"You Smell Of Sand And Sweat. My Dreams Have Better Taste"

How do I reblog something 8 million times

Hey Respawn, please stop this.

I’ve been playing Apex Legends pretty much since it came out. Took a long break on it and am finally back into now that it has crossplay but i’ve noticed something again that’s been irking me for a while now.

This.

Everything else about this skin is very nice except his hair. Not only is that shit..ugly but it’s also cultural appreciation.

As well as this,

Crypto is Korean if I’m remembering correctly and that skin is supposed to be the Hype Beast sort of style yeah. There is a PLETHORA of amazing hairstyles that are not only originally from South Korea but just in general and yet they chose a cornrow style...

I’m not even going to say anything about Wraith. Those look like grinch fingers not locks.

Now, listen. All this wouldn’t be so bad if Bangalore didn’t have the same hairstyle just in different lengths and colors for all her skins.

I love that Apex had a diverse set of characters pretty much from launch, I do! I was so excited to see that after months of playing OW and their “diverse” cast of characters. I love that they had two strong black(and incredibly attractive. Lookin at you bangalore.) women right off the bat but I don’t like seeing them waste their amazing stylistic potential by giving the all of the traditionally black hair styles to the non-black characters.

We want this:

Look at her! She looks amazing!

Not this:

No body wants to get an epic Victory Royale with rat tails on their head.

Smiles that changed the world

Lifeline and Baptiste! Drew these two for Otakufest Miami for an ad since the VAs for these two will be there! I hope to get it signed!

“hahaha why are you so small”

alternatively: POV you just got ur butt kicked in the apex gym and the two jocks loom victorious over you also ur bi or something. what do you do

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Death of the Demon

Short story in which Talia murders her father, intent on tending to her son and living happily.

CW // Implied/mentioned suicide, Graphic depiction of pain/ injury

Talia stands on the edge of a cliff, looking across at the mountain range before her. Her legacy, she thinks, land that should be hers. Was supposed to be hers. This cliff was hers, this palace was hers, this army was hers. It was meant to be. When Ra’s passed… but he never did. He never will. The lazarus pits scattered across the globe prevent this from being the case. And as she gazes out at the horizon, watching the servants carry as much luggage as they can, she realizes it is endless. This pointless cycle. Where Ra’s gets himself killed and his body is retrieved by those who revere him. Who fear his wrath even in death. As his body is tossed, again and again, into pits of green liquid. Bubbling and boiling and spitting him back out, worse and worse each time. There was no beating someone who laughs in the face of death.

It infuriated her. Knowing she had no control over a single aspect of her life. Not even the people she loves. For so long she’s been awake, waiting, plotting… pondering over hundreds of options. And now she had everything put into play. Her people were leaving, moving on to a new place with a new and fresh lazarus pit. The one they’d been using for so many years now was slowly drying up, but it had one use left. One she intended to take.

She glances out at the horizon once again, taking in the pleasant warmth of the setting sun. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her eyes open slowly and she begins to hum a tune, singing quietly as she steps closer to the ledge. “Nami nami ya sghiri, ta ighfa a’al hasiri.” The lullaby grows louder in her head, her mothers voice coming into mind. Her eyes close again as she thinks of her mother.

“Nami a’altimi ta tnzah, I’gheymi.” Her mother sings to her, softly so not to wake her father who sleeps in the other room. “W yseer a’ana dawo kbeer, yedawi a’a kil ‘ljeeri.” Soft hands smooth over her forehead, tucking strands of hair away from Talias face and behind her ear. Her mother presses a kiss to her forehead, and Talia drifts to sleep.

“Bukra bayyek jayye… Hamel ghallet ‘lemon…” Talia sings, stepping closer to the edge, until her toes hang across it. Her brows furrow, and she thinks of her son. All the times she’d sung that lullaby to him just as her mother had to her.

“Bijeblek tanura w shal, ta tedfi bkanon.” She’d lay in bed with him, his head on her lap, and she’d stroke his tired face with such a gentle caress. One you would never expect from the dragoness. “Ya zaghtturet elhandaqa, sha’arek aswad w mna’aa…” Even when he was surely asleep, she would sing. And when the song was finished she would lay back on the headboard and stay with him, rubbing his back until she grew comfortable enough to sleep. Never for the full night, but for at least a few minutes every hour. That was all she ever needed.

Her foot dangles over the cliff. If the plan did not succeed… she would be left to rot at the bottom of these mountains. Strangled by the bones of warriors long dead, who may finally get their revenge on the daughter of the demon. If she did die here, it was without regret. Her son was safe, and that was all that mattered. She had no fear or doubts though. She knew this was a full proof plan.

“W li habbek bebusek, w li bghdek shu betraqa.” She finishes the last of the lullaby and falls to the depths below, with only her son in mind. “‘Ala raasii, my son. We will be together.” The force of the wind scratches her skin, tugging at her hair and forcing her eyes closed. She accepts it openly, arms outstretched as if desperate for its embrace. It is not the first time she has fallen, it will unlikely be the last.

CW // Graphic injury

Her body hits the ground with a sickening crack and the world goes dark instantly. Just as suddenly as she was gone, she is brought back, and when her eyes open she is met with pools of bright green swirling around her. She feels the excruciating pain of her bones rearranging, snapping into place and sealing together. Of her skin, once bloody and broken, rapidly reconnecting. And as she twists and contorts, her mind shatters and rebuilds. Her goal still ever present in the back of her head as her body lifted from the pools.

CW over —

Ra’s holds her in his arms, gently releasing when she starts to move, and she sees the look on his face. Anger, resentment… relief. There is not a servant in sight, nor an assassin to be detected. Aside from the ones she’d entrusted to guard the pool.

“What on Earth were you thinking?” He practically growls, watching her flex her fingers.

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer. Every move and sound he makes is one she’s long predicted, and every move she makes is one that has been carefully planned through. “Forgive me, father. I’d simply thought it best to be rid of the last remainder of essence before our departure.” She is monotone when she speaks, and Ra’s strokes his beard thoughtfully before humming. It is a plan he approves of, of course… why wouldn’t it be.

“And you did not think to inform me?”

“I was simply training my body and mind the way you taught me to.” She reminds him, furrowing her brow. As stated before, it was not the first time she had fallen. The pain was something so normal to her, but she remembers how unpleasant her first time was. How loud she screamed. “Have you forgotten our regiments, father?”

Ra’s shakes his head, hands clasped behind his back as he paces the room. It is silent for a moment, and as his back is turned she retrieves the sword she’d stowed away within the cave, brandishing it at him. He turns to her, a sick but bemused grin on his thin lips.

“What is this, you wish to spar now, my dear Talia?” He reaches for the blade on his waist. “Very well then.” He lunges at her quickly, and their swords clash. With every swift strike he makes, she strikes back even faster, twisting around him and knocking him onto his back. He huffs, preparing to flip up, but is met with a sword to his chin.

“This is no sparring match, father. This is battle.” She raises her sword to strike but is kicked back by Ra’s, who quickly stands and meets her blade once again. Talia slices into his skin and he slices hers in turn, swiping quickly and targeting her weak points. They break away for a moment, circling the ground like sharks.

“You wish to best me, daughter? You could not even best The Batman!” He spits, lunging at her ferociously.

She meets his blade, clanging together against it with each strike. “That is because I love Bruce. Not because you tell me too, but because I want to!” She growls, true to her dragoness name, and strikes his arm. “I am my own person! I am a human being! You cannot- you WILL not… take that from me, ever again.” With this bold statement, Ra’s laughs.

He catches her off guard and knocks her onto her stomach, pressing his foot onto her back. “You are nothing but a pawn Talia. No different from your sisters or brothers, nor your mother or your son.” For a moment there is a sense of fear within Talia. A moment of unpreparedness. He steps on her even harder, and she winces at the pain, struggling to reach for her side.

“No…” She huffs, struggling to move. “I will be free… I will be free!” She screams, surging with adrenaline, and forces him off of her. She flips over to where her sword sits at the edge of the lazarus pit, hastily grabbing it and brandishing it at her father.

“I am Talia Al Ghul, daughter of the demon, the most dangerous woman alive. I will conquer you just as I have conquered countless enemies.” Her sword hits his with enough force that it is knocked from his hand, and he seems genuinely surprised. “I will kill you just as you have killed my sister!” She screams, slicing into him with her sword, again and again with each scream.

“Just as you have driven away my brother, I will drive you into the ground!” SLICE. “Just as you have beaten my beloved, I will beat you! And I will rise over you with the strength you could never obtain, with the drive you senselessly pursued, and I will do it all without YOU!” Her sword plunges into his stomach and through him, his body slumping against hers. She whispers in his ear.

“I will push you into the pit of which has driven you beyond recognition, that has infected your mind to the point of insanity. Just as it is dried of its essence, so too will you, and you will never rise to see the light of another day. I am the demons head now. You…” She pushes him off of her blade and into the murky green pool below. “Will be nothing.” Talia huffs, watching his body sink until it is at the very bottom, and turning toward the exit.

“My lady!” Her trusted companion calls out, bowing hastily, while the others rush to tend to her wounds. Talia only pushes them off. “Is it done?” She asks, and Talia only nods, walking off quietly. Everyone else follows after her.

Except for one.

End!! Lmk if I’m doing a good job writing Talia! For anyone curious the song she sings is a lullaby called Nami Nami! I found the translation on a website, so I hope it’s accurate

Sleep, sleep my little one

Slumber peacefully on the rug

Sleep in the darkness

Until the cloud passes

After it will come a great light

And we will all see it

Sleep, sleep my little child Sleep, sleep my little one

Sleep, sleep, sleep Slumber peacefully on the rug

Sleep, sleep my little one Sleep, sleep my little one

Sleep, sleep, sleep Slumber peacefully on the rug

Daddy has gone to work

Father has gone

He will be back when the moon rises

And bring you a gift

Daddy will return tomorrow

With the lemons he has gathered

He will bring you a skirt and scarf

To keep you warm

You are my sweetest little one

With beautiful dark hair

Whoever loves you will embrace you

And whoever not

Woe unto them!

Sleep, sleep… Sleep, sleep…

I feel like every time I see a panel of talia al ghul there’s always a veil of vague scary racism,,,, so I just wanted to show her some love

@ apex legends let me write the lore

🗡️ Her true passion, one which has been twisted and manipulated in many ways, was to save the earth rather than control or destroy it. To protect those who could not protect themselves. Innocent animals slaughtered for sport, trees cut for paper, entire habitats destroyed from human greed. Stuck behind glass walls and poked with sticks, forced to perform for the sick humans who laugh at their suffering. To preserve the lands and culture conquered. To ensure they are never stepped on again.

Her entire life she’s hated the city. The air is thick with grime and smog, the streets littered with filth. The stench of the street and the cars and the noise. The lights the people the killing. It was dreadful. To walk around a city covered head to toe with disease, knowing that it was once beautiful and wild. And yet, she still made time to go to the city anyway. To see her son, her beloved, and the rest of his kin. To make sure they are doing well.

She often imagines what her life could have been like if she had chosen Bruce all those years ago. If the children would’ve liked her more. If she could have ever been happy there. Live quietly as a house wife, perhaps assist in both of the family businesses. She wonders if she took too long to wake up. If it will ever be worth it. If there is still a chance for her in this world at all.

Billionaire yacht club! From Gotham with love ❤️⚓️   By Jessica Stevenson