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    He Xuan starts coughing so loudly and so violently that for a second Xie Lian loses track of reality, and thinks it was He Xuan who got buried under what feels like half a mountain, and not Xie Lian. It’s only as he tries to get up, alarmed, that the pain shoots through his body and reminds him why that would be a terrible idea. A grunt of pain must escape him, because He Xuan pushes him down again. This time, he leaves his hand on his shoulder, a constant reminder to “stay the fuck down, dianxia, fucking idiot.”

    “You sounded like you were in pain. Are you sure you weren’t hurt in the collapse?”

    “It really is very galling to be fretted upon by a man who is bleeding half of his intestines unto the floor.”

    (or: Xie Lian and He Xuan end up trapped in a cave together, and Xie Lian won't stop saying upsetting things. It's probably the concussion.)

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    25 Aug 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "His Highness may call me anything he wishes."

    Xie Lian doesn't have the imaginative energy to conjure up anything meaningful for this stranger, so he says, "In that case, you might as well be Wu Ming."

    The ghost bows his head further. His shoulders sink slightly, less slumping and more settling into himself. It's like he likes the dehumanizing name.

    He says, "'Wu Ming' is perfect."

    Xie Lian's frown deepens. He tells him, "Pick a different one soon."

    _

    After Xie Lian is tortured in his own temple, he wakes up in the care of a freshly-formed wrath ghost. "Wu Ming" follows him home and, with his carpentry experience, medical knowledge, street smarts, and fighting skills, makes himself indispensable to Xie Lian's family.

    To protect Xie Lian from Bai Wuxiang, Wu Ming swears that he'll do whatever he must to get stronger, all the while becoming one more person that Xie Lian couldn't bear to lose.

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    01 Aug 2026

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    Kim Kitsuragi went to solve a murder in a long-abandoned corner of town. He found much more than he expected: a disaster, and a miracle. A new partner, and a fresh start.

    He has, by most sensible measures, objectively terrible taste in men.

    Harry Du Bois woke up with no memories, helped solve a murder, got shot a little bit, had a sexual epiphany, and fell head-over-heels in love. He thinks he might have been a bad person, before. He's trying to be a good person now.

    He's also exactly Kim's type.

    Language:
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    31 Mar 2026

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    “Kim,” you say, and he blinks at you in the middle of putting out his hand. “There’s something fucked up going on.”

    “You must be from the 41st. I’m Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi—though you seem to know that already.” He seems tense, for some reason—and his hand is still out. “I’m afraid I wasn’t told who you are.”

    “It’s me, Harry! Kim, don’t you remember me? Fuck, there’s something really wrong happening.”

    “If you’re referring to the dead body that has been hanging from a tree for seven days—then yes, I agree. It is pretty wrong.” Kim is looking at you with his mouth slightly pursed. There’s no recognition in his eyes—he looks at you like you’re a stranger.

    “This can’t be happening." Kim clears his throat.

    “You are clearly going through… something. But I would appreciate it if we could focus on the case for the moment.”

    “Oh my god,” you say. “We did it already, Kim, but for some reason I’m the only one who remembers! This is some—some cosmic joke from the universe, I’ll tell you that.”

    “Okay,” Kim says, slowly. “I’m going to give you a moment while I talk to the manager. You’re going to sit down and sort out whatever it is you’re doing. And then we’re going to take down that corpse.”

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    30 Mar 2026

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    Astarion moves his legs just slightly to press against Casmir’s broad shoulder, a teasing point of contact. The tiefling doesn’t shift away.

    But his hands still haven’t moved to tend to Astarion’s wound. “Can I touch you?”

    Astarion stares at them for a few moments, meeting that burning gaze, fanned by thick lashes. People don’t often ask him that—they just do. It didn’t matter whether he wanted them to or not, only that he was a pretty thing they wanted to get their hands on.

    He shakes his head before he can fade away into bad memories, blinking several times. He smirks instead, slipping into flirtation easily, eyes lidded and something like revulsion at himself bubbling in his gut, “As much as you’d like, my dear.”

     

    (Or, Astarion has had his consent revoked for over two centuries. Then he meets Casmir.)

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    17 Feb 2026