#i am not terribly used to writing either of these characters but MAN is jasper a fun pov

[romijuli]

i emerge from my hyrule warriors and vicarious-theater-days to bring you: a gift for @daovihi‘s birthday!!! jasvando is a fun time.

[incomprehensiblelentils]

@dollsome-does-tumblr​ does this and opened it up to anyone and I am feeling chatty today SO!

Because I co-write a lot with my lovely wife, I might answer some questions including those co-written stories, or I might not, depends on how I feel when I get there.

name:

Megan but I go by Lentils most places on the internet, Shadowcrawler over on AO3

fandoms:

at the moment: MCU, especially Agents of SHIELD and Daredevil; Terminator: Dark Fate; Halt and Catch Fire. Oh and I wrote Dollhouse fanfics a thousand years ago. Sometimes I will watch a movie/show and think “those two girls should be gay” and bang out 2k of fic about it and then never write for that fandom again. (I THOUGHT this was going to be HACF but as it turns out, no, it’s not done with me yet.)

where you post:

AO3, at Shadowcrawler. I also have a tumblr @lentils-writes​ where theoretically I post links to fics/advertise them in the tags, because I used to be real precious about not putting porn on this blog, but fuck it.

most popular multi-chapter fic:

Co-written, it’s definitely mallverse, which is I think the reason most writers definitely hate us because it’s very long and there are a lot of tags lmao. The problem is that every tagged character HAS shown up in a significant fashion at some point so we can’t just...untag them! It doesn’t update weekly anymore because we’re exhausted by life lmao so at least there’s that???

As for a multi-chapter fic that was just me, I don’t tend to do that so much, so actually it’s say you will, my 3-chapter Endgame fix-it where Clint dies instead of Natasha and Natasha and Laura have a past. It actually has over 1000 hits which is very exciting! I feel like it’s...niche in a way that is frustrating but understandable lol. I put a lot of my heart into it and some people really liked it, so that’s gratifying.

favorite story you’ve written so far:

Co-written, I think our SHIELD Dollhouse AU is very underrated for the amount of work we put into it. Author bias evident here because I love Dollhouse warts and all, and it’s a lot of fun translating episode plots as well as the general trajectory of the show into stuff that will work with SHIELD characters. We don’t just rewrite episodes, we really try and rework them as needed. Also it features both Skimmons and my beloved rarepair Bobbi/Kara, though of course they won’t get together until later.

Of my own stuff, I’m still really really proud of the AU where Kara Palamas didn’t die. I think that was a pretty severe misstep of the show and I think I did a good job of fixing it. (I haven’t forgotten Kara, promise!)

fic you were nervous to post:

lolololol I wrote some uh. Terminator pornography last year and. They are very porny! I had co-written a bunch of smut obviously, but that was the first time I’d posted like, PWP all by myself on purpose??? and that was TERRIFYING. Also I was very nervous to post the Engame fix-it because that was my own personal goodbye/tribute to Natasha.

how you choose your titles:

They are always either song lyrics or jokes (such as Three Lawyers and a Baby, my Daredevil Accidental Baby Acquisition fic). My WIP docs are always titled either obvious shit like “RoseJannah horse girls” or memes like “what if we belonged to a fire cult and we fucked haha just kidding unless...?” or “Morgan has two mommies.”

do you outline?:

B and I typically outline for the co-written fics, although it’s more often chapter-by-chapter outlines since that’s how we write them. On occasion we’ve fully planned multi-chapter stuff out in advance but that’s less common. Oh and the one-shots are nearly always outlined as well, just to keep ourselves organized.

When I have written planned multi-chapter fics in the past I have used outlines - particularly for the Kara one and I had to do that for the SHIELD Kill Bill AU because I was trying to follow the format of the movie. For things that are allegedly supposed to be one-shots I almost never outline, which turns out to be a terrible idea when they inevitably balloon beyond my control and become 45k like say you will. That one, I wrote out a list of scenes I thought needed to be in it and then I wrote about 75% of those scenes and then I wrote a bunch more scenes I hadn’t planned for. Don’t be like me, kids!

complete fics:

According to AO3, 89 as of right now. Uh, you do not want me to list all of them, here’s a link, I guess!

in progress:

I don’t understand what the difference is between this question and the WIP questions lmao help????

posted WIPs that I have active plans to continue at this time:

Cowritten: mallverse as I said, and its femslash smut oneshots spinoff and character flashbacks spinoff and older characters/teachers spinoff (these get updated, uh, irregularly), the first half of a Piper/Snowflake SHIELD s7 fic that we are planning on finishing the second half of soonish, SHIELD Dollhouse AU, SHIELD Teen Beach AU, SHIELD Buffy AU. You may notice a pattern!

By myself, I have: Have Your Elf a Merry Little Christmas, a Terminator Hallmark Christmas fic that I ambitiously posted the first chapter of in 2019 and then lost steam immediately (I am going to go back to it sooner or later bc I had some cute ideas for it); the SHIELD Fate of the Furious AU that has one chapter to go and which I do intend on finishing eventually; Three Lawyers and a Little Lady, the Daredevil Accidentally Baby Acquisition AU that is literally just cute kidfic and poly avocados and which I have a bunch of ideas for and just need to buckle down and finish some.

posted WIPs that I have given up on:

Lol so there’s a Dollhouse Caroline/Bennett Doctor Who AU that I wrote purely as idfic and which nobody ever cared about except me, and I think that ship has sailed! RIP darlings. I also had an ongoing Skimmons series waaaay back when where I posted oneshots that were like missing scenes or gay readings for each s1 episode, and I just feel like it would be inauthentic to even try and finish it at this point. (It does include the first ever Skimmons fic to be posted on AO3! Really truly, there’s one fic that shows up as older but it’s an ongoing fic and was updated with the tag way after I posted mine.)

exchange fics due soon/unrevealed:

I haven’t done an exchange since like 2015 lololol I am so bad at them. I am currently working on finishing up my MCU Femslash bingo card, very late, and I do have plans for almost all of the remaining squares!

WIPs that live in my fanfic folder and are incomplete and who knows when they’ll be finished:

“RoseJannah horse girls,” which has been put on hold temporarily but is literally just Rose and Jannah being gay while riding orbaks

half of a Daisy/Gwen fic from Marvel Rising because I know they’re not making any more of those but I stg those two were really gay

multiple fics about Elise Nelson-Page including: avocados Halloween with smol Elise, Aunt Elektra very reluctantly taking smol Elise shopping until she realizes smol Elise also likes weapons (she buys her a fake katana), Uncle Frank is a pushover and spoils the shit out of Elise, and baby Elise has a high fever and everyone freaks out but then she gets better and smile at them for the first time (inspired by baby me lol).

coming soon/not yet started:

“Morgan has two mommies,” yet another Endgame fix-it where Maya Hansen did not die in Iron Man 3 and she resurfaces and she and Pepper kiss and eventually she adopts Morgan

Claire and Colleen go on a nice date to get coffee/tea where Danny doesn’t interrupt them goddammit

Bobbi/Kara Warehouse 13 AU which is sort of like “For the Team” but gayer ft. grappling hook

X-Men: Evolution Tabby/Amara fluff

Cameron/Donna character study disguised as smut

Grace proposes to Dani with a ring made out of the metal from her power source and Carl officiates the wedding 

Dani gets horny watching Grace eat a peach and jerks off and Grace ends up hearing her and then they fuck (I have been calling this “the peach fic” in my head but I gotta stop being delicate about it lmfao it is just porn)

B and I have plans to do a Nico/Karolina Jasper in Deadland AU but we keep forgetting

I MUST WRITE FOGGY AND KAREN SADLY FUCKING IN A CHURCH WHILE THEY MOURN MATT THIS YEAR I STG

do you accept prompts:

uhhhhhh I have on occasion written a prompt for someone before but it’s pretty rare and I have enough trouble writing the shit I come up with in my own head lol. but never say never?

upcoming story you are most excited to write:

I’ve got a bit of the Bobbi/Kara Warehouse fic written and it’s nice to go back to that world. Also I’m weirdly excited about the Cam/Donna smutty character study I mentioned above, I have a lot of what I think are good ideas for it and it’ll be fun.

tagging @unwind-myself @swiftzeldas @swashbucklery @loved-the-stars-too-fondly and, if you want to, you!

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (35) Burning

I had the flu last week! It was super not fun! Make sure to wash your hands and stay home as much as you can! Besides the big bad the flu is also afoot and it sucks!

As I stated in an earlier chapter, I’m a Christian. Because of the nature of this story, I wanted to incorporate some elements of my faith into it. I find it weird to impress my faith on fictional characters, so I usually don’t, but my God is a healer. It makes sense that He’d be mentioned. I’ll probably keep it kind of subtle.

Not this chapter though. THIS ONE GOES HARD. STRAP IN BOYS!!

It’s also REALLY GROSS at parts. Sorry in advance.

(Also, this is creative writing, I’m not really up to theology debates. Please and thank you in advance.)

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“End of the road.” Lady Lacrima said, her face blank and emotionless.

Salo pulled her hand, or rather her wrist, to her chest. “How the hell did he find you?”

Lady Lacrima shrugged. “You must have gotten sloppy.”

“Or you gave him clues! I should have killed you weeks ago!”

“You should have,” Lady Lacrima agreed. “You should have let me die with compassion in my heart. But you didn’t. You created a monster. Two of them.”

Salo spat at her. “You’re a product of Hawkmoth! I only avenged my Eddy!”

“After all this, you’re still justifying your heinous actions. You’re so lost in your depravity, that you can’t even see how low you’ve sunk.”

“So what now?” She sneered. “Now that the roles are reversed, what are you going to do?”

Lady Lacrima reach out and caressed the woman’s face, leaving a smear of blood on her cheek. “The roles are far from reversed, Salo.” She stated, holding out her arms. A buster sword, one bigger than any human could wield, materialized in her hands. “I’m more powerful than you could ever hope to be. And you…there’s no punishment on Earth that befits you.”

“Will you kill me then?”

“That depends…do you believe in God?”

Salo scoffed. “What are you, my Nonna? Go ahead, kill me. Let your God punish me.”

Lady Lacrima adjusted the sword in her hand. “He’ll get his turn.”

Salo’s lip trembled as she attempted to scoot away.

“It’s funny. Without those glasses, you look almost human. And all this time, I thought you were a soulless machine. But if you have a soul…you can burn in hell.” And she slammed the blade down, down through flesh and bone and into the cement, separating her legs from her torso.

The woman screamed in agony, clawing at the ground to escape.

Claws ripped into her stomach, pulling her intestines out and spilling them on the floor.

“What do you think Salo? Should we leave you like this?”

Salo didn’t answer, only squealed and cried out as she writhed on the floor like a worm. Her vision was blurred, but she could see the lights above her head.

Then there was a silhouette, holding out long claws. Claws that pulsed and churned with dark energy. They came closer and closer to her face.

It burned. Hotter than any fire she’d felt before. She heard her skin sizzling and cracking.

Then there was nothing.

No sound, no light, nor breath in her lungs. No emotion fleeting through her head.

And yet—

She was awake. More awake than she’d ever been before. It was like she had been dreaming all this time, and she was finally aware of all that was happening around her.

“Where am I?” She asked, noting the white space around her. Not the billowing clouds she’d seen in Sunday school illustrations as a child. Just a vast infinite of nothingness.

“It has many names, ones in each dialect. We like to call it Hades, or Sheol. Though to you, it would be Death.”

“I’m in...I’m in death?”

“Correct. For death is not a natural state, it is only a temporary condition of the fall.”

“The fall?”

The voice hummed, patiently answering her question. “The fall of mankind. In the Garden of Eden. You know the story, Bianca.”

“I—I do.” She admitted. “I just didn’t think—“

“That it was real?”

“Yeah…”

“What did you think would happen when it was all over?”

She shrugged. “That’s just it. That it would be over. There was nothing else.”

“You are a product of your time. Your eyes were closed to the truth. You had plenty of chances to open them, but they remained firmly shut.”

Bianca raised her hands, finally looking at what had become of her body. No scars, no wrinkles, no calluses, just sooth skin, like a newborn baby.

“Who are you? Can I see you?” She finally asked.

“We’ve never talked, but I’m a good friend of yours. I’ve been with you a long time.”

“Are you my guardian angel?”

The voice laughed. “No. I’m not an angel at all. I’m an antagonist to the angels.”

“A demon?”

“No no, but you’re getting warmer,” it sang, “I will show myself soon, but my name is Death.”

Bianca blinked. “Wait, I thought I was…in Death. I’m in you?”

“I am the state, place, and Lord of Death. I am here, walking with you, all around you, and I am you. But it is beyond mortal understanding.”

Bianca just took a shaky breath, resolved that this was bigger than her, for once.

“You are receiving a wonderful gift, Bianca. A look at the future. Those who perish permanently are not provided with this opportunity.”

“…have I not perished permanently then?”

“Mostly likely not. In the world of free will, there is still a chance that you, and several others will return to Earth for a few more pitiful years.”

“Because…of Ladybug and Chat Noir? Their reset button?”

“That is correct. But until then, you are separated from your body. And I will show you what happens in the end.”

Bianca swallowed as wispy white rolled away. The sky was rolled back like a scroll, displaying the mighty heavens in all their glory. The ground quaked and cracked, falling away to show a growing hoard of lethargic souls, shuffling on with no destination. Bianca stood above on a pillar, just observing them.

“These are the others in Death, they are just like you. But they won’t be returning to Earth. Their lives are over, and ahead of them is judgement.”

“And then?”

“Two options. Up…”

Within the vastness of the sky, a city floated. Walls made of jasper, gates of pearl, and twelve foundations stacked on top of each other, each made of a solid precious metal. There were no lights, as darkness couldn’t penetrate the walls. It was blindingly bright and hurt to look at.

“Or down.”

The pillar grew, twisting to peer over the edge of the world. Below, she saw a pit of fire and smoke, covered with an ancient seal. Inside the pit sat a beast with ten horns and seven heads, with crowns on each head. It looked up to her, licking her lips in patience.

“What is that?”

“The beast which devours all and demands worship. One day, when the seal is broken, the beast will go to earth. He will be exalted as a king above all, and everyone will love and adore him. He is a deceiver.”

“People will worship that?” She asked, incredulous. “Out of fear?”

“Out of blindness. The beast will not appear on Earth like this. May he appear as a man, or as a temptation? That is not for you to know.”

The Beast paced in the pit, its fourteen eyes never leaving her.

“Once it’s reign begins, it cannot be stopped. A prophesy will come to pass, and the wrath of God will pour out on the Earth. After a thousand years of peace, this Beast, the Devil himself, and I will be cast into the Lake of Fire. Those in my arms will be judged, and if their names are not found in the Book of Life, they too will be cast down.”

The pillar grew again, the ground tilting and shifting to move the pit out of the way. And beneath that was a horrible chasm, stretched out for miles and miles, though she could still see the divide clearly. On the other side, a lake, vast and sprawling, but instead of water, it churned with fire. Flames rolling and burning, on and on, hot, and unbearably agonizing.

“And then what?” She breathed. “We burn up, and then are no more?”

“No.” Said Death. “There is no end to the burning. It will go on, forever and ever. You will beg for relief, but you’ll never get it. Every second, you will want to die, but this is the second death. It lasts forever.”

“But that’s thousands of years from now!” She cried, trying to dissuade her panic. “What about now? Do I wander like the rest of them?” She gestured down to the wandering souls below her.

Death smiled. “I suppose you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

The pillar crumbled, pulling her down to the crowd, though no one seemed to pay any mind. Though as her feet touched to cool ground, things started to slip from her mind.

She bumped into a soul. A man who she recognized. “Harken! Oh it’s nice to see someone I know! We have to stick together, the Miraculous Cure is going to take us back soon.”

But Harken didn’t respond, only pushed passed her and continued listlessly onward.

“Death? Why didn’t he recognize me? He died only a minute before me!”

But Death did not respond, so she was on her own.

So she wandered among the spirits. Not really knowing where she was going, or what would happen. Was this it? Milling about for hours until her return to Earth?

That didn’t seem so terrible.

She wasn’t calm, but not panicked either. Nor scared nor bored, just…there. Like a blank slate of her emotions. Even the last few moments of her life on Earth began to slip her mind. She passed faces she swore she knew, names that where common to her.

But none of that seemed important now. Nothing did.

Then with a step, she was in front of a podium, one so tall it loomed over her. Standing at it, was a living creature with the face of a human, with seven wings and seven eyes. It wore pure white linen and a gold sash. On the podium rested a huge book, thicker than she was tall, and four times as wide.

“Name?”

She blinked, the clarity returning to her mind. “Uh it’s Bianca. Bianca Furtoli.”

The being flipped through the pages. Then opened another book, and another. A scroll unrolled from the surface and came cascading down to her, unraveling next to her and continuing off into the distance.

“Your name is not written in the Book of Life.” The creature said simply.

“And?”

“And so The Way is closed to you, for you are unrepentant, and your eyes are closed. Your lips only hold blasphemy, and your throat is like an open grave.”

“Are you Death?” She asked.

“No,” it said, “But it will be coming for you soon. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“Funny, I thought Angels were supposed to be beautiful.”

“What would there be to fear in beauty?”

“Why do you think people fear me?” She asked, hand on her hip.

“Humans fear you, Bianca, because your reputation proceeds you. You speak with a silver tongue, convincing crowds, manipulating multitudes, and preying on vulnerabilities, like a lion stalks his prey.”

“You’re all so poetic up here.”

“And you don’t fear what’s to become of you?”

“I was killed by an akuma. Once Ladybug does her little magic spell, I’ll pop right back on Earth. It’ll only be a few minutes now. Death told me so.”

“Death must be fond of you. It rarely talks to mortals. It does not discriminate. But take heed child, it is not a friend, for it works for the Lord, but it should not exist.”

Bianca frowned. “It gave me more answers than you’re giving me.”

“What makes you think you’re worthy of answers?”

“Because my Nonna said I was made in the image of God. That’s why.”

“A good answer.” The angel mused.

“Then tell me how I get my name written in the Book.”

“Ask your Nonna.”

She frowned. “I prayed that silly little prayer as a girl. I did exactly what I had to do.”

“You were a child, and had the faith of a child. The repentance of a child. But you have grown, and you haven’t lived up to your vow. You prayed to accept the sacrifice that Jesus the Messiah made for you, and yet you trampled upon all he asked of you to do.”

“What did he ask me?”

“To follow him, and be like him.”

“Well, no one’s perfect.”

“He’s not asking for perfection. He’s asking for you to be forgiving, kind, patient, loving, gentle. To have self-control. To be a light to others in the fallen world.” The book slammed shut. “Not to torture children.”

“Says a lot coming from a god that allows wars to be waged. Cancer to run rampant. Hunger and disease to plague half the world. If he’s so powerful, how has he allowed all this to happen, huh? How come he didn’t stop me sooner, if I’m so bad, huh?”

The angel shook his head, “O Childish Blasphemer, who are you to know the infinite ways of God? How are you, a mere infant in the eyes of the world, supposed to understand these concepts beyond your vapid existence? For now, these horrors persist, but one day, they will cease forever. But the likes of you are unlikely to ever believe that. In the last days, you will be gnashing your teeth, and cursing God, even when he gives you plenty of opportunities to repent.”

“What will happen to me now then? Will you continue to berate me until I go back to Earth? Doesn’t seem very loving to me.”

“I have nothing more to say to you, Bianca. Death will fetch you now.”

The Angel moved one of its wings, and from behind it came a pale horse with a rider. The horse was sickly, with a tail made of serpents, and with a mouth of a lion that spewed smoke and fire.

The rider wore fiery red armor, with accents of yellow sulfur.  He had a sickle in one hand, and a whip in the other.

The horse whinnied, thunder roaring from its jaws, instilling Bianca with fear.

“Can I run?” She asked the Angel.

“You can try.”

And so she did. Though there was no where to run in this vast expanse where Death could not find her.

Bianca was halted by the whip cracking around her throat, though the rider never stopped his gallop, and dragged her away. She flailed around, choking as the sky turned black as sack cloth and the moon turned red as blood. She cried as the flesh ripped from her body and blood streaked behind her, carving her path. The many eyes of the wandering souls around her watched as she was stripped naked in all her shame. She was swallowed by the darkness, not even the light of fire illuminating the writhing floor beneath her.

The smell of rot and decay was strong, as vomit crawled up her throat and out. Maggots crawled over her, making a home in her wounds, her ears, her mouth, her eyes. Anywhere they could crawl, they did. Every bite, every pinch, she felt. There was no blurring from one to the other, she felt it all. And all she could do was scream.

She was left to rot, tormented for hours, perhaps days. Flames burst up from below, doing nothing to the worms, but roasting her alive. Burning, agonizing, blistering pain. She rolled around, trying to get relief, but there was just none to be had.

The fire was intense, and she laid there, cooking like a piece of meat on a grill. It was so hot she couldn’t move. So hot she couldn’t think. She gnashed her teeth and screamed and cried on and on.

“Death!” She begged. “Please! Please show me mercy!”

But Death did not answer, and did not show her mercy.

“Water! Please…just a little water…”

Finally, Death appeared on the horse, trampling over her. “Water? You murderer, you rapist, you liar, you thief! Water is what you want?”

“Please! Please I can’t do this!”

“Where were you when they begged for water? When they begged for peace? Where were you when they begged for time and patience? You had no mercy in life, so why should you receive it in death?”

“Please God! God make it stop!”  

—

One moment, she was shrieking in agony, the next, her consciousness melted and she laid on cold metal. Her breath bounced off the surface in front of her. She reached her hand out, touching the sides of the metal box she rested in. A coffin?

Did that mean she was going to suffocate and die again?

She was going to—

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

The tears streaked across her cheeks as the memories of that torture returned to her. She had been eaten alive by maggots, and burned. Burned. Burned. It did happen. Indisputably. The wounds were gone, and she was wearing the leather clothes she had been wearing in the catacombs, when she was killed.

Miraculous Cure must have brought her back.

But how long did she have?

She cried out in horror.

A light shone down by her feet, before the surface she was laying on rolled out, and she found herself in a room.

“Bianca Furtoli?” A police officer asked.

She just stared at him for a moment before weeping. “Please! Please help me! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to go back there!”

He turned on the radio on his lapel. “Havoc here, I’ve got Furtoli. She’s just like the others.”

Bianca reached out and grabbed his arm. “I am back now, aren’t I? This is Earth? Paris?”

He pried her hands off. “Ms. Furtoli, I’m going to need you to calm down. Yes, you were dead, and now you’re alive again. I’m sure this must be hard for you—“

“Where’s Marinette? Where’s Adrien? Please, I need to see them!”

“You don’t get to know that information.” He said sternly.

“I need to ask forgiveness! Please, I beg you!”

“Sit down.” He demanded.

“What’s going to happen to me?! Where am I?!”

“Likely, you’ll be going to prison. If not a mental hospital.”

“Will there be a priest there? I must talk to a priest! Please! I went to hell! I was burning in hell!”

“You know what?” He asked shortly. “I think you completely deserve that after what you did to those kids.”

Bianca fell to her knees and sobbed, not even trying to hide her shame or guilt. She just wept and wept.

She wept when the handcuffs went on her wrists. She wept when she was read her rights, and as she was loaded into the car. She cried herself to sleep that night, and every night for the next few weeks. She spoke to none of Edward Savauge’s men. She had no contact with family.

Fear is a terrible state to live in. And for Bianca Furtoli, it meant every day, every hour, she was preparing to return to that awful fire. She would not rest until she found a way to repent.

And for a woman who believed she was a god, that was a long way off.

—

Marinette awoke to a cool hand on her forehead. She shivered under her blankets, but her face felt so warm.

“Hi there, Ladybug.” Said John, setting a cup of water on her table. “You’ve got a little bit of a fever. That’s expected, and it’s not too high.”

“Cold…” She breathed in her half awakened state.

“Of course. I’ll get you a blanket in a second. How is everything else feeling? How’s your pain?”

“I can handle it. It’s mild.”

“Okay, I’m glad to hear that.” He stepped out of the room briefly, only to return with a soft blanket. “Here we go, nice and warm.” He unfurled it, and brought it up to her chin. It was fresh from the dryer, and nice and toasty. “Better?”

“Much.”

“I’ve got some water here for you. Try to drink a little more before going back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back to check on you periodically.”

“John?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Anything for my hero.”

[theafictionados]

A The 100 Character For Every Twenty One Pilots Song

Hello there!

Are you a fan of The 100? How about twenty one pilots? I have good news: you don’t need to be either to listen to twenty one pilots songs. But it helps! However, to get the most out of this article, I would advise that you be a fan of the CW show The 100 because this list contains spoilers up to Season 4 Episode 8! (And was written before Episode 9 so if anything crazy happens that contradicts everything I’ve said, NOT MY FAULT)

Now: to begin at the beginning. Let me start by introducing myself in case you are a person who is unfamiliar with my ridiculous life.

My name is Robyn Jeffrey and I’m a co-host with The Afictionados Podcast Network. (website, twitter, soundcloud) We do podcasts about your favorite tv shows including AND TOTALLY LIMITED TO AT THIS POINT, The 100, Riverdale, and LOST (my personal favorite). You can find us by searching “Afictionados” in Soundcloud or iTunes!

Something that I really love about TOP is that you can listen to their songs and there is nary a swear. I’m one of those people who get kind of taken out of things where there’s too much profanity. I also love that when they sing love songs, they hardly ever use gendered pronouns. Not all of them, but most of their love songs could be sung to any gender. And that makes writing this a little easier.

Ever since I became a fan of twenty one pilots, my sister and I have played this game where we choose a The 100 character that is best represented by each song. When I was at Unity Days in January, I shared this fact with a few friends and they wanted more!

I have tried my best to do this with every single TOP song. However, I tried very hard to not overlap or give multiple songs to one character, even though many of these songs could refer to Jasper or Murphy and so on. That’s why I’ll have a section at the bottom of the song with alternate characters that might also work. If you have a suggestion for a character that I don’t have already, let me know and I’ll add it with full credit!

Although Vessel was released first, I will begin with Blurryface, for my sister and I began with Blurryface. I’m aware that they also released a self-titled album in 2009 but I only just realized that you can buy that on iTunes and I’m not familiar with it at all so we’re only doing the last two albums OKAY? Here we go!

Blurryface

Heavydirtysoul – Octavia Blake

“Gangsters don’t cry.”

Originally, this song was Jasper’s song but with the addition of my rule of only one per customer, I felt that a different song described him better (or possibly, he was the only one to fit that song). And thus I came to the conclusion that this was an Octavia Blake song if I ever heard one; especially if you take the last season into consideration.

“There’s an infestation in my mind’s imagination.

I hope that they choke on smoke ‘cause I’m smoking them out the basement.

This is not rap. This is not hip-hip.

It’s just another attempt to make the voices stop.”

“Can you save my heavy, dirty, soul?”

Alternate: Jasper Jordan, Clarke Griffin, John Murphy, etc.

Stressed Out – All

“We would build a rocket ship and then we’d fly it far away.”

I felt that this song could refer to so many characters that I decided to make it a song for everyone. I think you could find a piece of whoever you wanted in this song.

“Wish we could turn back time to the good old days,

When our momma sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out.”

Ride – Jasper Jordan

“I’m falling so I’m taking my time on my ride.”

Jasper is found in so many of these songs that it was hard to pick one for him. I found that this was a song that fit him best especially taking Season 4 into account. He knows that he won’t make it and so he’s just having fun with the time that he still has.

“Yeah, I think about the end just way too much

But it’s fun to fantasize.”

“I’ve been thinking too much. Help me.”

 Fairly Local – Roan

“I’m fairly local. I’ve been around. I’ve seen the streets you’re walking down.”

This song was originally Lincoln but since I found a better fit for him, I switched it to Roan and I think I like it even better! This song is reminiscent of when new people show up, like Skaikru, and try and take over.

“Yo, you, bulletproof in black like a funeral.

The world around us is burning but we’re so cold.

It’s the few, the proud, and the emotional.”

“I’m not evil to the core.

What I shouldn’t do I will fight.

I know I’m emotional.

What I wanna save I will try.”

Alternate: Lincoln, Indra, any grounder pick one

 Tear in my Heart – Finn Collins

“She’s the tear in my heart, I’m on fire.”

If this isn’t the most Finn Collins song you’ve ever heard, you’re wrong. This is one of the first songs that we assigned to a character. This is so Finn it’s incredible. Think season 2 Finn looking for Clarke. Like that Finn. It’s ridiculous. My favorite part of the song is that it literally says “I’m on fire” and isn’t that just brutal? It literally talks about her stabbing him HAHA

“Sometimes you’ve gotta bleed to know,

That you’re alive and have a soul.

But it takes someone to come around to show you how.”

“She’s a butcher with a smile, cut me farther than I’ve ever been.”

 Lane Boy – Nathan Miller

“They say ‘stay in your lane, boy’… but we go where we want to.”

This was kind of a hard one to choose. But I’m happy with the conclusion that I came to and I think it actually fits really well. This is one of my favorite songs on Blurryface. Also I <3 Miller. That is all.

“Who would live and die for on that list?

But the problem is,

There’s another list that exists and no one really wants to think about this.”

“If you get in between someone I love and me,

You’re gonna feel the heat of my cavalry.

All these songs I’m hearing are so heartless.

Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless.”

 The Judge – Thelonius Jaha

“You’re the judge, oh no, set me free.”

The way I’m choosing to look at this one is that Jaha is calling ALIE the judge. He wants ALIE to take him into the City of Light and away from all of the pain of his life. It also shows Jaha’s soft side when he’s always making sacrifices for others. I think.

“When the leader of the bad guys sang,

Something soft and soaked in pain,

I heard the echo from his secret hideaway.”

“I know my soul’s freezing.

Hell’s hot for good reason so please take me.”

 Doubt – Wells Jaha

“Don’t forget about me.”

Okay check it out. Not only is this super literal because Jaha actually forgot Wells in Season 3, but it’s also totally relevant to the 4 episodes he was in regarding Clarke and such.

“Even when I doubt you,

I’m no good without you.”

“Fear might be the death of me,

Fear leads to anxiety.

Don’t know what’s inside of me.”

Alternate: Monty Green

 Polarize – Bellamy Blake

“My friends and I, we’ve got a lot of problems.”

This was the one of the first songs that we assigned a character to and yeah maybe it started only with “better brother, better son” but if you look at the whole song it actually works quite well.

“It’s deciding where to die and deciding where to fight.

Deny, deny, denial.”

“I wanted to be a better brother, better son.

Wanted to be a better adversary to the evil I have done.

I have none to show to the one I love.”

 We Don’t Believe What’s On TV – Lexa

“We have all learned to kill our dreams.”

This was a really hard one to choose. I felt that many of the people that I could possibly give it to, already had a song. And although it could fit Lexa and Clarke’s relationship better, I’m pleased with my choice.

“I used to say, ‘I wanna die before I’m old’,

But because of you I might think twice.”

“I need to know that when I fail, you’ll still be here.”

Alternate: Finn Collins, John Murphy, Marcus Kane, who’s in love?

 Message Man – Clarke Griffin

“You don’t know what I’ve done. I’m wanted and on the run.”

This song was a Murphy song for such a long time until I realized, after the premiere of Season 3, that this works even better for Clarke than it does for Murphy. Clarke’s a major badass.

“A loser hides behind a mask of my disguise.

And who I am today is worse than other times.”

“You don’t know my brain the way you know my name.

And you don’t know my heart the way you know my face.”

Alternate: John Murphy

 Hometown – Maya Vie

“Take me home and show me the sun.”

Listen up. I had the hardest time figuring this one out but then my mother suggested Maya / Mount Weather in general and it’s absolutely perfect. I couldn’t think of anything else ever again. Now this song will haunt your dreams as a Mount Weather song.

“Where we’re from, there’s no sun.

Our hometown’s in the dark.”

“We don’t know, we don’t know,

How to put back the power in our soul.

We don’t know, we don’t know,

Where to find what once was in our bones.”

Alternate: Bryan, Charles Pike, peeps from farm station, Ilian

 Not Today – Charles Pike

“Heard your voice. There’s no choice.”

This was another difficult one. I want to dedicate this choice to my girls Sarah and Claire (aka the #1 Pike apologists).

“You are out of my mind, you aren’t seeing my side.

You spend all this time trying to get to me.”

“Don’t you test me though, just because I play the piano,

Doesn’t mean I am not willing to take you down. I’m sorry.”

 Goner – Lincoln

“I’m a goner. Somebody catch my breath.”

This one hurts. But it’s just so perfect. And don’t just look at the lyrics to this one. It’s the real musical genius of the finale of Blurryface that encapsulates Lincoln so perfectly. The soft, quiet beginning, into the loud, angry ending. It all works.

“Though I’m weak and beaten down,

I’ll slip away into the sound.

The ghost of you is close to me.

I’m inside out. You’re underneath.”

 Vessel

Ode to Sleep – Ilian

“I’m not free, I asked forgiveness three times.”

Some songs and this album were much harder to figure out than others. I knew that I wanted an Ilian song and this one fit the best out of what was left. It works with the fact that he blew up Arkadia and that he feels terrible about what he did in the City of Light.

“Please tell them you have no plans for me.

I will set my soul on fire, what have I become?”

“I swear I heard demons yelling,

Those crazy words they were spelling.

They told me I was gone.”

 Holding Onto You – Marcus Kane

“You should take my life, you should take my soul.”

This song was the Lincoln and Octavia song for a really long time. The second verse is one of my favorite verses of all of TOP’s discography. I think it’s just beautiful. But it works very well with Kane and Abby as well.

“Fight it.

Take the pain, ignite it.

Tie a noose around your mind,

Loose enough to breathe fine and tie it,

To a tree, tell it ‘you belong to me.

This ain’t a noose, this is a leash.

And I have news for you.

You must obey me.’”

Alternate: Lincoln

 Migraine – Raven Reyes

“Am I the only one I know, waging my wars behind my face and above my throat?”

How perfect is it that Raven had migraines this season and they have a song called Migraine? It’s perfect. I’m really pleased with this pairing. I think that Migraine is one of their best songs. It’s sometimes hard to catch all of the beautiful lyrics so I recommend looking them up because they work so well.

“…It is a door that holds back contents,

That make Pandora’s box contents look non-violent.

Behind my eyelids are islands of violence.

My mind’s ship-wrecked.

This is the only land my mind could find.”

“And I will say that we should take a day to break away

From all the pain our brain has made.

The game is not played alone.”

 House of Gold – Monty Green

“We’ll make pretend that you and me lived ever after happily.”

Sure. Maybe this song was given to Monty because he’s the only one that really got to talk with his Mom other than Clarke. But if you think about it, you could maybe think of it as CoL Hannah talking to Monty and trying to persuade him into joining her. And his father is even mentioned in the song. It works!

“She asked me, ‘Son, when I grow old,

Will you buy me a house of gold?

And when your father turns to stone,

Will you take care of me?’”

“And since we know that dreams are dead,

And life turns plans up on their head.

I will plan to be a bum.

So I just might become someone.”

 Car Radio – Luna

“Peace will win and fear will lose.”

This song is incredible. It has some of the cleverest lyrics I have ever heard. I really think it could fit with just about any character that is truly haunted by something that they’ve done. It really fits with Luna because of what happened on her little island and how she promotes peace over violence.

“Sometimes quiet is violent.

My pride is no longer inside.

It’s on my sleeve. My skin will scream.

Reminding me of who I killed.”

“I find over the course of our human existence,

One thing consists of consistence

And it’s that we’re all battling fear.

Oh dear, I don’t know if we know why we’re here.”

Alternate: Raven Reyes, Monty Green, Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake

 Semi-Automatic – John Murphy

“I’m semi-automatic. My prayer’s schizophrenic. But I’ll live on.”

This song has been the Murphy song for years. The real Murphy song. It speaks for itself.

“I’m never what I like,

I’m double-sided, and I just can’t hide,

I kinda like it when I make you cry,

‘Cause I’m twisted up, I’m twisted up inside.”

“The horrors of the night melt away,

Under the warm glow of survival of the day,

Then we move on.”

 Screen – Emori

“We’re broken people.”

We found that this song worked really well with Emori. Sometimes she’s talking about herself, then herself and Murphy, and maybe even sometimes herself and Otan. It’s however you like to interpret it that makes it so fun.

“I do not know why I would go

In front of you and hide my soul

‘Cause you’re the only one who knows it.”

“While you’re doing fine, there’s some people and I

Who have a really tough time getting through this life

So excuse up while we sing to the sky.”

 The Run & Go – Abby Griffin

“Cerebral thunder in one way conversations.”

I remember the day that I realized that this could be an Abby song. I remembered the person that she shot at the end of Season 3 and then listening to the chorus, I found that it fit all of this radio stuff that Abby and Kane are dealing with lately.

“I have killed a man and all I know

Is I am on the Run and Go.”

“Don’t wanna call you in the night time.

Don’t wanna give you all my pieces.

Don’t wanna hand you all my trouble.

Don’t wanna give you all my demons.

You’ll have to watch me struggle

From several rooms away.

But tonight, I’ll need you to stay.”

 Fake You Out – Harper McIntyre

“Silence gives you space.”

I made this a Harper song as soon as I saw God Complex and the “If you come back” debacle. Put DNR into this context and it works nicely. She’s feeling farther away from Monty than usual.

“I’ll never be, be what you see inside.

You say I’m not alone, but I am petrified.

You say that you are close, is close the closest star?

You just feel twice as far.”

“They feel they have no control over their prisoner’s cell.

And if you’re one of them then you’re one of me.

And you would do almost anything just to feel free.”

 Guns for Hands – Eric Jackson

“You all have guns, but you never put the safety on.”

I had this song for Indra originally. But after hearing Sachin’s interview with Meta Station, I definitely felt that Jackson would be the one most hoping that everyone would stop shooting each other. He just wants everyone to be healthy. Is that too much to ask???

“I’m trying, I’m trying to sleep.

But I can’t, but I can’t when you all have

Guns for hands.”

“But there’s hope out the window.

So that’s where we’ll go.

Let’s go outside and all join hands

But until then, you’ll never understand.”

 Trees – Indra & Gaia

“I know where you stand, silent in the trees.”

This song doesn’t have a whole lot of words. It’s a slow long with the same lyrics over and over again. And we had a really hard time deciphering who this would go to but in the end we assigned it to 2 characters. The relationship between Indra and Gaia. Indra wanting her to be a warrior and Gaia choosing to stay peaceful.

“I want to know you.

I want to see.

I want to say hello.”

“Why won’t you speak

Where I happen to be?

Silent in the trees.

Standing cowardly.”

 Truce – ALIE

“You will die but now your life is free.”

This is another one of those songs that doesn’t have a whole lot of lyrics. But I took it to mean ALIE’s downfall. She’s about to go to sleep after Clarke pulled the lever and is now just reflecting?

“Now the night is coming to an end,

The sun will rise and we will try again.”

“I will fear the night again,

I hope I’m not my only friend.”

 BONUS

Heathens – Echo

“All my friends are heathens, take it slow.”

I was thinking that I’d really love to have Heathens on this list and I looked at the other list of characters that I hadn’t used and thought that Echo would be a good one. Then I listened to the song again with an Echo lens and realised that it was perfect. Think Mount Weather Grounder Gang.

“Welcome to the room of people who have rooms of people

That they love one day, locked away.

Just because we check the guns at the door,

Doesn’t mean our brains will change from hand grenades.”

“You’ll never know the psychopath sitting next to you.

You’ll never know the murderer sitting next to you.

You’ll think ‘how’d I get here, sitting next to you?’”

THANKS FOR READING!

Tell me your thoughts on Twitter! @RobynEJeffrey

[handsingsweapon]

okay, so I am not at all tired of and in fact adore your Victuuri, but 17 seems so very Georgi.

i love this prompt! i ended up taking it in a different direction than the prompt itself but i really like what came to mind right away. (under the cut again in case of any anti-halloween sensibilities). 

also idk how to say this without being blunt so, in this fic, team russia (georgi, mila, yurio) have inherited a mystery manor from yakov. be advised accordingly.

The character makes a new friend who claims to be an actual witch. They end up proving it to them with an impressive display of magic (if the preferred character is actually a witch, feel free to change the POV)

Georgi puts the van into park as Mila leans forward in her seat and whistles. Netherseal Manor practically looms over the car. It’s an eight-bedroom estate on several acres outside of Edinburgh, where the sweeping Scottish plains roll on unhindered for what feels like miles. Tonight it’s a little overcast and crisp, leaving a muted night sky without stars.  “I get the room in the turret,” Yuri insists from the back seat, and when Georgi and Mila share a Look via the rear view mirror, he rubs his hands together and blows on them pointedly, as though either Georgi or Mila has forgotten Yuri’s elemental affinity. 

“Whatever,” Mila says pointedly, grabbing her lighter off of the dash before hopping out of the car. “Bet you it’s a closet and the window’s just decorative.”

They all know it’s not a closet, either: this was Yakov Feltsman’s house, until he passed, it’s been in the family, so to speak, for generations, handed down from coven to coven with only one specification, typically, in the contract, which Georgi knows is a contract that is both magically and legally binding: make no modifications to the pool, the gardens, or the manor itself, and keep the household collection together.

When Yakov designated Georgi as his heir he’d waved a hand over these details. “Think of it as living in someone else’s house,” he’d insisted. “You’ll figure it out.”

Together they unload the van. Mila and Georgi carry easily twice as much as Yuri can. Mila wins a best two-out-of-three Rock, Paper, Scissors game for the biggest bedroom, but in the morning she tells Georgi she doesn’t want it. “It’s drafty,” she complains, while they take sheets down off of the furniture in the library. The place has been packed up like this for a month; Yuri’s been going around throwing windows open and encouraging air in; Mila’s lit fires to ward off the chill, is already burning little pockets of sage. Georgi prefers earth magic, which is protective and solid if unremarkable.

They’re missing a water witch, and sometimes what they really need is a white one, but according to Yakov nobody’s seen either around these parts for decades. 

Mila uncovers a large portrait, hanging on the wall. It’s a painting of a man with silver hair and bright, crystal-blue eyes. He’s smiling, rare for this kind of old portraiture. Mila whistles again. “Hell-o, handsome,” she coos, and puts her hand to the frame, brow furrowed. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” says Mila, who isn’t about to admit that she thinks she just got winked at by a painting. “What do you want Yura to pick up when he runs into town tomorrow?”

“Lavender,” Georgi says off-hand, and then adds: “Yarrow.”

He tries and fails to pretend like he’s not thinking about Anya again. Mila mutters something impolite and dusts off a shelf. That night, Georgi moves into the big bedroom. He thinks drafty was Mila’s way of describing the way he feels a little bit like he’s being watched: it’s late and he’s writing another letter to Anya in a notebook full of notes he’s never going to send: I just don’t understand how you fell out of love with me so quickly, Georgi writes. We were happy, weren’t we?

The being-watched feeling never quite goes away, so Georgi sighs and lights a candle, finds a piece of chalk. In his Grimoire, there’s a spell meant to calm a restless mind, and so he works through it, holding up the jasper stone he wears on a pendant around his neck as a focus while he grinds anise seeds and murmurs a blessing on this new endeavor.

After what happened with Anya, everyone knows Georgi’s luck could use a change.

In the morning, the chalk circle is still there, but his notebook has been flipped to a new page, and on it, in a fresh hand, is the following writing:

I see Mr. Feltsman has neglected to inform Netherseal’s new charges of all of the manner of our arrangement. Please vacate my room at first opportunity. The room with the most Northerly view is located on the second floor and looks out over a grove; I daresay you’ll find it to your taste.

Yours,

VN

P.S. Would you mind terribly sweeping up the chalk? It’s rather inconvenient.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Yuri snarls after he’s read the letter. It’s decidedly at odds with the tablespoon sized lump of jam he’s just plunged into his tea. “He didn’t tell us the place was haunted.” At this, one of the kitchen cabinets opens and shuts, practically in offense, which has Mila nervously playing with her lighter and makes Yuri’s scowl deepen further. “You don’t scare me, you bastard!”

A bar of soap rises ominously from the sink and Georgi can’t help it: he’s laughing, now. It’s been a while since he laughed; not since Anya called to tell him they were over and then was seen at University a week later with a brand new beau. Georgi still has his mother’s ring in his messenger bag; he was ready to propose, just waiting for the right moment. Mila and Yuri are furious about the whole thing, of course. They feed off of each other sometimes, and not always in a good way.

Anyway, the laugh: it feels good and a little bit foreign. “I think our new friend is trying to tell you to watch your mouth,” he murmurs.

“Or what,” grumbles Yuri. “He’s a ghost. I bet there are spells …” This time, every cabinet slams, one at a time, open-shut, open-shut, open-shut. 

“Bit dramatic,” Mila murmurs thoughtfully. “I like you already,” she informs the air, and this time nothing happens: whatever presence was there is gone.

“I’m getting some air,” says Yuri Plisetsky, which is exactly the kind of thing that comes out of his mouth at least three times a day. He leaves his coat on the hooks by the door. That happens a lot, too.

“I’ll take him into town,” Mila murmurs, once they’re alone. “You gonna be okay here by yourself?”

“You know what,” Georgi replies, fingering the piece of jasper that hangs around his neck, “I think I will.”

In the afternoon he takes the notebook back into the bedroom, cleans it up as promised. Then he walks over into an adjacent sitting area, sits down at a desk, and writes:

Who are you?

For a moment, there’s nothing, and Georgi thinks he’s had all the excitement he’s going to have for the day. Then the pages flutter, almost as though trailed by a thoughtful hand. Inside the desk, he thinks he hears something click. “You really want me going through your personal effects?”

I already read your journal last night for entertainment, confesses a fresh line of ink on the page. In my defense, the bed was taken.

… 

It seems like a reasonable exchange.

Georgi’s not sure how to feel about this. For a moment something painful constricts in his chest and he takes a moment to center himself on his breath, to plant both of his feet very firmly on the ground. There’s no reason to think that he can feel the vibrations of the earth beneath his feet, but it always focuses him, and after a moment he sighs, heavily, before he starts to open drawers. “Anya,” he tells the thin air, by way of explanation, “is my ex-girlfriend.”

I gathered as much.

Georgi does not want to admit that he still has her photo in his wallet, but he still has her photo in his wallet. He takes it out and leaves it on the desk, not sure why he’s trying to convince a ghost that she was pretty, that she was worth it, that he wishes she’d change her mind. “I just thought we’d be together for the rest of our lives,” he admits quietly. “She thought otherwise.”

How old are you?

That, Georgi thinks, is a strange question to ask. “Twenty-eight.” When nothing else appears, he looks around, brow furrowed. “ … Why?”

… You will find out soon enough. Compartment’s in the back.

Sure enough, as Georgi reaches, a package of documents fall into his waiting hands, bulkier than he expects. He unravels a piece of red string tied around the contents and opens the envelope. What he finds first is a navy blue book, leatherbound, beautifully tooled on the front. It reminds Georgi of his Grimoire, but it’s inexplicably lovelier, and when he receives no words of protest on the page, he opens it, looks at the first page. There’s a whole list of names, and plenty of room for more. 

The last name, the last witch who possessed this book was a man named Victor Nikiforov.

“Well, Victor,” he says, trying to be polite. “I’m Georgi.”

When Mila and Yuri return from town they’re surprisingly well equipped. “Found the most darling store in Old Town,” Mila explains, as she sets down a bag that smells like sweet, fresh herbs, and offers a second one to Georgi so that he can take a look. Herbal teas, incense, and –

“Why is Yura holding a kitten?”

“Because the clerk at the store was an idiot,” the teenager grumbles.

“I thought he was plenty nice,” Mila observes. “Just shy.”

“Dog people,” Yuri mutters, to the tiny creature who now lives in his hoodie. The kitten is all black, with dazzling green eyes. It’s so stereotypical Georgi almost wants to laugh, and when the little beast gives out the most pathetic mew he’s ever heard, he nearly does.

“What’d you find out about … you know?”

“Well,” Georgi murmurs carefully, because this is a serious topic, “For one thing, Victor isn’t a ghost.”

And this is how they learn to live with Victor Nikiforov, the water witch trapped inside of the manor. There are strange foils between him and Victor: for the past few months, all Georgi wanted was to be engaged, to be planning his own wedding.

Victor is in this situation precisely because he refused to get married.

“I don’t get it,” says Yuri.

“He got into an argument with his Grandmother, evidently,” Georgi murmurs. They’ve gotten refrigerator magnets now; word poetry and letters to give Victor a fast outlet. “She wanted to see him wed before he turned thirty, and, well.”

“Well, what?”

The letters on the fridge rearrange themselves promptly. CANNOT appears in primary kinder-colors, red, yellow, blue. 

Georgi hesitates, and then sighs. Even if he is breaking a confidence, he’s never had secrets with this little coven. It’s not in his nature. “It was impossible. Then. Marrying someone he really loved.”

“Oh,” says Mila. “I get it.”

“I don’t,” retorts Yuri.

“Yura,” Mila says sweetly, like she’s explaining something to a very small child, “he’s gay.”

“What, so, he’s cursed because he’s gay?”

“Gay marriage was illegal. He wouldn’t have wanted to make vows he couldn’t keep …” Trust Mila to catch on; Georgi has been her Token Straight at at least three different pride parades while Mila sashayed around with the bisexual flag draped over her shoulders, hunting for handsome girls or pretty boys to kiss. Georgi wouldn’t dare call it easy for her; he knows there’s a certain amount of judgment that goes on. Still: Mila is beautiful and bright, and people come to her like moths to a flame. “Don’t worry, though, ducky,” she says, cheerfully. Ducky is her new nickname for Victor. “Now you can marry whoever you want. We just have to get you unhexed.”

The letters on the refrigerator scramble one more time, so fast that Georgi nearly detects hope. WHITE? they spell, this time, in anything but.

“Baba-yaga,” Yuri grouses, “For something that dark he’d have to have a really powerful white witch. Have you been keeping one in your back pocket this whole time, and not telling us?”

“Quit being so fucking insensitive, Yura,” Mila snaps, with gasoline-temper. Slowly the letters get pushed out of order again. “We’ll figure it out, Victor.” 

There’s no response. Georgi imagines him, invisible, bound to the house, an eternal bachelor. 

It’s heartbreaking, which is why he understands it so well.

Georgi waits until Yuri’s gone to whisper a hypothesis to Mila. Do you know how old Yakov was, when he married Lilia?

She doesn’t, but Georgi’s done the research. “Twenty-nine and nine months,” he says quietly. It’s the start of Autumn. He turns twenty-nine in December, and Anya is never going to marry him.

Victor was thirty when the curse hit. On Yuletide.

Weeks pass. They take to talking to the fourth presence in the house, to leaving a place for him at their circle. Slowly Victor becomes a known quantity, predictable, almost like a friend. There’s a piano in the conservatory that Georgi tinkers away on, and sometimes Victor comes alongside and presses down the nearby keys to play a duet. Yuri insists that he’s teaching their invisible witch about fashion, curse words, and how to dance.

It’s All Hallow’s Eve when a pounding comes at the front door, interrupting the game of cards they’ve all been playing in the library. “I’ll get it,” says Yuri, probably because he doesn’t have patience for the game and he’s been losing all night. Mila shrugs. Fine. 

Georgi listens to the predictable trudge of Yuri’s feet, to the brusque greeting at the door, and then sits up as he hears shouting. Now two pairs of shoes are making their way this direction, and he finds himself face-to-face with a mild-mannered looking young man wearing blue glasses. 

“Katsudon, what the fuck?”

Evidently he and Yuri know each other. The brunette frowns and looks pointedly at all three of them. “Stop. Hexing. People,” he grinds out. “I have seen Anya Vasilieva alone nine times in two months. Nine. Nine times. To break bad luck charms, and truthspeaker spells, and assorted other nastiness, and I’m here to tell you if you don’t stop and –”

“Nine?” Georgi is incredulous, but in the face of the outraged look this strange is sending him, he has to admit to a tiny, petty truth. “I did a small thing once,” he admits. “But I was very drunk. Mila was there.”

“Three times,” says Yuri Plisetsky with a scowl, apparently counting for himself. 

 “Five,” Mila hums, like an angel.

But the young man in the glasses isn’t looking at any of them, anymore. Victor’s portrait is up on the wall, and if Georgi were to look back at it, he might think it looks different, somehow.

Like a changed man.

“Who is that?” Katsudon wants to know, taking a hand out of the pocket of his coat. There are prayer beads twined around his wrist, of the clearest quartz, and already he’s ignoring the rest of them, patting down his pockets as he pulls up a chair and stands on it, looking a painting of Invisible Water Witch, Victor Nikiforov, eye-to-eye. “He’s smiling, but he looks …”

Sad. Georgi knows the word like he knows his own death sentence: he’s the next heir to this house; unless the enchantment over it is lifted, he can expect to join Victor in eternal invisibility, locked to this estate, sooner than any of them would like.

“His name is Victor Nikiforov,” Georgi says, with care. “I’m Georgi Popovich. You know Mila and Yuri?”

“Yuuri,” says the stranger, distantly, without looking back. He carefully touches the brushstroke that makes up Victor’s mouth, and behind him Georgi hears the sound of thirteen cards fluttering to the floor, because evidently real, invisible Victor has dropped his hand entirely. 

“… Yuuri Katsuki.”