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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 6 months

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So you had once mentioned that Batman trying to rescue/free darling, that would trigger a origins Deathstroke type of boss battle with Jason, and I’m curious, what other thots did you have on how that would go? Also bonus points if there’s a part at the end where there’s like falling debris or something and Jason makes a beeping for darling and shields them and Batman sees just how much he loves her

So Jason could NOT beat Batman in a simple hand to hand fight, and I think he knows this lol. It's why his biggest weapon is his familiarity to Bruce and exploiting his weaknesses in conjunction with overkill attacks. He's going to use pistols to be somewhat up-close without being at risk of getting disarmed, and put pressure on Bruce with his militia. Basically the Jason boss fight as I hoped it would go in-game is a mix of predator combat with him and the militia (like what we got), but that Jason also adapts in COMBAT one-on-one. Remember in City where if you did a type of attack, Freeze would adapt and you couldn't use it anymore? Jason's combat segments do the same thing: You use your Quickfire Batarang once, it doesn't work after that. Use a cape stun and beat-em-up combo? Only works once. I would also go one step further and implement a way to track what your most commonly used attacks/gadgets are in combat sections throughout the WHOLE game, and during the boss fight make them unusable. It makes sense narratively since Jason will have been observing Batman's strategy/fighting style the entire game and should be adapting accordingly. But Rocksteady only had so much money and so much time and fixing Jason's boss fight is one of MANY priorities they should've improved on lol.

With Darling, I think they'd work as a potential "stage hazard" of sorts. Once Jason is at 0 health, Darling rushes to try and prevent him from killing Batman/beg him to stop, this isn't worth it. And with Jason's hatred for Bruce overtaking his protectiveness at the one moment he has to kill Bruce himself, he lashes out and fires a warning shot at Darling (similar to the one he fires at Barbara after she crashes the car). His warning shot is however WAY closer than he intended and actually grazes them, and he panics thinking that he's injured or killed the one person he promised he'd protect.

Bruce uses the distraction to defeat Jason, but things play out similarly to the endgame where Scarecrow takes Jim hostage and has him go to Arkham. Bruce, accepting that he might really die tonight, gives Jason the first aid kit in his utility belt and tells Jason not to make the same mistake he did--"Don't value your mission over someone you love getting hurt." Batman's crusade against crime has gotten so many people he's cared about hurt/killed: Harvey, Barbara, Alfred (nearly dying in Origins), Jason. And he doesn't want Jason's quest for revenge to continue the cycle of loved ones being hurt when you need to focus on saving them. It's why Jason didn't realize how much Bruce had changed, when instead of focusing on Scarecrow and the Cloudburst (despite Alfred correctly pointing out Barbara would WANT Batman to value the mission over her), Batman refuses and immediately dedicates himself to saving her first.

So narratively it ties a nice little bow on things thematically and adds even more parallels between Jason and Bruce, as well as Jason and Darling. And nothing fucks my shit up like narrative parallels.

#i quote this George Lucas line way too much #my mom hates it and will actively cut me off #like we watch smth and its like #Me: Ohh. See that? It's like poetry it rhymes.#Mom: Yep.#Me: Each stanza y'know--#Mom: YEP.#Me: Each stanza with the last just rhy--#Mom: GODDAMMIT EVERY TIME #.dc #.arkhamverse #.jason todd #.arkham knight #yandere dc #yandere arkhamverse #yandere arkham knight #.myshit

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poniadeaur · 2 months

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A cringe poem I wrote years back....

Don't try to invade my personal space, Don't touch my body nor my face No, not because of your gender and race Neither because I' having bad days

It is for everyone, you're not the special case Whether in public or in the workplace Remember this basic rule always "MAINTAIN AN ADEQUATE DISTANCE"

Not that I want to treat you like dirt, I strongly mean these words, not a blurt On my thighs and under my shirt Certain touches cause great discomfort.

Trust me, it has nothing to do with the mood Only that, touching someone without consent is really lewd. Humble request, not to sound rude Just try to act a little more prude

For long, in our society it brewed A judgment rough and crude, That the victim was supposed to be reviewed But now that our senses have been renewed

All those cool dudes are really screwed Because now legal measure will be pursued You'll be surely sued And judges will be the final ones to conclude

For sexual harassment Or touching without consent So you better act a little descent Or jail will be your next segment

And all friends who've been through this,

Whatever you tolerated, whatever you underwent, Play, push, pull or another torment You need to suppress their dissent And put forward your argument

Ask for help better not too late Courage is all you need to generate Be patient, be sedate And at last, everything will be in a better state

Justice is not served in silver plate No need to hesitate And for sure, this movement, once you initiate A lot will be able to relate

Your words should debate, activate and agitate Your actions should illustrate, educate and generate Don't dominate, irritate or isolate And finally, it should cultivate and recreate Our new and safe world

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env0writes · 6 months

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No Longer Remembered 11.13.23 "Noct-Eternal Games"

i. “I am hungry” Cried the coyote to the night The moon pulled aside her veil and spoke, “You shall eat by my light” Beneath their feet scurried rats, Who looked up in wonder and awe Seeing gods and angels Across the moon's unveiled face, bats, they saw In tandem flight who might have joined But owls, downy from their daily sleep How busy is the evening hour In shadows, looking for their meals, they creep ii. We are hungry, squeaked the rats Beneath the coyote’s feet they fled Where once was dark is now full of light Whose appetite they now must dread The coyote snarled, “You’ll be my meal, If no greater than tiny scraps” So swift they scurried to dark and quiet places Into giants’ dens lain littered full of traps Oh prowling, howling hunters Who, hoot and growl for food As ghosts and whispers do they seek Through town and slimming wood iii. Oh, moon, oh, light Soft owls float at night Bats and other beastly things That hover causing fright “If you show them all the beauty, Of the night beneath your gaze How might we even catch them Through the woody maze?” Bats and owls plead to moon Who listens to their plight And answers this and only thus “I’ll turn away so you might see the light And too the night” iv. So, coyote howled beneath the moon Between them danced bats and owls Below them all the rats and mice and critters nice Hungry hunters give chase beneath the waning stomach growls The moon refused to watch, all night, nor turning day How could she choose who lives; who dies As she’d observe their game would change A just but cruel mistress knows not who survives Seek out your meal, your hope, your life With teeth and claw and will to live The night is yours, pale face to show To all a chance I’ll give, so please, oh please, forgive–me

@env0writes C.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist! Photo by @env0

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imakemywings · 4 months

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If Daeron says he'll write a song about you that is a threat

#get ready for twelve rhyming stanzas of roasting #daeron #the silmarillion #tolkien tag #mine

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theood · 3 months

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Th' stereotype that autistic people like numbers was always one I was like "oh! not me though haha. Cuz we are normal"

In 4-5 grade all I would write were Haikus. I wrote hundreds of them for my classes and I would share them when we shared our work. My teacher was super positive about nurturing this in me and I loved counting out syllables and following the rigidness of writing them.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately

#elias howls #Little literature boy strikes again. I started to say I hated poems because that's what everyone else around me did at a certain age (and i #had to fit in) BUT I DON'T!!!!!! I'VE NEVER HATED POETRY!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!! I LOVE COUNTING STANZAS AND LISTING OUT RHYMING SCHEMES AND #I LOVE LITERARY ANALYSIS ESPECIALLY WITH POEMS BECAUSE TWO PEOPLE CAN TAKE TWO VERY DIFFERENT IDEAS/MORALS/END FROM POEMS. GRRRRGRUAGH I W #ISH I COULD GO BACK TO ANALYSIS. I HAVE SO MUCH PASSION FOR READING AND DISCUSSION AND LITERATURE. FUCK!!!!!!!!!!

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creatediana · 23 days

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"Leaps of Good Literature" - an octave written 8/26/2023

#i took the form of this stanza from the york mystery plays cycle #the barkers play the fall of the angels specifically #we love medieval poetry and verse plays on this blog #2023 #rhyme scheme #poem #poetry #medieval poetry #(for the rhyme scheme)#form poetry #poets on tumblr #feminine rhymes #amphibrachic meter #amphibrachic tetrameter #amphibrachic trimeter #octave

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fluentisonus · 2 years

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youtube

Since we've finally gotten there & it's my favorite song in the book!! This is my personal favorite version of the Song of Eärendil/Eärendil Was a Mariner

Lyrics (also in today's newsletter):

that tarried in Arvernien;

Eärendil was a mariner

he built a boat of timber felled

in Nimbrethil to journey in;

her sails he wove of silver fair,

of silver were her lanterns made,

her prow he fashioned like a swan,

and light upon her banners laid.

In panoply of ancient kings,

in chainéd rings he armoured him;

his shining shield was scored with runes

to ward all wounds and harm from him;

his bow was made of dragon-horn,

his arrows shorn of ebony,

of silver was his habergeon,

his scabbard of chalcedony;

his sword of steel was valiant,

of adamant his helmet tall,

an eagle-plume upon his crest,

upon his breast an emerald.

Beneath the Moon and under star

he wandered far from northern strands,

bewildered on enchanted ways

beyond the days of mortal lands.

From gnashing of the Narrow Ice

where shadow lies on frozen hills,

from nether heats and burning waste

he turned in haste, and roving still

on starless waters far astray

at last he came to Night of Naught,

and passed, and never sight he saw

of shining shore nor light he sought.

The winds of wrath came driving him,

and blindly in the foam he fled

from west to east, and errandless,

unheralded he homeward sped.

There flying Elwing came to him,

and flame was in the darkness lit;

more bright than light of diamond

the fire upon her carcanet.

The Silmaril she bound on him

and crowned him with the living light,

and dauntless then with burning brow

he turned his prow; and in the night

from Otherworld beyond the Sea

there strong and free a storm arose,

a wind of power in Tarmenel;

by paths that seldom mortal goes

his boat it bore with biting breath

as might of death across the grey

and long-forsaken seas distressed:

from east to west he passed away.

Through Evernight he back was borne

on black and roaring waves that ran

o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores

that drowned before the Days began,

until he heard on strands of pearl

where ends the world the music long,

where ever-foaming billows roll

the yellow gold and jewels wan.

He saw the Mountain silent rise

where twilight lies upon the knees

of Valinor, and Eldamar

beheld afar beyond the seas.

A wanderer escaped from night

to haven white he came at last,

to Elvenhome the green and fair

where keen the air, where pale as glass

beneath the Hill of Ilmarin

a-glimmer in a valley sheer

the lamplit towers of Tirion

are mirrored on the Shadowmere.

He tarried there from errantry,

and melodies they taught to him,

and sages old him marvels told,

and harps of gold they brought to him.

They clothed him then in elven-white,

and seven lights before him sent,

as through the Calacirian

to hidden land forlorn he went.

He came unto the timeless halls

where shining fall the countless years,

and endless reigns the Elder King

in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer;

and words unheard were spoken then

of folk of Men and Elven-kin,

beyond the world were visions showed

forbid to those that dwell therein.

A ship then new they built for him

of mithril and of elven-glass

with shining prow; no shaven oar

nor sail she bore on silver mast:

the Silmaril as lantern light

and banner bright with living flame

to gleam thereon by Elbereth

herself was set, who thither came

and wings immortal made for him,

and laid on him undying doom,

to sail the shoreless skies and come

behind the Sun and light of Moon.

From Evereven's lofty hills

where softly silver fountains fall

his wings him bore, a wandering light,

beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.

From World's End then he turned away,

and yearned again to find afar

his home through shadows journeying,

and burning as an island star

on high above the mists he came,

a distant flame before the Sun,

a wonder ere the waking dawn

where grey the Norland waters run.

And over Middle-earth he passed

and heard at last the weeping sore

of women and of elven-maids

in Elder Days, in years of yore.

But on him mighty doom was laid,

till Moon should fade, an orbéd star

to pass, and tarry never more

on Hither Shores where mortals are;

for ever still a herald on

an errand that should never rest

to bear his shining lamp afar,

the Flammifer of Westernesse.

#normally I like clamavi de profundid but I find their version of this to be a little much. imo it's better with one voice & minimal music #anyways I love this song soo much. I know it's long and hard to follow if you don't know the storyin it but I HIGHLY recommend #just like reading yourself thr first stanza out loud to hear yhe rhyme scheme/rhythm because it's absolutely delicious #& hard to get if you're just reading it silently #thoughts #tolkien #lotr newsletter #if you can't hear it you may need to turn the volume up bc it's a very quiet recording

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xyliaxart · 2 years

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[Poem Transcript]

This too shall pass This too shall end This broken mind of mine will one day be mend

Happy days will fade and sad ones will too one chapter will end to start another anew

I will not leave gently I’ve broken like glass but even this pain yes, this too, shall pass

[end transcript]

#original poetry #poem #rhyming poetry #this too shall pass #my poetry #poetry #original #original poem #xyliaxart #three stanza poem #poetry art #words

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dramatic-dolphin · 9 months

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made the mistake of looking at the poetry smackdown blog. it's like i've eaten something really bad and i need an ady verseskötet to get the taste out of my mouth

#you guys live like this.........#sorry im a poetry snob. i hate these poems. lol.#this is not an attack i'm just very old-fashioned about poetry 😭😭#i think there should be stanzas and rhymes and szótagszám. sorry.

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yukiwhitetm · 3 months

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Ambulatory, a poem/song

by Yuki_White @yukiwhitetm @sentariana

Look! She can walk, did you see!?

She can walk just like you and me!

Look! She can walk, did you see?

She can walk just like you and me!

It's a miracle! A magical, supernatural miracle of God!

It shows he's here among us as he healed her bod'!

Or was she lying about being disabled all the while?

Wow! Then she went more than ten yards but a whole mile!

I mean it, she can walk, take me seriously!

Come on, she can walk, why aren't you as shocked as me!?

I mean it, she can walk, take me seriously!

Come on, she can walk, why aren't you as shocked as me!?

She stood from her mobility scooter and walked a short way.

Yes, she used a crutch but - she walked away!

She can't be disabled if she could do as I say!

Either it's a miracle or she's lying - Wait!

What?! But she can walk, you must've seen!

I swear it, she can walk, why won't you listen to me?!

What?! But she can walk, you must've seen!

I swear it, she can walk, why won't you listen to me?!

I didn't know that. I didn't know that

Many mobility aid users can walk about

And it's called being ambulatory.

I was ignorant, I didn't know, I'm sorry.

So what if she can walk. There's nothing to see!

OK, so she can walk. But that's normal, really!

So what if she can walk. There's nothing to see!

OK, so she can walk. But that's normal, really!

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definegodliness · 2 years

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Walking you home

Infatuated sighs; a tethered heart Allowed a confession's wordless lean way; Its vision too grand to crudely impart In breath put to speech; in attempts to say:

"I will love you forever and a day."

This, I do know: you have suffused me whole; In ways that I first must learn to convey The voice that spills directly from this soul, Unexpectedly born on a quaint evening stroll.

#poetry #spilled ink #writing #love poem #poem #love poetry #infatuation #creative writing #romance #emotion #romanticism #romantic poem #romantic poetry #fixed verse #rhyme #tumblr poetry #poets on tumblr #writeblr #spensarian stanza

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buzzings · 9 months

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T O K N O W A M A N

you can know his preferred ballpoint tip weight, and that his least favorite flavor is cherry; you can know he won’t eat chinese food—the sweet dishes, he thinks, should stay savory.

you can know he loves classic rock on account of his father’s taste, and you can know he likes a bloody mary, and one white wine from that lavish estate.

you can know why he never went to summer camp. you can know every sign of his zodiac. you can know that his mom’s name is tina, and you can know he’ll put it all on black.

you can know that he loves walnut brownies from the convenience store down the street (you can know that he likes them atop a napkin for a minute in the microwave to reheat).

you can know his favorite color is blue (not red, as you first thought); you can know that he hates cinnamon whiskey, and, inexplicably, apple picking leaves him distraught.

you can know he hates a christmas ham, though, too, a hog roasted for easter. and you can know he’d eat it anyway despite its brown sugar coating at the tail end of winter.

you can know he’d sooner walk into traffic than take you to an amusement park; for no matter how deep his adoration, to him, a rollercoaster is not worth the spark.

you can know all this, until there is nothing more— ‘til your mind cycles through all the ways… the ways in which you know a man with whom you spend almost all your days.

you can even know more than his lovers do. but you cannot Know a man into Loving you.

#wrote this one in one hour right before work #woke up with the last line repeating in my brain and i was like 'i like that let me write that down' and then 9 stanzas happened #going thru some stuff x #bi girl blues 😔#poems #title: to know a man #slant rhymes! getchya slant rhymes here!

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ryteu · 4 months

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The Deathdream

There is a tale, now old, I call the Deathdream— The final flash of thought through fading minds, Recounting the account of life in full Before the fire fails and flickers out; The brain, it's said, takes on the role of friend Most dear and offers out a cigarette By way of memory, the only gift Of comfort it can give before the light Sinks down into the darkling, Lethe sea.

I wonder whether fear is put aside When it begins, or does it gain a new, Less choking flavor? Become more like bitter But soothing medicine, the fertile soil That gives way to calm before oblivion? The dream must seem so peaceful from outside, Where others see what seems a quiet sleep; It's kind to hope the same is true within.

Perhaps the dream must rush itself as Death Begins to press; yet, still there must come stillness In a soul as the vision nears its end. If nothing else, the living may find comfort In peaceful stillness washing suffering Away, and hoping that a careful reaper Now ferries love into the dreamless dark.

The way I hear the story told, the mind Does not pass judgment on the soul; instead, I hope, it shows the truth - the better, worse - Then takes one's hand and smiles - sad and soft - While saying, "'Twas a lovely dream, this life; The evil scars will fade before the kind."

And even should it be an empty lie, It matters not for those who then must die; Such comfort would be cruelest to deny. Before the long, unending, dreamless sleep, Our final dream should bring to us some peace.

It may be vain to ponder on a dream Forlorn that none alive may ever see; To claim to ken what happens at the end As though it might resolve the mystery.

It is, indeed, the greatest irony That death, our single commonality, Must stay unknown to all humanity.

Perhaps the dream is nothing but a tale; Yet, comfort still I find within the question:

What shape, I wonder, shall my Deathdream take?

#so I wrote another poem using an impulsively-created experimental stanza structure #I think it add to what I'm trying to say here #(assuming tumblr doesn't fuck up my formatting that is)#(if it does then you should know that it's 9 stanzas with one less line in each subsequent stanza so 9 then 8 then 7 etc)#I wrote this one immediately after finishing Spiritfarer because I had/have some feelings #and because the first line spawned in my head during the final journey #anyway hopefully some of you look at this and find it at least mildly interesting #ry rhymes #p.s. go play Spiritfarer if you can. It's a very good game.

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creatediana · 19 days

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"Myrrha's Son" - a poem written 4/08/2024

Inspired by the passage in The Wild Irish Girl (1806) by Sydney Owenson, Lady Morgan:

In short, there are a thousand little fugitive graces playing around her, which are not beauty, but the cause of it; and were I to personify the word spell, she should sit for the picture.

#venus and adonis stanzas #that's why the adonis-allusion of a title #i took a passage about a lady but i thought it'd be hotter if it were about a man #poetry #poem #2024 #iambic meter #iambic pentameter #sestets #form poetry #poets on tumblr #classical poetry #irish poetry #the wild irish girl #sydney owenson #venus #adonis #that rhyme scheme really does make me wanna write love poetry on my lunch break

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recapitulation · 2 years

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[ID: a screenshot of the poem "The Garden of Proserpine" by Algernon Charles Swinburne. The 2nd, 4th, and last lines of each stanza are indented. It reads:

"Here, where the world is quiet; / Here, where all trouble seems / Dead winds' and spent waves' riot / In doubtful dreams of dreams; / I watch the green field growing / For reaping folk and sowing, / For harvest-time and mowing, / A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter, / And men that laugh and weep; / Of what may come hereafter / For men that sow to reap: / I am weary of days and hours, / Blown buds of barren flowers, / Desires and dreams and powers / And everything but sleep.

Here life has death for neighbour, / And far from eye or ear / Wan waves and wet winds labour, / Weak ships and spirits steer; / They drive adrift, and whither / They wot not who make thither; / But no such winds blow hither, / And no such things grow here.

No growth of moor or coppice, / No heather-flower or vine, / But bloomless buds of poppies, / Green grapes of Proserpine, / Pale beds of blowing rushes / Where no leaf blooms or blushes / Save this whereout she crushes / For dead men deadly wine.

Pale, without name or number, / In fruitless fields of corn, / They bow themselves and slumber / All night till light is born; / And like a soul belated, / In hell and heaven unmated, / By cloud and mist abated / Comes out of darkness morn.

Though one were strong as seven, / He too with death shall dwell, / Nor wake with wings in heaven, / Nor weep for pains in hell; / Though one were fair as roses, / His beauty clouds and closes; / And well though love reposes, / In the end it is not well.

Pale, beyond porch and portal, / Crowned with calm leaves, she stands / Who gathers all things mortal / With cold immortal hands; / Her languid lips are sweeter / Than love's who fears to greet her / To men that mix and meet her / From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other, / She waits for all men born; / Forgets the earth her mother, / The life of fruits and corn; / And spring and seed and swallow / Take wing for her and follow / Where summer song rings hollow / And flowers are put to scorn.

There go the loves that wither, / The old loves with wearier wings; / And all dead years draw thither, / And all disastrous things; / Dead dreams of days forsaken, / Blind buds that snows have shaken, / Wild leaves that winds have taken, / Red strays of ruined springs.

We are not sure of sorrow, / And joy was never sure; / To-day will die to-morrow; / Time stoops to no man's lure; / And love, grown faint and fretful, / With lips but half regretful / Sighs, and with eyes forgetful / Weeps that no loves endure.

From too much love of living, / From hope and fear set free, / We thank with brief thanksgiving / Whatever gods may be / That no life lives for ever; / That dead men rise up never; / That even the weariest river / Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken, / Nor any change of light: / Nor sound of waters shaken, / Nor any sound or sight: / Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, / Nor days nor things diurnal; / Only the sleep eternal / In an eternal night." /end ID]

#safe for work garden of proserpine #this poem is so dear to me....do i fully understand it? no.... i still want to eat it though #poetry #fave #i just love the shape of each stanza. the rhyme repetition. the meter #the 2nd to last stanza gives me literal chills #every so often i have to look it up and reread it to rechage my humanity battery

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drumlincountry · 11 months

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Pity 'ACAB' isn't a workable rhyme scheme... in that u would usually denote that pattern as 'ABAC'. [Comrade Yoda voice] Are bastards, all cops.

#Is Yoda a comrade? He is kinda a cult leader. I'm sure there's 500000000 words of discourse on this somewhere #could ofc do ABAC or ABCA or w/e in the first stanza & continue with ACAB for the rest of the stanzas #ABBA however is a great rhyme scheme #Me Fein #Poetry

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