Her darling DT001-319 is the closest she’s ever gotten to multiple first drafts.

The girl squirms on the table.

Oh, she’s perfect. Not a single scar.

She’ll have so much fun.

[the-ghost-of-you]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Parties are For Losers - Ferry (Songs) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Nikita (Parties are For Losers) Additional Tags: Time Loop, no beta we die like nikita, nikita my problematic fave <3, canon typical levels of violence etc, highly probable ooc but its okay Summary:

Nikita Reizner wakes up, goes about his day, and enters the Zone for the last time. Nikita Reizner wakes up, goes about his day, Nadya comes across his mind again and again, and he enters the Zone for the last time. Nikita Reizner wakes up, goes about his day, Nadya comes across his mind again and again, and he enters the Zone for the... last time... wait, what?

Aka what if there was a Nikita death day time loop. Would that be fucked up or what?

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look ma i wrote a fic

[yappin-bout-words]

absence

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78171681

cheers, Sergei fic for january of firsts by @thepromptfoundry, hope ya'll enjoy, peace!

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Sergei’s cutting his hair again.

“His”

What a weird word.

He keeps it clean. Short. He can’t spend time worrying about it, can he now?

Sasha’s worth more of his worries.

A dissonance between the self and the words used to describe the self is unimportant.

-/-/-/-

Olya calls him a dog. A mutt. A pet. A thing.

He likes it more than “good boy” and he’s not sure why.

She doesn’t have any answers for him beyond a shrug.

If it works, it works, is what Olya tells him.

Sergei nods along.

She’s right.

If it works, it works.

Why bother changing what’s always worked and always will work?

It’s easier to stay like this instead of change.

-/-/-/-

Everything is monotonous.

That’s good, though.

It’s better monotonous. Safer. For him. For Sasha. For everyone.

Sergei’s running on fumes as he cooks breakfast.

Sasha’s favorite.

It’s still worth a shot to try and mend it, even if he knows he fucked it up.

The ship has sunk.

The fallacy demands he still try.

Who is he if not a slave to the shackles he handcrafted?

-/-/-/-

Yura calls her Sanya.

Sergei doesn’t bother correcting him.

If she’s Sanya, she’s Sanya.

Good for her.

Spite tastes like poison, envy tightens his throat, ignorance deafens both sensations.

-/-/-/-

Olya gently holds his face in her hands.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I do.”

He doesn’t.

But he does.

If he isn’t her big brother, who else will be?

It’s not like she has a father or a mother to take his place.

He is what he is.

And what he is is starting to crumble.

-/-/-/-

Sanya leaves.

Sergei stops existing entirely.

She, he, they took something with them.

-/-/-/-

“What are you now?”

“Nothing.”

Olya nods along.

It rests it’s head against her, sighing.

Relief is present, maybe.

It can’t tell.

It is nothing without Sanya.

And nothing seems like a good enough word now that it’s said the word out loud for the first time.

“I don’t care.”

Sergei understands how she means the words. Any other day it’d read them the wrong way. It just relaxes further into her instead.

Olya slings an arm around it’s shoulders.

“You got work to do, no?”

“It can wait.”

“Alright.”