Parker wakes up with wings.

Hell has all the best musicians.

Angie needs to know how to waltz. Peggy offers some help.

At the blade—or claw—of an enemy is the only way Liu Qingge has ever imagined he will die, and though it would obviously be preferable for it to happen after thousands of years of immortal mastery, he would settle for thirtyish if it was epic.

There is nothing less epic than being spared by Luo Binghe, except for being spared by Luo Binghe every day for the past two and a half years.

A celebration of all the queer characters you can't bury. Or, if you do bury them, they don't stay down for long.

Gerard has a creepy crush; so does Brian. Birthday fic for pearl_o on LJ.

He has never taken a disciple before this one, that is true, but Yin Chen has long been enlightened as to what such an arrangement entails.

Jin Guangyao thinks that, in another life, he would have been an excellent merchant. He is not so foolish as to commit certain things to written record, but in his mind, there exists a ledger. Considerations behind every action, what he has risked, and what he has gained. People who are beholden to him, people who fear him, people who want what only he can provide. People who want him.

Talking at someone is only fun for so long. That's all being a sect leader is: talking and talking to people bound by courtesy to listen to you. It's so fucking dull. A relief, then, to face one’s equal, and no less an old friend who is inclined to interrupt you whenever you ramble. He likes it. It’s one of Jiang Cheng’s best qualities.

In the years after Guanyin Temple, Nie Huaisang attends to unfinished business.

Chu Wanning's thin face must be cracking in the thaw.