#apotheotica

[dementedspeedster]

smash or pass, the wilsons. yes, the ones you know. yes, thad. i am sorry about that.

Accepting || 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃.

Thad lets out a loooooong sigh as he grips his knees, practically doubled over as he simply regrets. Regrets coming back to life, regrets working for Slade that one time, and just regrets whatever circumstances and decisions he's made in his past that have led him to

"Uuuugh." He already felt dead inside. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Slade:

"'PASS.' Look do I think the old man's kinda attractive? Yeah, fine, sure! He's a silver fox and unfortunately I'm not immune. Would I sleep with him? FUCK NO. I'm not THAT stupid." Hopefully. "Nothing could get me to sleep with Slade."

Addie ( @gunsandpatches ):

"A respectful 'pass.' Adeline's been kind to me in the past, but I don't think about her in that way. "

Grant (You! @apotheotica ):

"Get the fuck out of here, Grant. You already know what the answer is." (Smash)

Grant ( @fxllenwilson ) :

"Look." Thad sighs, "It's not that he's unattractive or anything, but we're friends. So 'pass.'" Thad has explained this so poorly and does not realize it.

Joey (Also your version):

Thad puffs out his cheeks. He does not want to answer this, but still he clicks his tongue and lets out a quiet hiss, "'Smash.' No one sprocking talk to me about this."

Rose (You):

"Rose is attractive. I'm not denying that. All of the Wilson's are, like, unfortunately so." He says before muttering out, "Seriously, what the fuck is going on with this family? This is unfair."

"But 'pass' due to a few reasons such as her connections to the Teen Titans and Bart. Though I do think it'd be more fun to befriend her than anything else. She's got a kind of attitude I like. Gives other people shit and I appreciate that."

[apolytia]

@apotheotica

HIS EYES GLOW IN THE THICK OF THE DARK MEADOW, more apparition than person. gabriel can feel her before he sees her, half-wild thing he is in the body of a man. life, to him, is like a far away light in the back of his brain, fizzling and itching, like the energy of it calls to him. it's easier to him to trust his powers than mind as it is. ever since his family saw fit to kick him out, he has been going around in a haze. the flare of life he feels is different from most, thicker, older and stronger. a threat, likely, as all else. "i feel you," his voice is rough, gravelly, like it hasn't been used in a while. "come out. state what you will."

❝ And I you, stranger. ❞

Feel? Felt. She'd trod the Material for no more than the wink of a star before she felt him in the distance; saw him glowing against the horizon like a mushroom glimmering in the sunlight.

There was fear as she gazed upon his signature from far and away. Worry that clung to her lungs, painting each breath with a hue of concern. But as she approached - ? As she stood there, on the boundary between distance and familiarity, that fear in her chest fell away.

❝ I'm Diana. ❞ It comes gently, a warm breeze carried across the darkness from the furnace of her heart. She was not his foe. There was hope in her heart that the gentle, warm smile she lit for him would speak to that. ❝ The stars are lovely tonight, don't you think? [ ... ] Would you care to share in them with me? ❞

[clawsextended]

“if I asked you to run away with me, would you? ” [ star sapphire!carol in her possessed glory asking her lady knight to come with her to zamaron-- ]

sometimes selina is merely selina. a girl in front of someone she loves with a heart absolutely full of tenderness that hurts, hurts, hurts. it’s tender like a bruise, tender in a way that leaves it black-and-blue in a way so continuous. but the shade of magenta, of pink so beloved, that she associates with carol flushes her pale skin pearlescent. her red lips slip into a smile, slow and easy, melting.

“yes. yes, i would,” pause, “with the very obvious caveat that my babygirl comes wherever i go.”

why, oh why? because romance embeds itself into the flesh and sinew of her body. because a grandiose affection softens and softens her beyond recognition. and sometimes she’s a warm, warm fuchsia, aglow with all the hues she shines right back.

“is it pretty there?”

[yoursdndispatcher]

@apotheotica asked:

alex is curious about what a dispatcher does. he isn't unused to the idea of being given orders through communication means, or how intel influences missions, but this is a bit... novel. he isn't sure if he is supposed to be peeking over robert's shoulder, either, considering he is here as a "rehab" project; a former avenger and x-affiliate turned villain, needing redemption? what a steal for optics, he knows. "so, you are the guy i take my intel from now?" he looks down, sky blues finding his new supervisor's cup of coffee, seemingly cold as he fretted over the monitor. "nice to meet you. i'm... alex. havok. both names are on my file, i think." his eyes glow a little as he picks up the cup, neon blue just like the hand around his cup as it is reheated. it's a party trick, nothing more; the slightest display of good will so he can hope, maybe, he can have a smooth sailing in this stupid rehab plan. "your cup was cold."

Robert turns in his cubicle when addressed by an unfamiliar voice and finds himself staring up at a man he recognizes from the dossier he'd been studying for the past couple of days. A square six feet tall, solidly built. The man has pale almost flaxen blond hair, and blue eyes. One Alex Summers, aka ❛Havok❜. He confirms it just a split second later with a very cordial introduction. WAAAY more cordial than Robert is used to getting from his roster of ne'er do-wells and 'fuckups' as Chase liked to put it. Robert watches as the mutants already vivid blue eyes take on an Astral Pulse-like glow with his coffee mug in hand. A second later, the mug is given back, steaming hot like he'd just poured it.

Well, then... That's one way to make an impression for one's first day at work. He's almost tempted to address the whole team about it. See, Phoenixes? That's what manners sound like. But he knows how its gonna go. The whole of Z-team will roll their eyes, spout obscenities and make the new guy their punching bag all day long.

❝The one and only,❞ he says, extending his hand. ❝Robert Robertson. Nice to meet you, Alex.❞ He inputs some keys and the blank space on the screen displaying his roster materializes at the bottom of a live map of Torrance, including weather statistics. The last team member image is blank until the dossier uploads and Alex's picture appears next to everyone else's. He hands Alex an earpiece to wear when the shift starts, a small, elegant device that can recieve and transmit sound live to the computer he's currently using. ❝It's advised that you wear that at all times or at least keep it near. It can transmit live to SDN and track your whereabouts. It'll also notify you if there's an emergency.❞ He had made a mental note of the last time Los Angeles was attacked, and half the heroes on call at this division were late to calls for assistance because they were asleep and hadn't heard the alerts from their devices. ❝Okay everyone... Welcome our new recruit, ❛Havok❜,❞ Robert's low voice droned over the comms. ❝He's new to the job and the area, so I'll need you all to sit tight while I get him set up, okay?❞ Robert, for all his professionalism bears the tone of a long-weary and beleaguered parent talking down to a group of five year olds. The five year olds in question erupt in a slew of curses and whiny complaints as Robert shuts off the audio. He takes one hasty sip of his refreshed coffee- sadly all the attention he can spare it at the moment, and rises. ❝Come on. I'll show you where the basics are and the hero pool where our people come and go.❞

[yoakkemae-archived]

"you act like all you are is a weapon -- you push everyone away so that you end up alone." it's almost funny how bruce does the same, how dick even, at times, does the same. but bruce has clark, diana, and dick to pull him back, and dick has the titans. who did jason have, really?

@apotheotica // weapon - against the current.

[legion-transcendent]

@apotheotica liked [+] for a starter with Scott.

   He’s being followed. David noticed a while ago. And no, this isn’t his paranoia talking. This is a real thing and honestly it is getting extremely annoying. Can’t an impossibly powerful guy just go about his business without having his father’s protégé on his ass? Sure, his business currently involves casing the same corporate high rise he’s been visiting twice a week for the last month, but whose to say this isn’t an entirely legitimate thing? It’s not like his father’s goons have a right to know what he’s doing anyway.

   With a deep sigh, David changes course. He turns a corner, stepping into an alley that leads to a tucked away car park. The moment he is out of view of his tail David vanishes, but he doesn’t teleport far. He just appears right behind Scott Summers, his arms crossed and leaning against a wall.

   “Y’ know,” he starts, looking over his sunglasses at the older man. “You’re not great at this incognito thing. It’s the glasses. Makes y’ a wee bit noticeable. Also, I picked up on y’ mind an hour ago.” A pause, followed by a glare. “What the fuck do y’ want, Scott?”

[morinotsume]

📒📒📒

Logan is an ass man. Gender ain't even a factor. He sees a nice butt, he likes the nice butt.

Logan is known to be all soft and thoughtful with his daughters (laura, gabby, any of the adoptees) but he absolutely ragebaits the sons. Quentin's getting bullied about his diet. Valentin's getting harangued about his attitude (and this thing with Idie??). He'd be tougher on Akihiro but that relationship is still weirdly fragile.

To this day, if Logan goes on the road, he leaves his dogtags with someone important. One with Jubilee, the other floats around based on who needs him.

[nctmnstr]

@apotheotica

There was something so...homey about Deathstroke. He never understood it himself, the attraction to the merc. Something visceral, something deep in his chest that longed to be in his company. Some would call it crazy, himself included. He tried not to act on these urges, but something always brought them together again and again.

Clothes torn to shreds, from both his own rage and the bullets penetrating his hide, he stood above Deathstroke. Their enemies lay dead, and Croc was surprisingly bleeding out slowly from the wounds in his back.

"tha's....28." He was keeping count of his kills.