"Don't," he says, thin and strangled — no, not strangled, really. Smothered. The word hardly left his throat at all, and if John hadn't been so close, just about on top of him in an enclosed space, he might never have heard.

(For the Tumblr prompt "things you said while you were driving".)

They were old stones, the stones that buried Leporino, the boundary markers of a rustic edifice or a low wall. They might have tumbled down the ravine under the weight of last winter’s snow, or at an unlucky push.

(Written for cygnes and the prompt: the secret history au where it's a jacobean revenge tragedy.)

This is the chance of a lifetime. Caleb just has to survive it.

Commodus seldom gets his way.

There are prisons, and prisoners.

Jiang Cheng takes a dagger meant for Nie Huaisang. In the rapidly ensuing aftermath, bleeding out in the middle of the Unclean Realm becomes the very least of his concerns.

Punished, as a boy.

Riley Flynn flees Crockett Island, and the priest follows.

Solomon Tozer proves harder to tame than other men, and Hickey faces his own mutiny in miniature.

He might be Hickey's creature, now, but that doesn't mean he's happy about it.