Do you have any lore on Nightmo? I just love that scrunkly edgy mcthingy so much ;^;
IN FACT I DO, I have two!
Read below since it’s a tad ranty ⬇️
My first thought went something like; “what if instead of a dream, the old man had a nightmare and that got projected instead of prismo”
So it goes like, prismo gets killed, and the old man goes back to sleep. But it’s a chance thing… especially if he saw something that would cause him to have a nightmare, like that whole Lich encounter but if it went differently.
Nightmo is just a flip of Prismo; needlessly cruel towards people who come to make a wish, that jazz. Sometimes I imagine he would trap people in the time room for his own enjoyment, and use that mind pwang ability to project nightmares into peoples heads while they’re sleeping. In this case prismo and nightmo wouldn’t know of each other’s existence unless told.
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Another passing thought was: “what if prismo somehow got flipped over? What would be on the other side?? The answer is Nightmo”
I haven’t thought about this one much, but I’d imagine it’s a power thing. Such as Prismo is good cop and Nightmo is bad cop, but prismo overtook Nightmo in power and he’s stuck smushed on the back of the wall in a limbo thingy… you could imagine what scenarios that could lead to, I’d like to explore this one more
Just as a note anyone can use/pick from/change these ideas for their own thing, I just like to think about possibilities and go on rants…. Totally not throwing the idea of someone writing a fanfic based off it… I would never!
jake doodle for you guys for reading all that
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going through the hades 2 stuff and im sorry but i just have to ramble a second because look at Hephaestus
he's not just a wheelchair user but also an amputee. an above knee amputee. wheelchair users are already next to nonexistant in video games but amputees exist in this really...disheartening? spot where they're pretty much just reduced to "person with a cybernetic limb" - it's always just somewhere from "just a cool visual design" to flat out "superpower". I can't think of a video game amputee that is actually disabled by their limb differences - I'm all for futuristic worlds where prosthetics and other disability aids are far advanced from what they are now, but that's not really what's implied by these designs. They're just... Cool designs that in no way reflect on the real-world experience of being an amputee.
Look at Hephaestus, though. Look at that prosthetic. Whilst stylised it very much looks like it functions like common mechanical knees - knee bends when thigh is lifted, knee straightens when thigh is lowered. He's a wheelchair user as well as a prosthetic user - every prosthetic user I know is also a wheelchair user as a prosthetic is not usable in every occasion and also cause exhaustion and pain if used constantly.
Whilst we can't see much of his wheelchair the position he's sat in and the wheels very much evoke active wheelchair to me - this carries on to very specifically the thickness of his arms. Whilst a lot of Hades designs are muscular Hephaestus has very noticeably thick arms - which makes sense, as active wheelchairs require a lot of arm strength.
Just overall this design is making me want to cry - he's not just an actual wheelchair user in a video game, he's a realistic depiction of an amputee, a disability usually brushed over in order to give a character a fun design quirk and nothing else. He's fat and he's hot and he's a realistic depiction of an above knee amputee. Oh my god. Oh my god?
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Gojo had never intended to make you cry. Sure, he teased you. Maybe a little bit too much. But he never wanted to actually hurt you. He was a cocky ass, but he wasn’t an asshole.
That’s what he wanted to tell himself anyway, even as your wide eyes brimmed with tears that clung to your lashes. It felt like a punch to the gut when the first tear fell.
Without even thinking, his hand came up to gently cup your cheek. “Don’t...” he whispered. His thumb swiped away at the wet track. “Don’t cry.”
But it was too late; more tears fell, leaving wet lines in their wake, the droplets clinging to your chin. He hated the sight of them; hated the way they documented his failure, a sentence of guilt written in watercolor against skin he’d admired with every sideways glance.
He wanted to make them disappear, to extinguish them and replace them with warmth. To take your trembling lips and make them smile again. Gojo cradled your face in both of his hands, his large, calloused thumbs wiping away at your tears. You closed your eyes, caught up in the way your heart twisted in your chest at the warmth of his touch.
You felt his forehead touch yours, his soft hair cushioned between you. “I’m sorry...” he whispered. “I didn’t mean...”
Gojo’s words died on his lips as he felt more fresh, hot tears catch on his thumbs, heard you sniffle and try to hide the soft sob that wanted to unfurl from within your chest.
His air left his lungs, a slow panic building at the possibility that maybe, this time, a sorry wouldn’t be enough. That maybe, this time, there was no such thing as forgiveness, and that he’d never again get to see you smile at him.
“I’m sorry...” he repeated, as his lips pressed gently against your forehead. You froze beneath his affection, stunned.
He didn’t stop there. His lips traveled lower, brushing against your wet lashes, against your cheeks, each time echoing his apology in earnest supplication. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Finally, he came to your still-trembling lips, the soft flesh wet where you’d licked with your tongue, although whether it was in anticipation of his lips or to taste your own tears, he wasn’t sure. Gojo hesitated, for just the slightest fraction of a moment, waiting...
And then you gave it to him, the sign he was looking for. The ever so subtle tilt of your chin, the flutter of lashes as you peaked at him through the dew drops in hope.
His lips met yours, soft and gentle, your face still gently cupped in his hands. You finally responded, returning the kiss with your hands wrapping around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck.
Gojo pulled away just enough to be able to speak, his lips barely brushing yours. Your eyes were open now, staring into his, and for a moment the universe consisted of just the two of you, two celestial bodies drawn together by the gravity of your hearts.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven...?” he whispered.
“No.” you replied with a grin.
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Prompt 113
“I seem to have been taken hostage.”
Batman’s words almost had Superman panic if not for the wry tone, a tone which the others didn’t know if their freaking out was to go by. Clark sighed through the comms, tired after battle and honestly wanting to go to bed now.
“I’ll be right over, what child has latched onto you now?” He asked while switching to a more private channel.
“I can already hear you making fun of me…” Wha- Oh. Clark bit his lip to keep himself from laughing as he took to the air. “They appear to be a pair of twins with…”
“You gotta’ say it Bruce, you gotta’,” Clark couldn’t stop the chuckle when he saw his friend on the top of a building, cape curled around his form in a way usually reserved for the robins.
“... with dark hair… and blue eyes…” That was it. Clark absolutely lost it in laughter.
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