Sorray if my writings a little messy LMAO, but honestly I think I'm loving this idea. Like they could just be trainers you see in the wild.. Noah could be a trainer you could see in the wild. Last I checked, no trainer has held items... Besides Cynthia in BdSp? I haven't finished the games though
for the outfits, I took from their regular ones (Cody's striped shirt & whatever Noah has), but made sure to mix it up a little so it didn't look like I was just giving TD characters pokemon. I wanted to kinda get that Pokémon trainer clothing vibe w/ these, not sure how successful I was though
I put a bit of brainwork into the teams, and made them kind of based off personality. Since Noah is.. Yk.. Smart, I made his team center around strategy. Gollisopod is a spikes setter (idk if it still has the move now but oh well), then u-turns out to get some chip damage off. Then togekiss switches in, and uses calm mind once or twice then baton passes into his ace, malamar & sweeps (writing this, I realise malamar is more physical... And I'm not sure if baton pass ignores malamar's ability that swaps all stat changes).
Cody's team is kinda just me putting pokemon I think he would like, although like all of them are bipeds.. Woops.. I did go a little insane on the items, though vgc players would look down upon my team building skills still.
There is something to the way Johnny's last moments are defined by a hand that slips, being carted away in an ambulance, and the view of Night City becoming smaller and smaller as it disappears to the horizon, juxtaposed with the way there is no way for V and Johnny live or die together, except with a bullet to the brain.
They both died alone once and I say, if they can’t live together then they should be allowed to choose to perish together, so neither of them has to die alone twice.
I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
I'm concepting things way outta order in this story, but I'm sure you can piece things together. Context is for a storybeat where, after defeating and capturing Adagio (thus having all three sirens in her possession), Sunset enacts her revenge plot to release the sirens on Canterlot as Thea discovers she's been manipulated. In a confrontation, the two scuffle and fight over the siren orbs while Sunset struggles with her conflicting wants and emotions.
my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.
Something I noticed when rewatching this scene is how the people around Buck are all watching Gale dance with meatball but Gale only looks at John. John is the only person Gale has eyes for and seems to care about watching him. When he winks at John its as if he does it to ease John’s nerves and for John to remember him this way: dancing with meatball and being happy and John looks at him as if he wants to commit every second of this to his memory.
swear to god if I read another motherfucking fic where these vampires pause to get the lube I am going to have a fucking mental breakdown and chew holes in the walls. i have had it up to here. this is an intervention. this is a come-to-jesus moment. what are you doing. are you thinking about your choices. why are you making them have sex like they're humans instead of weird fucked-up vampire sex. look into my eyes. can you please consider your worldbuilding choices and make ones that are less excruciatingly boring. look at me. you're being the softest beigest pillow if you make them use human lube. i'm serious. i will die on this hill.
fight me in the comments if you disagree or you feel huffy about this, i don't care. come at me, bro, i own the night.