tresa_cho



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  4. Summary

    What the tin says. This is basically set in feriowind's Poke-vengers verse, except I'm only using Gen I Pokemon for the most part, because that's what I'm familiar with. Enjoy!

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  5. Summary

    Bones works at a BDSM hotline, and one night he receives a client that changes his life forever.

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Recent bookmarks

  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "Thrown out already?" Geralt asks, and sees the bard shaking his head from the corner of his eye.

    "Hardly! But a wise bard knows when to leave the audience wanting more."

    "I've never met one."

    "One what?"

    "A wise bard," he says, and glances over to see the bard's mouth flapping indignantly.

    "I -- am going to let that go, because you're right, where are my manners." He ducks in front of Geralt as they step onto solid ground, forcing him to halt, and gives him a bow, no less graceful for being quickly executed. "Jaskier, troubadour, poet -- and barker -- at your service."

    __________________________________

    Geralt assumes the bard will wander away of his own accord. Eventually.

    It takes a while to realize that's the last thing he wants.

    Language:
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    24 Apr 2020

  2. Public Bookmark 5

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    Phoenix gave Kristoph a lazy smile. "And I suppose you have a suggestion in mind for exactly how I should relax?"

    "I ran you a bath."

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    15 Mar 2020

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "Geralt is able to scent the guilt on a lying man from ten feet away, to catch sight of half a pawprint in the undergrowth in the dead of night, to know when to lean back before the coming blade can cut through his throat. Much of it comes from his training at Kaer Morhen, where his instincts were honed and enhanced, but even more comes from his travels and experiences while walking the Path. Geralt notices things, because not noticing means death.

    He does not notice the lack of singing."

     

    Something is very wrong with Jaskier.

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    22 Jan 2020

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    It’s 6:18 A.M. on a Monday, and Stiles is using his thumbs to shape the fondant butt of a Winnie the Pooh sculpture. It’s the most action he’s seen in a long time.

    --

    Or the one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn't know he's part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

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    22 Dec 2019

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “We can’t just leave him here to die.”

    “He’s an emissary, Scott.” Derek tried to make his tone empathetic, but Scott’s tendency to fight back on everything always grated on his nerves. “His pack is gone, he won’t survive more than a day or two either way.”

    “Then we should stay with him.”

    Derek sighed as he studied the man for a moment; he was too pale against the fur rim of his hood, almost grey from lying out in the snow, and his cloak was stained with dark dried blood around a protruding arrow shaft. It was unlikely he would even last the night. They would probably be able to carry on in the morning with little time lost, if any.

    It wasn’t a horrible idea, Derek decided reluctantly. They hadn’t been able to set up a real camp for a few weeks in the open foothills, and they were all on edge from sleeping in exposed areas. A defensible place to sleep would be good for them, even if they were surrounded by death. They would be able to give the pack proper burials, at the very least.

    “Fine. One night,” Derek relented, already moving away to check on Isaac. “He’s your responsibility.”

    Language:
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    22 Oct 2019

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