#Green Assassin Dollar

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[mazamba]

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Ironically, the most eventful day in the careers of Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had nothing to do with ghosts. The two had just returned from the supermarket and were carrying in the groceries, when the shadow in the corner began to speak.

"We need to talk."

"GHOST!"

The couple were on their back before they could draw their weapons.

"You are the foremost experts in the field of ecto-biology," said Batman as if he hadn't just brought down a three hundred pound man and a ninth-degree black-belt before either of them could realize he'd moved, "I have questions regarding your sponsor."

"Sweetie, is the Batman in our living room?" asked Jack.

"I do believe he is," replied Maddie as she stood up and patted the dust off her clothes, "you know, you could have called for an appointment. We'd have made time."

"In the 80's, the two of you had your doctorate studies rescinded due to your studies in what you called "ecto-science"," he stated, ignoring their indignation, "yet you now live in an upper-middle class neighborhood and spend thousands of dollars a year on technology that didn't have a proper proof-of-concept until recently."

"What's your point?" asked Jack.

"Where is the money coming from?"

"If you must know, we have a sponsor," replied Maddie, "after our dean proved to be too small-minded for our research, we were approached by a man who was more open to the possibility of inter-dimensional research."

"He wanted us to study ghosts!" cut in Jack, "He even gave us our very first sample of ectoplasm!"

"That one sample was the backbone of our research for years, until we got our portal running."

"You never asked where he got that sample from?"

"He seemed like a trust-worthy fellow," dismissed Maddie, "all he asks is for copies of our experiments and for ectoplasm from our portal."

"What sort of experiments?"

"Well, at first we needed to verify the psycho-active behavior of the sample," recalled Maddie, "if you give me a second, I have my research around here somewhere."

"You took the sample to several morgues," Batman told them, "the sample's most drastic and extreme behavior occurred when it was placed close to bodies who had a history of violent and anti-social behavior in life."

"Maddie, the League's reading our papers!" Jack giggled excitedly, "But yes, it's how we know that all ghosts are evil ectoplasmic scum!"

"You never questioned the origin of the sample?"

"It was the only sample we had," pointed out Maddie, "but it's properties matched all of our theories."

"The man you spoke with was Ra's al Ghul," he informed them, dropping a folder full of pictures and documents for them to peruse, "thousands of years ago, Ra's found a well of green water that is now known as a Lazarus Pit. Using its power, he has rejuvenated himself time and again to maintain his position as the head of the League of Assassins. After some experimentation, he found the same pits could keep his forces alive, even in death.

"Over time, the League came across a problem that threatened their continued existence. They were consuming the Pit's water faster than it was replenishing itself. After much experimentation, they found a solution. At the moment of death, when the human soul passes over to the Infinite Realms, what you call the Ghost Zone, a small amount of ectoplasm leaks over to our side."

"Wait, you don't mean...?" Maddie trailed off, horror settling in.

"Ra's killed people en masse to replenish his pool," affirmed Batman, "further experimentation revealed that people who died in a state of extreme fear or pain provided more ferocious soldiers. That is where your sample came from.

"In it's neutral state, ectoplasm reacts equally to all emotional ranges. Repeated exposure to emotional extremes will imprint the ectoplasm, causing it to react more strongly to a specific emotional range than to others. The negative emotions of Ra's victims imprinted on the ectoplasm, resulting in your skewed results."

"Wait, how would you know that?" demanded Maddie, "We're the foremost experts on ecto-science and we didn't know that!"

He pulled out a thick folder and slammed it onto the table.

"I had my research peer-reviewed."

"By who?" asked Jack, "We looked all over and couldn't find anyone in the scientific community!"

"You weren't looking in the right place. There is a branch of the Justice League that specializes in the supernatural, ghosts and demons chief among them. They want me to bring you in."

"Really!? Did you hear that Mads! We're being recruited by the Justice League!"

"They want me to arrest you," Batman corrected them, "for illegal poaching of innocent and neutral spirits, particularly after last week's attack on their newest member, Danny Phantom."

"The Ghost Boy!?" roared Jack, "That no-good ectoscum made the League before we did!?"

"I have watched his fights. He takes care to avoid collateral damage and only appears when other ghosts attack, sometimes at great personal cost."

"Look, Mr. Batman," sighed Maddie in a condescending tone, "we've fought the ghost boy for years. He has a history of crime and violence. If you look far enough, you'll find-."

Batman had no time for nonsense.

"The League has already looked into the incidents. All show indications of either coercion or mind control."

"Ghosts are deceitful and conniving-!"

"We have already established that your initial sample skewed your results," he cut Jack off, "this would imply that all of your research and experiments need to be reassessed, including your opinions towards ghosts in general.

"Regarding Ra's al Ghul, you will need to continue working with him. Cutting contact suddenly may put you and your family in danger."

That caught their attention.

"What do we need to do?" asked Jack, all jokes and outrage immediately tossed out the window.

"Keep doing your research with this new information in mind. Your experiments have been applied to the Lazarus Pits, resulting in unstable results. Recent subjects have come out in a mindless rage, while others have shown no effect on their mind, and yet others have had no effect. Ra's is already skeptical of your continued collaboration. If you provide him with research based off this new information, he may decide you are not worth his time or money. When it comes to Ra's, your best option is dismissal to irrelevance. You do not want to make an enemy out of him."

"It's not just that," admitted Maddie, "if we were the only ones being affected, we'd simply let him know we're exploring new horizons outside of ecto-science. The thing is, we have two children, one in college and one near graduation."

He gave them a card. "Call that number. All of their college expenses will be taken care of."

"I... Bruce Wayne?" read out Jack.

"We've collaborated before, he is trustworthy," he reassured them, "the next part is up to you. Will you be scientists, or poachers?"

Their lights flickered, and he was gone.

[simpingforheros]

Safe

Pairing: Gotham Knights! Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Being a mercenary isn’t easy. Being a lab experiment turned mercenary isn’t easy either. Being a Bio-engineered mercenary in Gotham city with a reformed Red Hood isn’t easy at all.

Warnings: Hurt Comfort, Angst with bittersweet ending, Enemies to Friends??, Female Pronouns, Mild Violence, Horrible Fight Scenes (I’m sorry), Reader is basically Black Cat but little different, implied OOC! Amanda Waller, Mentions of Death, Torture, PTSD, and Panic Attacks.

Author’s Note: I guess I’ll give y’all a break from my Toxic! Jason agenda. But I’m not giving y’all a break from calling y’all out on being slanderous to my underrated, unproblematic princess that is GK! Jason. He may not be as pretty as the other ones, but he got a better relationship with his family than y’all have with y’all’s daddies (jk I’m sorry). Also yes, the reader is Black Cat coded because I love her and I want to see Jason with a cool feline counterpart of his own.

+++++++++++++++++++

.

.

.

Fuck. FUCK!

Chanted through her mind as she realizes what the hell she has just done. This whole assignment was a set up from the moment that job listing hit her burner phone. Her clawed gloves raked through her hair as she desperately took in her situation.

Months after the death of Batman, criminals became bolder with their crimes despite the lurking remains of Batman’s legacy. New villains and mercenaries came in to either assist Gotham’s veteran rogues or building their own empires among the shadows of the bigger evil’s crimes. However, Y/N didn’t fall into either category.

Originally a lab rat for Amanda Waller to find a cure for her terminal cancer, the cat like mercenary became a quick popular option among gang leaders and the low life to hire to do quick jobs without minimum risk. Of course the cat like persona wasn’t due to her stealth…

A blast rings out of the previously locked door as the girl’s head snaps back. Her body collapses as the roar of victorious laughter fills the air.

“You see how that bitch’s head just snapped back like a twig?!” Victor Sionas laughed through his leather mask as his golden firearm flashed in the fluorescent light of the value.

It was supposed to be a quick heist, minimum risk on her end. Just grab a hard drive with 6.8 Billion dollars worth of stolen and encrypted medical documents and financial records and leave before Black Mask realized she was there. An easy heist for a fair reward.

Victor’s ranting and raving filled the safe in loud echos as his assistant tries to listen to her pager for their normal disposal team. As the crimson slowly sets into the concrete, a faint green glow began to form around her body. The harsh grit releases her life force as it recedes back into her skull.

Amanda Waller wasn’t normally a desperate woman, but when it came to her life, she didn’t care what criminal she had to deal with to get her life back. Even the League of Assassins…

As the pair was about to leave to attend a meeting of some kind, Y/N didn’t know or care to know as her ears ring back into tune. Her body jolts up as she springs back to life in an instant.

As her eyes meet Sionas’ shocked stare, her lips curled into a wicked smirk. Her E/C eyes shined with a new madness as she flexes her adamantium tipped claws, ready to rip out his throat.

Victor quickly raises his gun ready to shoot again as she swipes at his wrist. The appendage falling to the floor as his screams drowned out the echos of his false victories.

“I guess it was an easy job.” She comments before her claws strike again.

Maybe she should ask for a raise to make up for her dry cleaning?

+++++++++++++++

The crime scene was a bloodbath.

Police scrambled and crawled the building as lights and tape marked the massacre. Every surface, furniture, rug, and plant were all tagged, sprayed, and searched for any bodily matter that could lead you to the person behind this horrific crime.

Black Mask’s gang. A once prominent gang in Gotham city who survived fights between Batman and The Red Hood were all dead. Eviscerated. Slaughtered.

All of the dead were clinging onto weapons as either distinct claw marks either craved them to ribbons or they were killed by their own weapons. Whoever did it clearly attacked the ones who attacked first.

The only survivors were the ones who didn’t attempt to fight the assailant. Victor’s assistant was the only one that was harmed among them with a deep set of scratches on her face with a look of horror in her eyes.

A look Nightwing and Red Hood didn’t like to see even from a criminal.

“And you said you didn’t know why this happened?” Nightwing asks skeptical of the woman’s reliability.

The woman eagerly nods as she sputters out, “We caught her in the safe and Sionas wanted to teach her a lesson…we heard her reputation was only with stealing…not this…”

Jason growls as he grew inpatient with her stuttering, but he takes a deep breath. ‘Be Patient…’ He reminds himself before something made his ears perk up.

“It was like magic or something! Sionas shot her point blank in the head and she just came back to life in an instant!! That’s when she went crazy! We just wanted to get her back for stealing from our off shore accounts. We didn’t know that she was a…monster.”

Fuck.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fire. Fire is what it felt like. It crawls from the deepest part of her mind and spreads through her veins like a fever. Her vision tunneled in as memories of all her previous deaths haunting her brain surged forward as her body acted on instinct. Out of fear…

It took three days before the madness faded this time. That was probably the longest time she was trapped in that state since she escaped Waller. Those three days were a fog as she only remembered the splitting head ache from the gun shot and her costume covered in blood.

Once the new broke on a ‘maniac’ who killed the Black Mask’s gang, Y/N knew she couldn’t leave Gotham yet until the buzz died down. She already knew the Bat’s sidekicks were looking for her, so she used whatever cash she had left to hide out in a cheap motel room.

“Fuck….” She groans as her trembling hands dropped her cell phone. Her eyes tried to dart around the aisles of the gas station she was currently hunting for food in. The remaining madness caused her senses to be on high alert and her anxiety to be high.

If she was back home, she could hideout in her apartment with her cat for a month before finding another job listing, but she was trapped in Gotham in a ratty motel.

So venturing to the crummy gas station for some junk food and beer is the next best thing. At least the disinterested cashier doesn’t pay her any mind. 4am on a weekday with a case of beer probably made her just appear to be a normal tweaker.

(Y/N) adjusts her sunglasses and makes sure her silver hair was well hidden under her zip-up’s hood before she brings her items to the counter. The zit faced teen gives her a look over, not hiding the attention he gave to her exposed cleave from the tank top she had showing.

“Ma’am, we don’t allow sunglasses inside the store.” He creaks out. Her (E/C) roll as she takes her sun glasses off. The door chimes as someone enters the store, but her attention was focused on the cashier. When he finally scanned her beer, his cracking voice asks,

“Do you have ID, Ma’am?”

Her hands go to her sweatpants pocket and only feels the cash she brought. Her mental anguish grows as she sighs in annoyance. Her fake id was in motel, and she technically doesn’t exist so she never had a real id.

Deciding to turn up the charm, she smiles sweetly at the teenager as she says, “I’m sorry, but I left my id back at my place. I’m sure you can tell I’m old enough, right?”

Her cleavage seemed to not work its charm as the teen rudely says,

“I can tell you’re old by your hair lady. But I need ID.”

Her eyes widen as a faint glow of green shows as she snaps at him. “I’m not old! I’m 24, you little p-!”

She stops herself as she takes a deep breath as she feels the madness subsided. She really didn’t wanna kill a kid over some cheap beer.

“Fine…I had a bad day so just get me the snacks.” She admits in defeat as she pulls out a hundred bucks. Just as she was going to pay, a hand drops some beef jerky and a case of beer on the counter beside her items. A deep voice cuts the air and causes a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“Add her stuff and beer to my order.” A thick, veiny hand presents the cashier with his ID and a credit card as she turns her head to see who it was that saved her evening.

Before her was a man who stood well over 6 feet tall. His shoulders were as broad as an old oak tree with muscles strong enough to take one down. His face wasn’t particularly the normal standard for attractiveness, but the strong jaw and scar gave him a handsome roughness that made her stomach tighten. It didn’t help that his nearly buzzed hair gave him a military sense, but his eyes were what made her heart stop in her chest. The beautiful green eyes that glowed an unearthly hue that she was familiar with.

She sees it in her eyes everyday. The scar of the Lazarus pit.

(Y/N) almost forgot where she was before the cashier cleared his throat. Her focus returned back to the counter as she grabs her stuff. Before she could run off, something made her stop to wait for the man. Whether it was curiosity or stupidity, she didn’t know.

Maybe she wanted to see what his deal was? Was he with Waller? The League of Assassins? Can he tell she was from the pit too? How different were they? How many times did he die and come back?

The opportunity to speak with someone who may can relate to her outweighed her wariness from her situation. But it was curiosity that killed the cat, right?

As the man starts heading for the door, she follows as she says,

“Excuse me?”

His eyes meet hers as a small smile as he says,

“Hey, I’m sorry for stepping in over there. I understand when stuff isn’t going your way.”

A warmth takes over her face as she says shyly, “No, it’s fine I just wanted to thank you. That was really sweet of you…”

As the two walk out, the stranger's friendly demeanor drops a little as he mumbles into the empty night air.

"So, you're the one who killed Victor Sionas..."

Her breath releases as she hears the pin drop. Her eyes dart around the parking lot as she sees the only vehicle is a old school motorcycle. She doesn't have any weapons and she wasn't sure if how skilled he was or if he had gained powers just like her from the pit.

With a frown, (Y/N) gruffs out, "Yeah...what are you gonna let me enjoy my last beer before you turn me in?"

She looks up to the man as their eyes meet. His eyes studying her as she keeps a tight grip on her bag. Maybe if he charges at her, she can swing the bag to his head and throw him off...

"No." He answers simply as he heads towards his bike. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she sputters out.

"No? I just admitted to murder and you're letting me go??"

"Yep." He answers over his shoulder as he loads his things into the compartment under his seat. Irritation fills her being instead of the relief she should have felt. She stomps towards him as she fusses,

"What's your deal? You buy me a beer and casually ask me if I commit murder? And you're gonna just leave? Did the pit mess you up that bad??" She snaps at him as she stands face to face, face to chest with him. Her eyes glowed eerily as he was filled, and a familiar shiver went down his spine.

His hands clap onto her shoulders as he pulls her close to him. A wave of coldness filled her body as the eerie glow covered his hands. The familiar feeling of the Lazarus pit filled her as he leaned into a whisper.

"The only reason I'm not hauling your pretty ass to Arkham right now is because I understand that it wasn't you when you killed them, Kitty..." His eyes glowed momentarily as a sad look briefly flashed into those green pools. "A petty mercenary who had no history of mass murder on file doesn't just jump to it without warning. The Lazarus Pit fucks up people to their core, so trust me when I say that I understand better than anyone how you feel..."

'Understand? How can he understand?' Her mind unravels as she looks up at him in disbelief. Has he ever woke up afraid of what he might have done the night before? Worry about when someone would come and shoot him in the head or stab him just to see if he could come back without being submerged anymore? Did Waller use him to heal her at the expense of his own pain just to throw him away to fend for himself???

Rage flashes through her as she roughly pulls away from him. Her bag falls to the asphalt as glass shatters. Her eyes are wild as old memories filled her. "Don't you dare say you understand me? You don't know shit about what I had to go through?"

His eyebrows frown together as he grimaces. A look of recognition and guilt flashes before he says to her. "You're right. I don't know what you went through before you died, but I do understand how you're feeling. The anxiety, the rage, the blood lust...I wanna help you."

She laughs bitterly as she figures out something about him. He only died once and was brought back. The skunk stripe in his hair should have given it away when she realized he was similar to her.

"Which time?" (Y/N) asked as she turned around and walked away. "I've died plenty of times to know that you will never understand..."

And she leaves the man alone in the parking lot as she storms off to her motel, not caring if he sees where she went or not. Her heart was beating out of control as she felt the wavering thoughts of going back to him and either hitting him or hugging him.

‘Maybe I need to rest some more….’

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Silence filled the museum as the dust bunnies and art laid undisturbed during their rest from the public eye. Her footsteps were a minimum as she walked through the shadowy parts of the building, trying to find what she was sent to retrieve.

After another week of hiding out, a job was directly pinged for her on the job board. Her eyes squinted at it at first because the offer was a little bogus to her.

‘Steal a painting, retrieve the hard drive inside, and bring it to the disclosed location in exchange for 2 Million dollars in unmarked bills.’

2 Million for a petty thief job that would have more suited Catwoman instead her seemed pretty unusual. But, at this point, her phyiscal cash funds were running low and she still was afraid of using her offshore accounts now that she knows that some zombie like her knew who she was.

Her masked eyes scanned the building’s plaza until she found what she was looking for. A large flowery portrait hanging just beyond the fountain. Her head tilts as she looks at it from afar.

‘Pretty… I wonder if I can find a print of it to buy to hang in my living room…’ Her steps remaining slow and cautious until she reaches the fountain. She looks under where the painting hung, trying not to get too close to it. There was no tag or podium that held the artist’s name or any indication that it was an actual art piece. It was most likely some print from a furniture store catalog or Etsy.

Her eyes rolled as she realizes that the listing was another trap. Obviously from someone who didn’t know shit about art or how to buy mercenaries on the black market.

As if on que, her ears buzzed as she heard the pure instinct take over as she whips around. Her hand immediately stops the staff about to hit her in the face as she elbows the smaller opponent in the stomach before slamming her fist in his cheek to knock him back. The guy gets thrown back a couple of feet as he gasped for the air she punches outta him.

She looks to the guy as she twirls his staff absent mindedly in her hand. His costume and smaller physique gave it away as to who he was. She remembers seeing a tv show story about him the previous night on the news. The boy wonder, Robin. At least the third version of him.

“Hey, tweety bird. You good?” She asked in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes unamused as she watches the kid cough up a lung as he looked up at her in shock that she wasn’t attacking him like he expected her to.

“You know, it’s dangerous to be on job listing boards like that.” She scolds him lightly as she walks around him and grabs his arm, gently helping him up and sitting him by the fountain. “There’s actual killers on that board who would have happily tried cutting you up for pulling a shitty fake job like this.”

The sidekick glares at her as he was already confused as he just witness the girl he was sure killed an entire gang just casually scold him. “Like how you did with Black Mask?”

Her eyes flashed with guilt before the nonchalant personality appeared again as she focused on throwing the staff up to make it spin. “It was self defense. He and his gang had it coming for all the child drug peddling and the lives he ruined.”

A heavier drop down of three other figures caught her attention as she looks around. Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood were surrounding the fountain, blocking her in. Her anxiety rising as she hides it with a now playful smile.

“Damn, didn’t realize little old me warranted for the whole family to come get me.” She says playfully. “Don’t worry I promise to be out of y’all’s city soon.”

“You still have to pay for your crimes.” Batgirl says as she steps forwards slightly. The feline mercenary tilts her head as she looks at them with now false concern.

“Me? A defenseless street cat?” She asked before laughing. “You can certainly try.”

Nightwing steps closer as her shoulders square up. Her defensive stance rising as she observes him. Way too lean to be the guy she met, and she can tell his face was more pretty boy looking.

“We wanna help you… but you still have to pay for what you’ve done even if you didn’t mean to.” He says softly.

‘So they know…that just means they are gonna be more defensive instead of offensive. They can’t risk killing me when they know I could rampage again.’ Her eyes shine as she laughs coldly at him.

“Oh, you wanna help me rot in prison?” She says as she finally looks at the Red Hood.

Right build, right height, and she’s sure if she can knock that helmet off, right face. That’s the man she met a week ago that affected her so badly. She knew she couldn’t let him get a good grab on her or she maybe toast.

She turns her now glowing eyes back to Nightwing as she smirks. “I think you would be better off letting me leave or else you can see what I actually do when I mean it.” She bluffs.

Movement nearly catches her off guard as Robin tries to rush her again. The staff in her hand flies into his face as she tries to move as Batgirl flies kicks her in the face. Her ears ring as the warm feeling of blood starts to run out of her nose. The cat catches the bat’s fist before she whips her in the face with another punch. She used the disorienting blow to slide under her legs and give a good kick to her knee. The distinctive pop and her cry lets her know she did dislocate the bone.

She remains in her crouched up position, ready to pounce. She can feel their eyes observing as her broken nose begins to heal as it disgustingly pops back into place as the blood retreats back to its original place like it was on rewind. Her wild eyes looks to them and makes notes of their stances.

Nightwing was ready to pounce on her. He stared at her like she was the wild animal that he knew she was. It was a look she was used to.

The Red Hood wasn’t even in an offensive or defensive position. He stood with his back straight as he watches her. Damn his stupid helmet from seeing his eyes, she wanted to know what he was thinking about. Was he bluffing too or was he trying to get a good feel on how to catch her.

Before Nightwing can start advancing on her, Red stops him with a step forward and raises hand. Nightwing looks confused as he asked him.

“What are you doing?” He seethes to him. “We gotta take her down, she already hurt Robin and Batgirl.”

“Out of self defense.” The Red Hood clarifies before chuckling. His modulated voice making the feline theft frown. “If she was dangerous like you think, she could have sliced Robin’s throat with those claws of hers when he first attacked. You guys were attacking first and she responded with non lethal force.”

Her eyes glared at the man as she stands up, slightly agitated. “So? Maybe I just don’t wanna kill a kid?”

Red tilts his head as he turns his attention to her. “Calm down, Kitty….if you surrender, I promise I won’t let them send you off to the pound.”

Nightwing looks at Red in horror as he basically promised to protect a wanted criminal. He didn’t seem to concerned by it. He even surprises his team by removing his helmet as he looks to the one they were chasing.

“I found your file on Amanda Waller’s network. Took me three days, but I know what she did to you, (Y/N).” The man she knew from the gas station.

The images of all the torture she endured flashed through her mind all at once as she remembers all Waller put her through for the sake of her cure.

Multiple executions to test the powers of the pit. Torture and savage punishments for the slightest disobedience. The nightmares and madness that fueled so many panic attacks. The feeling of her organs stolen to be put in that evil woman so she can use her healing factor to win against cancer while she spent days slowly dying and coming back to life over and over until her new organs regenerated back into her.

“Why?!” She snaps at him as rage filled her again. Her confusion over his insistence to help her made her so angry. Why would he wanna help her? Just because they were both dunked in a pool of Ra’s bath water?

“You’re the feared Red Hood! You’ve done worst shit than I’ve ever done and you are trying to act as my savior?!” She yells at him as she stomps towards him.

Nightwing tries to step between them, but Red keeps him away as she finally stood before him. Her hand rips off her goggles, revealing her face to him as she pokes into his chest. Her own chest tightening as her body shook. Her breath was tight as angry tears rolled down her face.

“Answer me, dammit! Why do you think you can save me?!”

“I don’t think I can save you.” He answers honestly. “I wanna help you save yourself…”

A look of grief passes over his eyes as he looks at the shorter woman. A memory of someone she didn’t know making his resolve strengthen.

“I was trapped in a state of anger for so long that I pushed everyone away that was trying to help me…it wasn’t until I lost the one person that tried to save me that I realized how much it meant to have someone just hold a hand out for me…” He says as he grips her shoulders. The expected coldness didn’t meet her. She felt him. The warmth seeping through his gloves into her suit. It felt…comforting….nice.

Her vision began tunneling as she felt her chest hyperventilating as she cries. His gentle words finally breaking her as he mumbles to her. “Let me help you fight the madness so you won’t be alone anymore…”

Her knees buckling as a sob broke through her. The warmth of his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest made her cries so gut wrenching. Robin, Batgirl, and Nightwing watch in shock as they watched Jason, not only be the most gentle he’s ever been with someone, but see a stray tear fall from him eye.

As the two remained tied together as an unspoken bond was formed. A bond between two lost souls forcibly brought back into this world now feeling safe in each other’s warmth.

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Author’s Note: I’m gonna make a part 2 to this one because I actually like it. Let me know if you like this, if you hate it, or whatever. I’m trying to clear out my drafts so expect more Jason and other characters coming out either this week or next week.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY FANFICS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

[terapsina]

Now that the writers and actors strike is about to begin being felt (and as we wait for those greedy billion dollar companies who are refusing to negotiate fair pay and conditions to give up) here's 10 of my favorite (all around best) fully finished older series you should definitely check out if you haven't watched.

I mean it, these are the shows with continuously great writing and a satisfying endings that manage to actually deliver on their promises.

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1. Leverage - (containing 5 seasons, or 77 episodes) - trailer here.

Hitter, Hacker, Grifter, Thief and Mastermind. Heists and cons. Stealing from the rich and giving to their victims. They provide... leverage.

Meant for anyone who enjoys bad guys being the best good guys, who will burn down the lives of evil CEOs and then gloat in the background. Very satisfying.

Hands down the best example of a found family trope I've ever seen on screen. Barring none.

2. Killjoys - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Space Bounty Hunters. Another case of found family trope. Bisexual space princess assassin. Quippy sentient ship. Green alien goo. Evil lesbians (but like... in a good way). The warrant is all.

More seriously though, it's a story about three killjoys and the bounties they go after. Initially. And then they have to save the entire Quad from some very terrifying... stuff.

Contains one of the best friendships I've ever seen on television.

3. Orphan Black - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Found family trope but with clones.

Low level grifter sees a woman who looks exactly like her kill herself and plans to take over her identity long enough to cash out. Except then there's two other women who also look exactly like her. And apparently they're all clones and someone's killing them.

Enter a global conspiracy. Human experimentation. Lots of clone shenanigans. Some serial killings. And a few murders 💖.

4. Person of Interest - (containing 5 seasons, or 103 episodes) - trailer here.

Okay I'm beginning to see how I might have a found family trope issue.

Former CIA agent gets recruited by a reclusive billionaire computer programmer who developed a... machine that can predict acts of terror before they happen. But it also predicts 'irrelevant' acts of violence that will result in someone's death.

Unless someone interferes.

I'd really like to spoil some stuff to get you all to watch this one. But I'm going to maintain self control and just mention that early on they get a dog named Bear. Bear is a very good boy. Watch it for Bear.

Also for excellent commentary on rights of privacy, government surveillance and what does 'greater good' even mean? But mostly Bear.

5. 12 Monkeys - (containing 4 seasons, or 47 episodes) - trailer here.

The very best time travel show out there. What starts out as a confusing mess of causality basically exploding, by the end of the series all makes complete and total sense.

(when that final timey-whimey loop slid into place and revealed the entire pattern it was like a choir of angels started singing in the back of my head. It was freaking glorious).

Anyway, a man from a post apocalyptic future travels into the past to stop a plague from decimating nearly the entire world population.

He has the name of the man who released the virus and it's supposed to be a single trip. One trip. One bullet. Simple. Done.

Except then things keep escalating, and escalating until time begins eating its own tail and it might start looking like the end of the world might be a better ending than erasing all of time and space from reality.

Because when our guys screw it up, they screw it up GOOD.

And oh yeah... found family.

6. The Good Place - (containing 4 seasons, or 53 episodes) - trailer here.

A self-proclaimed Arizona dirtbag opens her eyes and finds out that she's dead and got accepted in the Good Place. Except that as soon as she arrives the Good Place starts glitching, and she really, REALLY needs to become a better person before she can be found out and kicked out to the Bad Place.

Luckily her assigned soulmate was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy.

One of the funniest, most thoughtful and clever comedies I've ever watched. Ever. The characters are delightful and by the time the final minute rolled around I had sobbed my heart out multiple times (which, as we all know, is a sign of the very best comedies out there).

As for the question of whether or not this too contains Found Fami- Yes! Obviously, yes.

7. Avatar: the Last Airbender - (containing 3 seasons, or 61 episodes) - intro here (couldn't locate the trailer but it's basically the same thing in this case).

The four nations lived in harmony. Until the Fire Nation attacked.

It's been a hundred years since the beginning of the war when two kids from the Southern Water Tribe find a boy frozen in ice and wake him up. A boy who's able to bend all four elements... though not very well.

Enter multi-nation flying road trip (thank you Appa, we love you most of all) as they try to find teachers for the Avatar and save the world.

Includes found family (shut up), amazing fight scenes, the most heartfelt and vivid characters ever, and the best example of a redemption arc actually done well.

8. Love Between Fairy and Devil - (containing 1 season, or 36 episodes) - trailer here.

This one gutted me. I'm saying this as a compliment. But it had to be said. Completely destroyed me. I just haven't been the same.

A love story between an Orchid Fairy and the leader of the Moon Tribe that starts out with her accidentally releasing him from millennia long imprisonment and then takes you through the caleidoscope of all possible human emotions (it's a body-swap comedy through the first part, then a romcom, then a dramatic romantic tale, and finally a tragic love story).

But it's such a satisfying slow burn.

And it carries this... humanity through the whole thing that makes it so visceral.

If you're a romantic who's very tired of instalove and characters dropping all their morals because 'ooh, attractive person' then you've got to watch this. Because this story does NOT take the easy road there.

(my more extensive rec for this series can be found here)

9. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - (containing 7 seasons, or 133 episodes) - fanmade trailer here (it was better than any of the official ones).

This series did so much. Introduced Ahsoka Tano, and made us love her. Gave names and faces and souls to the Clone Troopers (okay, it's the same face but you know what I mean), to a point where their endings during Order 66 destroyed me just as much as the ending of the Jedi Order. And somehow made me both love Anakin AND be a million times more angry with him.

There are some arcs in this series that might be a bit weaker. But there were some... god, there's a reason I love Clone Wars more than any other series or trilogy in this universe. And I'm not even a little ashamed to say it.

Must watch for Disaster Lineage shenanigans; for the vod'e; AND for the Jedi (who did their best okay? They always did their best 😭💔).

(and on the subject of found family... do I even need to comment)

10. Nikita - (containing 4 seasons, or 73 episodes) - trailer here.

A rogue assassin that escaped Division - covert government agency that takes recruits out of prison, fakes their deaths and then forces them to become spies and assassins - has come back to take it down. Brick by brick if she has to. With guns and explosives too when that works better.

Contains soooo many cool fight scenes. Is full of incredible characters you'll fall in love with (and hate with) very quickly. And most of all has an incredibly complex relationship of mentorship and friendship between two women that holds both great admiration and betrayal, real care and love as well as rage and hatred, forgiveness, mutual respect and an unbreakable kind of bond that so very rarely involves even one female character on TV, let alone two.

(as usual, found family tropes up the wazzoo).

-----

In conclusion. We all know there's going to be a large space between seasons of our favorite shows now (and some shows that aren't going to survive it). Let's fill that space with some excellent TV we haven't had a chance to see yet.

And direct the blame for the wait towards the right place (i.e. the studios).

[deliverusfromevillll]

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader]

❝ What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? ❞

warnings ⨾ blood, descriptions of gore, guns, gunshot wound, choking, swearing, arachnophobia (the irony), established prior connection, soft mammon, sexual content, unresolved sexual tension, resolved angst

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon." ❝ Bogan ❞ Australian slang meaning (in negative connotation) someone who's a bit of a nerd or geek, holds no dress sense and/or has poor social skills.

notes  ⨾ I am very much not Australian so when I looked up slang and could not find ANY concrete definitions for anything: I was in major pain. Anyways quick thing because [F/n]'s lore might seem confusing. I created an entirely different race of "humanoid" dragons that acted as the knight/official guards for the Ars Goetia incase of extermination/assassination attempts. [F/n] retired from her position as knight for an unnamed Goetia. This entire chapter was originally 13K words but I felt as though the plot arc with the Goetia drifted way too far from the original point of this fic since it was so, so needlessly lore heavy for a reader insert and made this 100x more angsty like you have no idea. Especially since this is only meant to be two chapters. This chapter was cut down for your reading pleasure! If you would like to be part of the process in between me brainstorming and posting ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[02]

As always minors DNI.| 6.3K words

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is unique.

He was her boss, and she was his secretary.

Running the errands, info graphing, and scheduling his business appointments when due. But it wasn't so simple.

With his artificially friendly attitude in public, behind the scenes he was nothing but cynical— snarky and demanding. Hardly surprising for the king of greed.

[F/n] was no fan, she made it clear.

Despite the lethal glares and threats she managed to shoot a quip or a snark in return each time. It initially prompted a warning hiss or a growl, an insult or a threat.

Then he resorted to shredding through his confined costume to intimidate her one time after they both seriously got into it. Neither party was satisfied in not having the last word.

Despite however many threats were hurled nothing ever came about them.

[F/n] desired the experience the job gave her and Mammon found her too entertaining to simply let go.

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is undeniably unique.

But damn, there was no shying away from the fact [F/n] did her job exceptionally well. The best in all of Hell. And that's another one of the handful of reasons why he tolerated her.

"Y'er getting on my nerves lizard." Mammon seethes with a false smile.

He sulks leaning away, poisonous puff of green air seeping though his teeth.

[F/n] raises a brow at him, eye roll following. "I need you to work with me here, asshole." [F/n] adjusted herself, turning towards him.

"If you wanna reduce the immediate damage Asmodeus and his little lapdog made we need to start advertising the twins asap. What's bothering you right now?"

Mammon huffed. "The leftover Fizz merch— sales are declining incase ya' haven't seen mate. I'm losin' money."

[F/n] clicked her tongue.

"Whatever doesn't sell now we can resell in a few weeks as vintage or some other bullshit with a higher price tag. You have any idea how much these loser collectors will pay to get their hands on discontinued merchandise?"

That's all it took for Mammon to light up, snatching [F/n] with his top hands in excitement.

"Y'er a bloody GENIOUS!" He shakes her, dropping her instantaneously. "We could double —no— TRIPLE our profits thanks to these degenerates! Ahh I taught ya' so bloody well!"

Mammon splays his hands towards the imaginary dollar signs in the air, clapping eagerly.

"And that's why I love ya' doll!" He shouts with a hefty grin, giving her a final charmed glance as he turned to make way towards the awaiting camera crew. Robo-Fizzies chasing after him with lighting sticks and microphones.

[F/n] catches herself after his stare, the spines on her tail rattling flustered. Her posture eases before anyone else can see as she flicks her tail in response.

Damn did she hate whenever he said things like that.

It's almost as if he knew the effect he had on her, doing and saying things that would purposefully rile her up. [F/n] refused to acknowledge any part of it, counteractive to the very obvious blush on her completion.

Through the commotion, Mammon smiled charismatically in [F/n]'s direction as their eyes met again. This was going to be a long shoot.

"That went better than I expected." [F/n] mumbles. Mammon appearing in a green cloud next to her. Bells chiming happily.

"Why'dya say that? Doubted me?" He rung.

"Well for all the years I've known you— Accepting you got fucked is definitely not something you're known for... You're taking losing your star clown better than I thought."

Mammon chuckles in amusement.

"Star clown? I am the star clown. With or without him I'll still make a fuck ton o' money." He nudges her. "With y'er— uh, our ideas and my reinforcement I don't see any issue mate."

[F/n] looked very, very, unconvinced. Mammon thinks for a moment before shrugging.

"At the end of the day you are my most valuable asset after all."

"What a way to make a girl feel special Ammo." Her eyes roll.

Mammon only giggled for a moment, attention immediately stolen upon taking in a familiar scent.

The smell of coffee meets his nose as they walk before the café in his estate. It takes him no time to decide he's in the mood for another cup of coffee.

[F/n] could already tell by the expression on his face. However unconvinced about giving the bug even more caffeine after his last.

Mammon playfully puts on a puppy-eyed expression as he bends town to her level.

He shoves his face in front of hers, frowning, the green glow of his pupils becoming brighter. "C'mon doll, ya'd say no to my lil 'ol face?"

His smaller spider eyes make a show as he frowns with an exaggerated pointed lip.

She sighs, gently pushing his face away. "Enough with the eyes. I'll be right back... Not like you'd let me say no anyways asshole."

Like a cat that ate the canary, Mammon smiles triumphantly as he took a moment to get seated on one of the empty tables outside the shop.

He enjoys the smell of coffee beans while searching in her direction through the large glass windows. He watches her make some hand motions towards the menu.

Letting out a big yawn, he blinks blearily. He could use a nap after all this.

Exploiting his employees was hard work after all.

Mammon observes her pull out her wallet, swiping her card. His smile becomes gentler, enamored at the idea of her willingness to spend her own money on him.

He became increasingly aware the expression he wore, quickly clearing his throat to look more serious.

It takes the café worker a second to hand her the single cup of coffee alongside a paper bag. He waves her goodbye with a bold wink, [F/n] unable to hold her laugh.

Mammon gritted his teeth. He conditioned his employees not to unnecessarily pester him, or her, especially when they were out together. Seems like one of them hadn't learned this yet. He took a mental note.

He was about to get up from his seat until [F/n] audibly shut the door behind her with a small jingle. She takes a seat across from him as he leaned forward and snatched the drink from her hand.

"'Bout fuckin' time cunt." He grumbles.

Mammon takes a sip of the cold coffee, ignoring his irritation as the sweet contents hit his tongue.

Or at least he tried to, the sweetness of it tasting rather dull part in due to his thoughts.

"Was this made by that fuckin' bogan?" He wonders.

His hand tenses, squeezing the drink at his palm slightly.

"I got you this." [F/n] mumbled, scooting the bag towards him.

Mammon snaps his attention towards back towards her, pausing to glance between her then the baggie before fishing through it. He pulls out a small box, opening it to reveal a cream colored pastry.

It takes him a moment to collect his thought.

Confused, he asks, "Why the cake, doll? Ya' know all I wanted was my coffee."

"You were feeling like shit earlier." She puts it simply.

Mammon shifted from the cake to her in his peripheral vision.

She was worried about him. Had him in her mind. Considerate about how he felt, albeit she wouldn't admit it out loud.

He couldn't help but grow a fat smile, genuine smile, as he scoots closer towards her.

"I'm starting to think ya' actually care about me, love." [F/n]'s eyes widen for a second.

She looks away from him, scoffing.

"Don't overthink it. I don't want to deal with you when you're in a mood."

Mammon takes a small bite, savoring the even sweeter taste. Humming with delight, he takes another portion of it with the plastic spoon, leaning forward to bring it to her mouth.

[F/n] glances between the cake and Mammon, who's unashamedly eagerly watching her.

"I-I don't—"

"Ahh don't fuckin' be like that mate. It's good, try it!"

The dragon takes a bite, flushed, as she ate the piece in silent agreement. Her tail sticking to her leg somewhat embarrassed.

He was right, the pastry was fluffy and flavorful. Not that she expected any different, that was the reason why she bought it for him. She would've never anticipated this however.

Another spoonful reaches her lips, she accepts it without complaint this time. Expression easing. Her tail wags behind her in satisfaction.

Mammon carefully scoops more, bringing it to her face once again.

[F/n] quickly swallows the bit already in her mouth, shaking her head this time.

"I bought it for you, I'm eating more of it than you are. You're being a little bit too charitable."

"Yeah but who's to say I'm not getting anythin' out of feeding ya', love?" He dotes.

[F/n] felt the tips of her ears warm, tail flicking.

Mammon soaks in her flush, turning to take another sip of his coffee. His eyes follow the direction of his lips for a glance before returning at her image.

He freezes for a moment, brows furrowing. Mammon checks the cup again to ensure he saw it correctly. [F/n] immediately notices his expression drop and leans over to see the source.

A phone number was written just under her name with a heart.

"Aw how cute!"

Mammon gags. "Cute?!"

"Yeah, first time someone has done that for me. It's kinda sweet!" [F/n] reaches for the cup, Mammon hisses as he holds it further away.

"Doll, there's no bloody way you're actually interested in this cunt. He's some fuckin' nobody workin' below minimum wage!"

"Oh please, you sound jealous, he was really n—!"

Mammon immediately crushes the cup in his grip, indifferent feeling the coffee spill onto his glove and trickle to the table. He reaches over to grab [F/n]'s extended hand to move it away as he leans towards her features.

His face was centimeters away from hers, sharp breath tickling her features.

"I ain't the sharing type." Mammon growled.

The cup gets engulfed in a green cloud, vanishing as the smoke dissipated. [F/n] glared at the spider, brows furrowed in uncertainty.

He was acting like this again.

"Fucking hell, I didn't want any of your coffee. I just wanted to see the goddamn number."

Mammon blinks, head tilting. He mutters something under his breath as he stands, breaking eye contact.

She thought he was upset over sharing a drink? Far from it, but he wasn't going to clarify if that's the conclusion she came to.

Still holding onto her hand, he strings her up as he gets out of his seat.

"Better ya' don't. This cunt wouldn't even be able to take care of ya'." [F/n] rolls her eyes. Though it didn't go unnoticed, as Mammon grimaced.

"It's impossible to find anyone at all when you scare everyone off." She growls lowly.

"Don't fuckin' hiss at me doll. I'm savin' ya from the embarrassment."

"The embarrassment of what exactly?"

"Of goin' out with the lower class, hells y're considered a knight for the Goetia ain't ya'? Y're not gonna get anythin' worthwhile in some random mutt."

[F/n] swats her tail very irritably, yanking her wrist back forcefully.

A loud tear following in the process.

"I can be with whoever the fuck I want and feel like, I'm not some goddamn princess."

Mammon looks at his glove, seeing as the motion of her pull had tore through the material. It was a reminder of how sharp her scales were.

It wasn't deep enough to cut his actual skin. But the damage on his glove was done. A rush of anger at her defiance. 

He sneers, looking between the café and her short figure. A cloud of green exits through his teeth as he grips her by the neck, lifting her effortlessly to his face.

[F/n] grabs his wrists, squeezing equally as hard, as her wings flutter behind her to give herself some leverage and room to breathe.

She looks genuinely shocked for a moment, though it only took a second for her to regain composure to glare at the sin with bared teeth. Scales began to form on her complexion. 

Mammon stares deeply into her eyes with a menacing smile. His miniature eyes emitting a soft glow.

"REMEMBER Y'R PLACE BENEATH ME BEFORE I REMIND YA'."

He let's her go, watching as she wobbly lands on her feet.

I gust of wind hits his face as she flapped her wings to soften the fall. The scales that covered her face immediately erase as the tension breaks with a longer sharp inhale of air.

They had instantly gained the attention of everyone around them if they hadn't already, silence deafening.

[F/n] felt humiliated. Hurt. Used.

Defeated, for once.

"I don't fuckin' pay ya to run 'round with y'r bitch hormones. I hired ya' to serve me and me only."

[F/n] bites her lower lip, her claw reaching up to feel where his met her throat.

That was the first time he'd ever grabbed her like that. Sure he'd scream and threaten her before, even swung at her at times however each time he did so slow enough to miss.

He'd chuck random items in reach sometimes knowing she could just dodge or fly out of the way.

It never crossed further than that.

Now to be grabbed by the neck? That was new.

The trace of his hand lingered warningly as she tried to sooth over her bruised skin.

She looked up at him, tail tucked in between her legs.

He would only ever harm people he saw replaceable. His subordinates. The realization came crashing down on her incredibly hard.

He could've just as easily killed her in that moment, snapped her neck and that would've been it.

Did their history mean nothing to him? 

What changed?

"Fuck you..." It came as a whisper.

Unsure of whether he heard that or not, he chose to ignore it either way in favor of her tail.

He pointed at it, releasing a laugh as if it was the most amusing thing he'd seen.

It felt nauseating. One moment he was warm: the next, cruel.

Despite all the time spent, she concluded he never saw her as anything further than another form of entertainment.

An animal he can poke and prod for a reaction. Even in her state of shock all he did was laugh. The sound echoed in her head.

A familiar tone rings, buzzing. And Mammon instantly snaps out of his laughter.

He fishes through his pocket to pick up his phone.

His alarm was going off.

"Ahh fuckin' bitch— meeting is about to start." He groans, recovering quickly.

"C'mere." He demands, forgiving the glare she shot at him as he pulled her arm so forcefully she knew she'd bruise.

Mammon teleports the two of them into his office.

The jiggles of coins chime as he lands into his web, [F/n] perched beside him.

Her eyes widen slightly, trying to adjust herself in a better position. She tugs on one of her wings stuck into the webbing with an irritated scowl. He quickly removed the damaged glove and snaps a new one in its place out of thin air.

Mammon, who's busy with a drumstick he seemingly pulled from nowhere, nonchalantly untangles her wing in a simple swipe.

He stops chewing for a second to give her a toothy smirk: [F/n] returning a huff.

"Oh come off it will ya', ya' bitch?"

"We need to talk."

Mammon, who doesn't give it any thought, takes another bite of his food.

"More bitchin'." He imagines.

"Some other time."

[F/n] looks away from him, curling her tail around her leg to try and provide some sort of self comfort. She felt disappointed.

Despite all the breakthroughs made in their partnership, he still treated her like an object. His object. Something he was free to do whatever he wanted to. Truth be told, it stung deeply.

It was the only thing she could think about lately.

There was no denying Mammon grew incredibly on her, she only wished he felt the same in return. Maybe then he wouldn't be so needlessly mean.

Was it something she did? Something she didn't do?

There was no point in even thinking about it, [F/n] didn't want to be embarrassed again. She refused.

Security open the doors of his office, and in come a small group of incubi.

The one leading the group takes a quick bow before the two, tipping his hat while smiling on his way up.

Both watch as they fill the room, trotting with some briefcases in hand. The thumps of their boots semi-absorbed into the carpet they walked on.

"What an honor to see Mammon and his little butterfly, even more so present our wonderful idea to." He starts, slowly pacing left and right.

"We all know about the massive, massive, slaughter that came of the drakon specie during the first war with heaven. Terrible thing really." He smirks.

[F/n] raises her brow, crossing her arms further.

"A bigger shame would be to allow the fun of them go." The incubus pulls out his phone to project a screen before them.

[F/n] and Mammon look less than impressed.

"I present to you the dragon dildo, made with real dragon scales! The synthetic crap can't compare to this." He chuckles, arms extended either way.

The incubi look impressed by their own work. "Dragon scales are the hardest material in all of hell. This thing would be fucking indestructible! It's every horny sinner's dream!"

Mammon yawns, waving a finger.

"And how exactly are ya' going to farm real scales? There's hardly a handful of drakons in all o' hell left mate n' the survivors are all considered royalty."

"Well my good sir, that's where we were hoping you would come in. Seeing as you already possess one of them. I'm sure the king of greed wouldn't mind parting with it in turn for a greater profit."

[F/n] leans out of her seat, seething at the disrespectful implication. "Are you stupid or suicidal?"

The incubus hands one of his partners the briefcase, who held it sideways.

"Oh but my dear, you are very valuable. Your title as knight is only a benefit you see. You can be a brand on its own with how infamous your status was."

He starts unclipping the handles of the case.

"My title was granted to me because of how efficient I was in fighting angels. You— I'd MOP the floor with you."

Mammon tugs her back onto his side. His expression doesn't say much, however, the hand planted around her thigh possessively said it all.

"Y're gonna die for wastin' my time." He snarls, grinning wildly.

Mammon snaps his fingers and in rushes his security of robot Fizzarollis.

[F/n] felt him squeeze her thigh as he presses her deeper into his side. Her initial anger melting as her heart beats faster in reaction. [F/n] stares up at him, his image burning into her mind.

Her hand rested on his chest— able to feel his warmth, his breathing, it felt too intimate.

She felt his heartbeat at her fingertips, beating a tad bit faster than usual.

Then, she remembered. She thought his claim over her was nothing more than superficial, for looks, all this to keep her obedient and lull her back into his claws until the next time she slightly agitated him.

She looks back at the group, frowning.

"Shame, really. I was hoping you'd cooperate for your sake." The incubi frowns.

He opens his briefcase, incubi's devilish smile doesn't go unnoticed.

[F/n], unable to say anything in time, connects two and two as a familiar glint reflects off the metal brandished.

Breaking out of Mammon's grasp, she straddles him and extends her wings— covering as much of him as she possibly could.

A glowing bullet hits [F/n] directly the bend of her wing, the jolt of pain sucking the wind out of her as she slips onto Mammon's stomach.

The incubi's angelic revolver smokes at the barrel.

Security tackles the gunman.

They struggle to get each of his henchmen into cuffs, but with increasing numbers it quickly becomes apparent the gunman along with his goons has no chance.

Mammon immediately moves to shield [F/n] with his body, placing her onto the web. They both look at wound, [F/n] hissing as she tries to stretch her injured wing.

"Fuck— A-Are ya' alright? I didn't think..."

"I'm fine Ammo, he just nailed my joint. That's it." She interrupted, groaning.

His face turns between her injury and her expression several times. He looked worried. His eyes glossed. 

[F/n] frowns.

Electricity flies off of Mammon, turning to look at the commotion behind him. Panic quickly turns into rage as he bursts out of his confined costume with a deafening yell.

The room fills with green.

Sounds of screaming immediately follow.

Mammon smashes some of the incubi into the floor, completely crushed under his weight. He makes sure to smear them in, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he does so.

Those unfortunate enough not to cease on impact were left wailing in agony: taking a fistful of the carpet in a hopeless attempt to pull themselves away with a gaping hole going through their back to their stomach..

It was messy.

The blood from their bodies popped similarly to that of water-balloons. It was a gross, alleviating sight. [F/n] could take comfort knowing sinners like these wouldn't be able to come after her again.

After having his fun, Mammon darts his head towards the remaining incubus.

His mini spider eyes radiated a toxic green as he slinked over. The two robo-fizzies who had captured him meekly raised him towards Mammon: who instantly snatches the man and brings him towards his eye level.

"PLEASE N—"

"B̴͍͚̀E̴̯̘̊G̴͈͍͝ ̸̯̩̌F̸͖̗̈́Ò̸͉́Ṛ̶̪͆ ̶͓̑͒Y̷̥͌͂Ŏ̴̖̩̒U̷̲̳͆͌Ṙ̶̟̂ ̸̦͓͂L̶͍̺̈́Ḯ̸̬F̶̨͓͋̅E̵̩̦̋."

Before even giving him the chance, his please come strangled into whispers as Mammon squeezes him in his fist.

He exhales a large green cloud onto his pitiful expression as he attempts to gasp for air, coughing violently in response. A crack erupts.

Mammon drops him to the floor, watching as he contorted with a deafening scream. Observing him cry for a moment: he does the same as he dealt with the ones previously, popping him like an unwanted pimple.

His breathing labored, the high coming down upon realizing he was the last of the group.

Mammon raises one of his bloodied spider legs out of a fresh carcass, inspecting it, grumbling something under his breath.

The security group of robo-fizzies seem unsure on how to proceed, each of them timidly watching awaiting orders.

"The fuck are ya' looking at? Get this cleaned up NOW!" He roared.

The robots scrambled, tumbling over each other as they struggled to organize themselves.

Mammon slinks back towards [F/n], expression instantly softening.

She lets out a whine, yanking out the glowing particle as the pain of it courses through her back. "Gods fuck that hurt..." [F/n] bit her tongue, aimlessly tossing the bullet at the floor.

"Shit, let's go get ya' patched up beautiful." He mumbles, taking her carefully into his arms as if she'd shatter entirely at the slightest bump.

"Fucking— OW!"

"Ahh can ya' fuckin' hold still for a minute mate!?"

Mammon quickly wraps a thick webbing around her wing, using a splint to keep it straight in place.

[F/n] squirms, suppressing the acid-ball forming at her throat. Mammon makes his final wrap as he sticks the web onto itself, hands gently caressing her wing.

He sighs.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. The silence deafening as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He frowns, gently letting go of his work.

Moving to cup her cheek as he turns her expression towards him even gentler, afraid he would somehow shatter her.

"Why the face? What's the matter beautiful?"

There it was, again, the rapid beating of her heart over his artificial pet names.

"Nothing. Just... I can't fucking believe I got shot right in the elbow." She mumbles, sparing a glance at his handiwork on her wing.

"Normally my scales are able to tank angelic bullets... Maybe I'm becoming weak." [F/n] sighed.

"I, uh, well ya'know... That bullet would'a sent me to the bloody hospital. Cunt aimed for my head." Mammon swallows.

He drags a finger under the fabric of his neck, pulling on it momentarily.

"And honestly... I think y're the only bloody demon crazy enough who'd ever do anything like that for me."

He strokes the webbing gingerly, feeling the material brush against the rest of her scales. He paused.

Mammon tenses slightly as he rehearsed his next sentence in his mind dozens of times, feeling awkward as the very unfamiliar phrase leaves his tongue.

"So —uh— I appreciate ya' more than ya' think..."

It falls silent as her face hues.

Though it doesn't bother him remotely, continuing to massage around the bend of her wing.

If only he were consistently like this. Then it would make the signs so much more visible.

Visible he actually wanted her.

[F/n] swallows thickly, doing her best to calm the trot in her chest. She knew despite everything if she could go back in time she wouldn't change the outcome of it.

Even in the chaos of it all she cared too deeply about him to imagine him hurt. With that, the wave of knowing she completely lost to him finally came crashing down on her.

Their game of chess was finally concluded, he won, and that's why she needed to get out.

"Mammon we really need to talk."

Her wing pulls away from his petting, curling back into its usual space. He seemed disappointed as the warmth of her injured limb left his grasp.

"What about?"

Her lips quiver, the frown on her expression breaking through the poker face she tried to maintain. Her eyes water, tail curling.

She thinks of all of their mishaps together. To when she first agreed to work with him, their first banter, their first success together, how they progressively got more and more comfortable with each other.

She went from someone behind the scenes to being his only companion. He was a hothead, but so was she. But their differences felt too great: the hot and cold treatment was driving her crazy.

"We need to end our contract."

Mammon blinked. Frozen.

He slowly clenches his fists impossibly hard.

"Why? Was it because o' that fuckin' incubus? Y-Ya' watched me kill 'em. I promise next time I—"

"It's not that. None of that."

"Then what is it? Fuck changed?"

"Mammon as much as I love being here with you and working alongside you, I just can't be around you anymore."

It was obvious he didn't understand, his pause with unsure searching eyes sought to try and read the static expression she did her best to maintain. 

"I'm sorry."

Mammon felt himself burn. He felt his insides ignite with such intense desperation with a feeling he didn't entirely recognize.

Even knowing her more basic tasks could be given to someone else to fill just as easily did nothing to reassure him.

Hells he didn't feel this lost when Fizz quit his position. He got over that so insanely fast. It was deeper than that.

This was the only person he remotely cared about in all of hell resigning.

The idea felt so unreal.

"I'm so sorry." [F/n] repeated.

The click of her boots echo as she walked towards the double doors of his bedroom. Like a whisper, she faded.

Mammon watches as her tail hovers just above the ground. Immediately noting how she didn't just drag it as she normally would. The low rattle it'd make was erased, as if she wanted to create the least bit of noise possible.

Why? Did he scare her?

Nonsense. She was the only one who wouldn't cave to his ridiculous disrespect despite his threats. And though it did get in his nerves initially, it grew on him and made everything in his life new again.

He enjoyed hearing her voice.

Hearing her talk about frivolous, nonsensical, shit. Enjoyed observing the smallest things about her.

Like the way she would hide the joy in her expression but unable to maintain the same façade in her eagerly wagging tail.

Or the way her wings would flutter for a second whenever she was blushing.

Or when she would get too excited her hair would pulse the color of her element. And how whenever she's extremely upset her clear complexion starts forming scales as if she were ready to morph.

Or how she sometimes has difficulty not tearing clothes due to the sharpness of her claws. She would always let out a loud groan and a few swears before deciding if it were salvageable.

He felt electricity course through his body. His eyelid twitching.

[F/n] hugged herself, shutting the door behind her as she power walked through his manor.

She used her sleeve to wipe away the tears before they could spill. Quietly whimpering to herself to alleviate the ache in her chest.

She doesn't get very far however, before snapping out of her emotions as a loud bang interrupts her.

[F/n] points her gaze backwards, watching the doors fly open while cracking at the force of his push.

"OUR CONVO AIN'T OVER!"

She backs up hesitantly as Mammon runs at her. The thumping of his soles grew louder, seemingly indifferent at the idea he may trample her.

Clouds of swamp green smoke exit through his teeth. He halts just before her, punching a hole through the wall next to them to release his rage. Chips of brick and dust recoil along with his fist.

"You— YA' THINK YA' CAN JUST JOG OFF?" He growled, leaning down as he stared at her.

"Whatever idea ya got in that pretty lil' head o' yours, toss it. I won't break our contract. You are MINE."

[F/n] sighed, eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head at him.

"You don't get it." Her disbelief erases as her head comes to point towards his.

She snaps her fingers and out manifests a golden sheet between them with both their signatures held within the bottom. 

"It's written agreement in our contact that only requires the consent of one party to break it."

Mammon felt a drop of sweat come down his neck.

He froze. The pain grew.

And she was right, the section she was referring to glowed faintly among the rest of the text as she highlighted it. Demanifesting as she withdrew her hand.

"A rule you imposed since you were initially skeptical about my performance in your estate."

"I- I... Fuckin'..."

It goes silent.

The rush of anger evaporated from his body with the sparks. Feeling at a loss on what to say, Mammon swallows thickly as he blinks.

He reaches a hand to clutch the material over his chest, squeezing it.

His gaze eventually trails back to hers.

His mind returns to the thought of massive their height difference was. She was so small compared to him. It made his heart chirp. His hand comes up to erase the flustered look looming on his features.

Mammon recollects himself as best he can in a pathetic attempt. He brushes his hat shakily, the bells chiming as the material bounced back.

"So then tell me why—?"

[F/n] growls, pressing her claws into her palm.

"STOP!" She shouts at him, quickly wiping away at the corner of her eyes. "D-Don't make this needlessly complicated."

Again with the tears, only this time she couldn't prevent them.

Mammon frowned, reaching out to her. He wanted to console her, wipe away those tears. It pained him knowing he was the source.

The tip of his index finger brushed against her cheek unable to get far.

[F/n] swatted away his hand. And that hurt him.

"You fucking... g-goddamnit you fucking dumbass... Can't you see what's going on?" She hissed stomping a few steps away from him.

"I fell so hard for you, and it fucking blows because I can't just have you." She turned towards him.

[F/n] gestures to herself angrily through her cries. "Do you fucking get it now?! I'm in LOVE with you— that's why I need to get the hell away from you. I want to be something more to you but you'll only ever see me as your subordinate."

She shouted, adrenaline coursing through only heighted by her emotional outburst.

Mammon grabs her despite her struggling with his lower pair of hands, leaning over and forcing her to allow him to clean her face.

He absorbs her tears through the material of his upper pair of gloves with gentle strokes.

She grips his wrists with enough force that'd dislocate them if he were any other sinner. He felt her tremble against him.

How could he not notice her pain before?

How long ago did she start feeling this way?

There was a pool of regrets swimming in his chest and among them the biggest was not erasing her doubts sooner.

"What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? I'm smitten with ya' dollface."

"You're a king sin— hell you outed Asmodeus for dating someone beneath him, how am I any different from that? People would think you're a hypocrite."

"Ya' think I give a remote fuck about what these cunts think? I'm the richest fucker in all o' hell, I didn't get here caring about what some bitch thinks o' me. I don't really give a flying shit about Asmodeus fuckin' some circus imp."

[F/n] immediately becomes less resistant to his advance. [E/c] eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

She searched desperately for any indication he was lying.

Mammon cups her jawline.

"I dunno how ya' haven't realized how obsessed I am with ya'... Thought it was reaaal obvious: I mean for fuck's sake I don't wanna be anywhere without ya'. Everything I do is with you." Mammon sighed nervously.

He lifted her in her arms, bringing down his face to gently set his forehead onto hers.

He didn't entirely recognize it before, but now that the cat was out of the bag it was so painfully apparent.

Everything he did was by her, to her, and for her. He found himself more temperamental and bored in the situations he had to exist without her. The cogs in his head finally spun, blushing for a mere moment as he finally admitted it out loud. 

"I'm obsessed with ya princess. I'm fuckin' crazy over you."

If her heart pounded any faster she was sure she'd pass out.

Her eyes glued to the tiny white slits in the sea of bright green within his eyes.

They both glance down at each other's lips then back at their gaze.

Immediately realizing what the other was doing, they both smash into each other desperately. Mammon felt a firework go off in his head. She was putty in his hands. A little butterfly caught in his web.

He growled.

[F/n] caresses his features, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks and pulling him closer.

A surge of electricity runs through his expression and tickles hers affectionately. It courses her hands and down her arms eagerly. 

Mammon drags his bicolored tongue across her lips, pushing himself in at the slightest gap.

Their tongues dance and with no protest Mammon explores his new territory. Their teeth clatter, Mammon doing his best not to pierce her.

The taste of coffee and pastries still lingered strongly on his saliva. Their tongues dance, aching. It's as if they couldn't get close enough to one another, both feverishly pushing into each other craving every bit of contact the other could provide.

Pleased with her submission, he makes way back into his room.

Massaging her ass with his upper pair of hands and grabbing onto her heels with the other. [F/n] releases a muffled moan.

Mammon breaks the kiss first, glancing at the spirit trail that still connected them. He licks the drool from his lips, savoring their long overdue tension-breaker.

He steals a few more pecks before taking a seat on his bed, holding onto her. He brushed a strand of her [h/c] hair out of her face.

Mammon chuckled softly, enamored with the bright hue on her complexion: gaze hungry.

Mammon stares at her. Unmoving. As his breathing very audibly becomes heavier.

It takes him a painful few seconds to snap out of his own trance.

"As much as I wanna fold ya' in my bed and have ya' take care of my stiffy— y're injured and need to rest princess."

"Oh come the fuck on Ammo, I'm fine!" [F/n] pouts, huffing while trying to feel him up through his clothes.

She slinks downwards to attempt and grind against the growing tent underneath his layers of clothes to entice him.

Mammon with every bit of self control in his body, has none of it, interwinding her hands into his instead with force as he pulls her back up to steal another peck.

"I love y're excitement but I will hurt you."

"You're no fun."

"You'll fuckin' get what you want later... Needy whore."

He scoots closer into bed.

Mammon snaps his fingers. A puff of green surround both of them, clearing quickly to reveal he had changed them into their sleepwear. He smiles softly.

His blanket flies over them as he adjusts more comfortably, plopping [F/n] on his chest.

[F/n] coils into a ball, purring happily while nuzzling herself into the crook of his neck. She quickly settles. His hand reaches to pet her hair lovingly, listening patiently as her purring gradually became more distant overtime until she drifted off entirely. 

Mammon sighed with satisfaction, captivated, only then closing his eyes. "Y're gonna stay mine forever." 

[sserpente]

A/N: Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates! ♥ Some naughty President Loki action seems like a fitting Easter gift to me, what do you think? Also, I’m proud to announce there’s an actual Easter egg in this Imagine that may or may not have something to do with my upcoming English novel… Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2616 Warnings: assassin!Reader, violence, dub-con, smut

One and a half million—as a deposit. That’s how much you demanded to see in your secret bank account before you had even considered going anywhere near what used to be Stark Tower and now acted as a base for him. Loki. President Loki.

You didn’t particularly care who you were supposed to kill, nor who hired you to do it. Governments were corrupted all over the world—there was not a single politician who didn’t act in his own interests rather than the people’s. You were only in it for the money.

President Loki, however… he was different. That man was a god with abilities you wouldn’t even dare dream of as a mere human. Your raised fee would reflect the danger you’d put yourself in if you accepted this mission. And then once the God of Mischief was dead, you’d be ten million dollars richer.

You were the best of the best—you got hired when the job needed to get done. You doubted that anyone else would be capable of sending Loki straight to hell. Or was it Helheim? He was a Norse god, after all. Surely, there was some eternal hellfire reserved for the likes of him.

But then again, you weren’t exactly a saint either. You murdered for money, never questioning whether the person whose life you were going to end was innocent or not. Granted, most of them were not and had red on their ledger one way or another but occasionally… occasionally, they did not deserve to die.

You were pretty certain that Loki did though. He wasn’t the worst ruler this world had ever seen but at the end of the day… he was an alien king forcing humans into submission. You wouldn’t bow to anyone, you thought, as you polished the sharp and hidden blade inside your lipstick. The job was messier when you chose it as your weapon but with Loki, you’d have to be sure. A slit throat would ensure he was truly dead and for that, you would have to get up close.

This time, your approach was going to be a little… unconventional. You had thought about it for a long time—and you had come to the conclusion that there was no other way to get into that tower without getting killed yourself before making it even anywhere near Loki.

Judy Magenta. That was the made-up name you had used to register for the escort service to receive legal identification for offering Loki… your time. It had taken quite a few naughty pictures to lure him in, along with a bought recommendation from another escort girl one of Loki’s lackeys booked regularly.

You had to admit, you did feel a little silly putting on that green glittery cocktail dress after tossing your lipstick knife into your clutch. The black high heels were a lovely touch though. You’d keep them after this job, as a trophy.

-

“You’re here to… entertain the president tonight?” The bulky bald man who escorted you to the lifts after the taxi driver dropped you off right in front of Stark Tower licked his lips when his greedy gaze travelled up and down your V-shaped cleavage.

“I am,” you gave back with a sweet smile, batting your eyelashes at him all the while you imagined kicking him in the balls until he howled for his mummy. You could tell he kept staring at your body and your rather revealing outfit during the ride up to the penthouse but, for the sake of keeping in mind you were not really an escort girl, you elected to ignore it and said nothing.

President Loki was standing at his bar surrounded by power-hungry politicians eager for his attention. Dressed in a black suit with a green tie and those golden horns on his head, he turned to face you with a glass filled with what you presumed was bourbon in his hand. He lifted his chin in a curious manner, his blue eyes narrowing just a little.

“Mr President…” the bulky bouncer began. “Uh… this is…”

“Judy. Judy Magenta. Your company for the night?” you offered. The bouncer let out a relieved breath.

“Ahh… just in time. I was just about to call it a day.” Loki’s voice was smooth, charming. He had a way with words, you had to give him that. Under different circumstances, you’d even admit that he was outrageously attractive. He was a god, after all. That must have been the reason.

You didn’t know if he’d done this before—or if he’d done it back on Asgard but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter, right? You were only doing this because it would give you the perfect opportunity to get just close enough to kill him and get this over with. Pleasure had no place here.

“Gentlemen… I will see you tomorrow. And you…” His blue eyes fixated on you, involuntarily sending shivers up and down your spine. “…why don’t you wait for me in my bedroom? I will be joining you shortly.”

You almost scoffed. So formal… if the sex was going to be anything like that… ugh. Well, most men with a big ego disappointed under the sheets.

Nodding, you made your way over to the door he pointed at and slid inside, taking in the furniture. A king-size bed with green sheets, of course, hundreds of books on shelves towering up all the way to the ceiling, and a neat desk armed with ink and a green and gold quill. It was very old-fashioned but a surprisingly comfortable room, you decided, as you threw your clutch on the bed.

You’d come prepared. Condoms, lube, even a cock ring. Whatever would tickle his fancy before you’d draw your little knife for a different kind of climax. By the time his lackeys would notice he was dead, you would be long gone. You were wearing a wig tonight as well, along with some coloured contacts to conceal your identity. Life as an assassin was a dangerous and lonely one but you were pretty used to it.

You flipped around when you heard the door open, forcing a fake smile. Loki had removed his horns now, and swapped his suit for a more comfortable outfit. In fact, he was shirtless, putting his pale but trained chest and arms on display. He wasn’t as shredded as Thor but the God of Thunder had never been your type anyway. Loki on the other hand… remember, no pleasure!

Your feigned smile widened as you turned around and moved your fake hair out of the way. “Help me undress?” You felt his presence behind you after a few silent steps, his soft fingers ghosting over your back to unzip you.

Needless to say, you had relinquished wearing any underwear tonight even though you did carry a spare pair of knickers in your clutch just in case. Once he slid the green dress off of your body and you stepped out of it, you turned back around, trailing your fingers over his abs.

“Ready for some fun, Mr President?”

“Loki will suffice, pet,” he replied. Pet? Oh, of course. Complete and utter submission. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him and instead, took his hands in yours and started walking backwards until you could lie down on his bed, pulling him on top of you.

You had to admit, you quite enjoyed how hungrily he glared at your naked body, his blue eyes wandering over every single inch of bare skin as if he was a demon you had summoned and now aimed to please in exchange for his power. The bulge in his trousers grew quickly as he hovered above you.

“Loki,” you repeated, testing his name on your tongue. Then, you reached for your clutch on his bed, pulling out the lube.

“And what’s that when it’s at home?” he asked, eyeing the bottle in your hands suspiciously.

You smiled at him. “Lube will make this experience more enjoyable for the both of us, Loki.”

The God of Mischief frowned. You blinked at him when he began to chuckle as if you’d just told him a hilarious joke.

“I can guarantee you, we will not need it, pet.” You were about to protest when he cupped your cunt with his hand all of a sudden, two fingers lightly stroking over your outer lips. You dropped the small bottle the moment his thumb found your clit, applying just enough pressure to ignite… arousal. He knew what he was doing. You realised that the moment he bent down to pepper your neck with hot kisses and teasing licks, his digits working their magic. He had you wet and ready for him within minutes of this delicious treatment. Fuck… you were not supposed to be enjoying this!

“There we go… it seems your body thinks we don’t need your lube either…”

You gasped for air when he slid two fingers inside of you, curling them at your g-spot. Your hips were bucking up to meet his hand against your will the moment the slick sounds of him fingering you echoed through the silent bedroom.

“Oh… fuck…” That felt good. You couldn’t quite remember the last time you had taken a minute to masturbate. That… that must have been why. You hadn’t had sex in so long that Loki exploring your soaking pussy had you writhing because of your celibate lifestyle.

His dark chuckle went directly between your legs too. And it was only then you realised that his trousers had disappeared into thin air, willed away by magic. You could feel his hard length pressing against your inner thigh, eager to claim you. Much to your own surprise… you wanted him to.

“C-Condom…” you choked out panting. But your reward was Loki removing his fingers from your cunt to instead snatch your wrists and pin them down above your head to render you all but helpless beneath him.

“A condom? I don’t think so, pet…” And with that, he forced himself between your legs and used his free hand to guide himself into your waiting hole. Inch by inch, Loki pushed forward, sheathing his girth inside you until he’d claimed you to the brim. His growl made you moan as he filled you so deliciously well that you believed your pussy was made for him.

When he started moving, you almost forgot why you were here. Loki withdrew almost entirely and then began rutting into you like there was no tomorrow. He fucked the assassin right out of you—for when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he made sure to attack your neck yet again.

Moaning, you arched your back, your breasts brushing against his bare chest with every single thrust of his and fuck, this man knew how to use his tool. Each and every stroke drove you further to what already felt like the best orgasm of your life as the sound of sex and skin slapping against skin filled the room.

“I can feel you tightening around me, pet. Cum. Beg me for my seed,” Loki growled into your ear. You wanted to disobey him—wanted to disobey that commanding tone, that entitled smugness. But you couldn’t. Loki played you like an instrument, taking that delicious climax from you whether you wanted to give it to him or not.

You came around him with a moan, your toes curling and your walls pulsing around him, doing just what he had asked you to do. Your cunt was begging for his seed. He was merciful tonight. Loki reached his own peak with a low growl only moments later, filling you up and staining your walls until it came oozing out of you.

Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, that arsehole had screwed you without a condom! Only now that you came back to your senses did you realise what you had let him do. Okay, don’t freak out… you can get a morning-after pill as soon as you are out the door. You’d ruin everything if you lashed out at him now. Besides… Loki was still hard—and it did not seem like he was going to tire any time soon.

-

It was three a.m. when he finally let you rest. Your pussy was sore, his cum leaking from almost all of your openings. He’d made you cum for him at least six more times before you’d lost count and now… now he was sound asleep next to you.

Time to strike.

As quiet as a mouse so you wouldn’t wake him up, you reached for your clutch that had at some point fallen to the floor, retrieving your lipstick knife. Then, you climbed on top of him, revealing the blade in the dark. You could barely make out his features with the curtains drawn but your eyes were trained to work in the shadows.

You gripped your weapon tighter, ready to slit his throat.

“I wonder…”, he mused with a start. You froze. “I wonder how much money you were offered to try.” He’s awake. “Are you going to tell me, pet?”

Your heart was beating so fast you worried it would jump straight out of your chest. Your paralysis lasted for only a second too long. By the time you reacted to finish what you’d started and kill him, he’d already overwhelmed you. Loki snatched your wrist so harshly you were forced to drop your weapon. He flipped you both over so you came to lie on the bed beneath him, his face only inches from yours. You winced when he ripped the wig off of you.

“Now… I’m impressed. You went to considerable lengths to get close to me. But you see, pet, I am the God of Mischief. I’m not easily tricked.” Cold shivers ran up and down your spine when he proceeded to call you by your real name. “But I must admit,” he went on, “that I am also a little disappointed. You know the punishment for attempted assassination of your king, do you not?”

Death. Execution. You swallowed thickly. How had he found out? He’d known. He’d known this entire time you were no real escort girl and still… he’d still fucked you! You gnashed your teeth, narrowing your eyes at him with anger usurping your growing fear.

“It’s a shame, really… you would make such a fine pet. Hmm…” He paused, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. “I think I’m going to keep you.”

Your eyes widened. “Kill me or let me go, Loki. I’m not playing your stupid games.”

“Oh, but you will, pet. You better get used to your new surroundings. You won’t be leaving any time soon.”

He made you moan involuntarily when he pushed inside of you without any forewarning. You hadn’t even realised he’d gotten hard again.

“Now…” he mused. “How much was it?” His lazy strokes made you even angrier—it felt good. Too fucking good.

“Ten… million,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Ahh… well, I hope the money was worth your freedom. Because you are mine now, my little assassin.”

You wanted to punch him, scratch him and bite him, to wipe that mischievous smirk from his face. But you couldn’t. Not right now anyway—Loki kept rutting into you until you were sure to lose consciousness. My little assassin… you hated the depraved and lascivious part of you that enjoyed the idea of him keeping you as a pet.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you’d finish your mission, right after… right after you’d let him give you another orgasm. You’d… find a way… surely…

[deadpresidents]

"Graphic art was powerless before a face that moved through a thousand delicate gradations of line and contour, light and shade, sparkle of the eye and curve of the lip, in the long gamut of expression from grave to gay, and back again from the rollicking jollity of laughter to that far-away look." -- John G. Nicolay, Abraham Lincoln's private secretary

•••

To borrow one of his most famous oratorical devices, it was ten score and 15 years ago that Abraham Lincoln entered life and began one of America's most unlikely and extraordinary journeys, and 159 years since that journey ended because of an assassin's bullet. To us, Lincoln will always be a statue; a painting; a bust on Mount Rushmore; a monument on the Washington Mall; a solid, stoic, staid symbol staring back at us from a dull, green five-dollar bill, a rusty-looking penny, or a black-and-white photograph. Yet, he was one of us -- a human just as colorful as any American that has ever existed, and through his rise and his triumph, he told us a story that Republicans claim as the standard for their party, that Democrats claim as the inspiration for their party, and that Independents of all backgrounds do not dare to turn away from.

Lincoln's story is so extraordinary that we don't even think of him as a member of our species. He's on a higher level. He's almost mythological. A legend. We see his face like we envision the face of God. The halo surrounding him almost downplays the fact that he lived the same way we live. He needed oxygen and water and food. We all have sensitivities about how we are perceived by others, and Lincoln was no different. To many of his contemporaries, he was a freakishly tall, gangly, ugly man. During his life, people called him a "baboon" and "a barbarian." The man that Lincoln placed in command of all Union troops, General George B. McClellan, referred to the President as "the original gorilla." They made fun of his high-pitched, nasally voice. They made fun of his country accent -- the way that he pronounced "chair as "cheer" and said "hain't" instead of "haven't." They laughed at his careless clothing choices, and snickered at the fact that he never combed his hair. When he delivered the Gettysburg Address in 1863, one Pennsylvania newspaper wrote, "We pass over the silly remarks of the President. For the credit of the nation we are willing that the veil of oblivion shall be dropped over them, and they shall be no more repeated or thought of."

In Lincoln's lifetime, more people probably rolled their eyes instead of listened intently when he launched into yet another backwoods joke or funny anecdote that he couldn't stop repeating. He had family problems. His mother died when he was very young, and he had lifelong daddy issues. His borderline crazy wife was domineering, emotionally (and allegedly physically) abusive, and his young children ran roughshod over the White House. He had no real close friends and experienced devastating heartbreak -- including a love that was lost and the deaths of two of his young children. He was simultaneously considered inexperienced and weak, heavy-handed and harsh.

"Honest Abe" was the cleverest, sharpest, and most vicious politician of his time. The gentle and joking country politician destroyed his enemies, threatened his opponents, and steamrolled his rivals. This beacon of liberty and protector of freedom bypassed the Constitution and suspended Habeas Corpus. Abraham Lincoln began his Presidency intending to save the Union in whichever way possible -- even if it meant allowing slavery to continue. The "peculiar institution" was abhorrent to his beliefs, but an acceptable sacrifice if the result was the Union's survival. Until he finally reached a point where he recognized that the sacrifices being made during the Civil War were exactly the kind of bloody price that needed to paid to cleanse the nation of its original sin of slavery.

Like many, if not all, of our greatest leaders, Abraham Lincoln was a man full of paradoxes. Beneath the solemn visage that was Lincoln's complex face was a cheerful, jovial, informal man who loved nothing more than a good joke or a witty story. Yet, further beneath that genial layer was also a dark, depressed man who lost the love of his life when he was young, seriously considered suicide on numerous occasions, felt unsatisfied with his accomplishments and about his qualifications, and faced the death of his favorite child while he wrestled with the biggest crisis that this country has ever faced.

Lincoln may have have been our nation's greatest orator, perhaps even America's greatest pure writer. His writing -- and not just his speeches, but his private letters and messages to Congress -- is memorable and poetic. If the Civil War was a symphony, his words were the lyrics to its beautifully terrible music. When the war was going badly, he used his words to simultaneously challenge his generals, assuage the public, and exert his control over the many crises his country faced. When the war was going well, his words were soothing, inspirational, and a bridge to the South that invited capitulation without humiliation. Lincoln's words were the words of a writer who spent all of his life studying the English language, yet Lincoln was largely self-educated by the light of a candle in a dark, damp log cabin.

We will never know why it was Abraham Lincoln -- a virtually unknown frontier lawyer who had served just one term in Congress a decade before he even ran for the Presidency -- who was destined to lead the United States through the Civil War, but can we even imagine another person equipped to do so? Like a shooting star, Lincoln appeared and against all odds, he saved the Union. Then, when the war ended, he disappeared again. Not a day earlier or a day later, either -- on literally the first day that he truly felt that the Civil War had ended, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, arguably the last casualty of the Civil War.

So, the next time you think that all hope is lost or that you've failed at something or that you are "only human," think or Abraham Lincoln, who overcame a lifetime of obstacles and challenges and failures to save the Union that he loved and believed in and became a legend and hero to the world today. Remember that we are "only human," but so was Abraham Lincoln. You could be a lot worse off than being "only human."

The rocking chair that President Lincoln was sitting in when he was shot by John Wilkes Booth on April 14, 1865, now on display at the Henry Ford Museum, Dearborn, Michigan.

[readingsquotes]

"I still can't get over the fact that the psychopath behind the "protests" blocking aid to Gaza is an American who fled to Israel to escape charges for his suspected role in the murder of Alex Odeh, a Palestinian in the US. @JoeBiden could literally extradite him and stop this." -@TaliaRinger "ADC had become a target of the Jewish right after it began challenging the pro-Israel consensus in the U.S., organizing demonstrations against Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon. In 1984, ADC members were regularly receiving threatening phone calls from an individual or individuals identifying as the leader of the Jewish Defense League, an anti-Arab movement led by Rabbi Meir Kahane. Physical attacks began the following year, after the ADC began taking out advertisements in the Washington Post attempting to convince American voters and public officials that Israel should no longer receive annual allotments of millions of dollars in U.S. foreign aid. On October 11, 1985, Odeh was scheduled to speak at Congregation B’nai Tzedek, a Reform synagogue. As he entered the Santa Ana, California, office of the ADC that morning, however, a bomb exploded. He died on the operating table two hours later. It was the second bomb attack in just as many months against the ADC. Hours after Odeh was killed, his slaying was justified by the Jewish Defense League. “I have no tears for Mr. Odeh,” said Irv Rubin, then the national chair of the JDL. “He got exactly what he deserved.” No arrests were made. In April 1994, when Odeh would have celebrated his 50th birthday, the city of Santa Ana erected a statue of him to commemorate his life and his work. Two years later, the statue was defaced, and a few months later, it was again desecrated by vandals who doused it in buckets of blood-red paint. --- According to Friedman’s article in the Los Angeles Times, the FBI identified Fuchs, Ben-Yosef/Green, and Manning as the top suspects in Odeh’s slaying, before the twisted wreckage of the ADC offices had even been cleared. “The names of Fuchs, Green and Manning were mentioned as the bombers while we were still in front of the bombed-out building,” a California police official told the LA Times in 1990. Manning was extradited to the United States in 1994 for another murder, not directly related to far-right activities or to Jewish power politics and is currently serving a life sentence for that crime in an Arizona federal penitentiary. Fuchs, meanwhile, has maintained a low profile for the last quarter-century, but The Intercept confirmed he lives in a small settlement south of Bethlehem, continuing to participate in private political meetings of the Israeli far-right. ....

Decades After a Palestinian American Activist Was Assassinated in California, Two Suspects in His Killing Are Living Openly in Israel

Baruch Ben-Yosef, who was born in the United States as Andy Green, and Keith “Israel” Fuchs were named suspects immediately after Alex Odeh’s 1985 killing.

David Sheen

February 6 2020, 8:00 a.m.

[bestoflupiniiipoll]

Lupin III Poll Pt.2 Matchup Results!

Round 1:

Matchup 1: The Hemingway Papers vs Part 1

Matchup 2: Italian Game vs From Siberia with Love

Matchup 3: Lupin VIII vs Strange Psychokinetic Strategy

Matchup 4: Voyage to Danger vs Legend of the Gold of Babylon

Matchup 5: Angel Tactics vs Dead or Alive

Matchup 6: Elusiveness of the Fog vs Green vs Red

Matchup 7: Mystery of Mamo vs Lupin III Live-Action Film

Matchup 8: Part 4 vs Alcatraz Connection

Matchup 9: Part 6 vs Daisuke Jigen

Matchup 10: The Pursuit of Harimao's Treasure vs Secret of the Twilight Gemini

Matchup 11: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine vs Missed by a Dollar

Matchup 12: Farewell to Nostradamus vs Lupin vs Cat's Eye

Matchup 13: Fujiko's Lie vs Lupin vs Conan TV special

Matchup 14: Seven Days Rhapsody vs Prison of the Past

Matchup 15: Part 2 vs Napoleon's Dictionary

Matchup 16: Swallowtail Tattoo vs Goodbye Partner

Matchup 17: Operation: Return the Treasure vs Pilot Film

Matchup 18: The First vs Inspector Zenigata

Matchup 19: Bye Bye Lady Liberty vs First Contact

Matchup 20: Island of Assassins vs Is Lupin Still Burning

Matchup 21: Goemon's Bloodspray vs The Last Job

Matchup 22: Part 3 vs The Columbus Files

Matchup 23: Dragon of Doom vs The Fuma Conspiracy

Matchup 24: Lupin Zero vs Lupin vs Conan The Movie

Matchup 25: Blood Seal of the Eternal Mermaid vs Lupin Family All Stars

Matchup 26: Part 5 vs Princess of the Breeze

Matchup 27: Manga Series vs Sweet Lost Night

Matchup 28: Jigen's Gravestone vs Another Page

Matchup 29: Return of Pycal vs Tokyo Crisis

The first 6 matchups will posted on Wedensday. Till then stay tuned and may the best Lupin win!

[rustbeltjessie]

The Heart's Graveyard Shift

I lose faith in my left hand not because my dog Echo's eloped with ignis fatuus into pinewoods or that my limp's unhealed after 13 years. What can go wrong goes wrong, & between loves an empty space defines itself like a stone's weight helps it to sink into earth. My devil-may-care attitude returns overnight, the bagwoman outside the 42nd Street Automat is now my muse. I should know by heart the schema, routes A & B, points where we flip coins, heads or tails, to stay alive. Between loves I crave danger; the assassin's cross hairs underline my point of view.

                                            Between loves, with a pinch of madness tucked under the tongue, a man might fly off the handle & kill his best friend over a penny. His voice can break into butterflies just as the eight ball cracks across deep-green felt, growing silent with something unsaid like a mouth stuffed with nails. He can go off his rocker, sell the family business for a dollar, next morning pull a Brink's job & hijack a 747. He can hook up with a woman in silver spike heels who carries a metallic blue guitar or he can get right with Jesus through phenobarbital.

                                           Between loves I sing all night with the jukebox: "Every man's gotta cry for himself." I play chicken with the Midnight Special rounding Dead Man's Curve, enthralled by the northern lights & machinery of falling stars. Internal solstice, my body, a poorly rigged by-pass along Desperado Ave., taking me away from myself. Equilibrium's whorehouses. Arcades scattered along the eastern seaboard. I search dead-colored shells for clues, visions, for a thread of meat, untelling interior landscapes. A scarecrow dances away with my shadow. Between loves I could stand all day at a window watching honeysuckle open as I make love to the ghosts smuggled inside my head.

—Yusef Komunyakaa, from Neon Vernacular (Wesleyan University Press, 1993)

[bonniebird]

Yelena x Reader  

Requested by Anon​

December event

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“You’re sure?” Yelena asked. She nodded and sighed then hung up the phone. You had sat on the sofa and watched her hopefully but she shook her head. “They think a few more weeks.” 

“You’re sure?” You asked and she nodded.

“Sorry that your Christmas plans are ruined but at least you’re not going to be assassinated or anything.” She offered with a smile. You sighed and nodded.

“It was just dinner with some friends.” You muttered quietly. Yelena watched you get up from the faded sofa and go to the bedroom of the safe house. The next morning you woke to cold throughout the safe house. Feeling like you didn’t want to ever get up again you pulled the covers up over your head and went back to sleep. When you woke there was a pleasant smell and the house was warm. You slowly got up. As you did something on the foot of the bed fell off. Picking it up you found a parcel wrapped in brown paper and newspaper pages. A note stuck to the front from Yelena said ‘put on when you get up.’

Opening the package you found a set of warm pyjamas that were so soft to the touch you stroked over the fabric several times. 

When you came out with them on you spotted Yelena n a matching pair but in green instead. She was cooking something on the stove and there was something in the oven which glowed warmly. The fireplace had a large fire in it and it filled the small living room warmly. Snowflakes made out of newspaper were stuck all over the walls and ceiling. Empty packets of cheap dollar store stars were on the side. When you looked closely you saw they were stuck to the ceiling.

“Ah! You’re up. The store was out of holiday stuff but they had macaroni.” She almost sang the word macaroni as she stirred the pot on the stove. “It’s just box stuff but I found some extras to add in. I got some other supplies too. Nat is calling soon to tell us when the next supply drop is.” 

The two of you watched an old movie on tv. It was small and boxy, every now and then a line of white ran down the screen. The two of you ate until a device Yelena had turned on just before serving dinner beeped. She answered it and the faces of Natasha and Melina were projected onto the wall.

“Hey. We’re going to have to move you again.” Nat said. You could see that they were in a car.

“When?” Yelena asked. Natasha shrugged and sighed.

“Maybe tomorrow. The day after. I’d stay packed up at any rate. You never know when these things could change.” Natasha paused to look at a building covered in lights as they passed by. “How's your holiday going?” She asked as she looked back at her phone.

“Good.” You answered quickly. “Sorry, you couldn’t do your usual plans. But urm. We were able to collect some of your gifts from other people. Some special food is being sent to the next safe house. We’re trying to head back to ours now. We lost them again. But we’ll know more soon.” She continued.

"Um. We’re clearly having a superior holiday moment because we’re wearing matching jammies." Yelena said suddenly when the conversation dropped off. When it had begun Sam had come to the door, hurried you into a car and taken you to the first safe house. Bucky had arrived a few hours later and they’d both said you’d be home by the end of the day. But the time had stretched on month after month. Yelena had taken over staying with you when whoever had threatened you caught on that Sam and Bucky were with you.

“Yes! Look.” You stood so the machine could show Natasha your matching outfits. She laughed as you and Yelena preened and showed off.

Yelena tags:

@lovelyy-moonlight @stellasblog @DeanWinchestersgirl87 @thekayarlene @linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @skinny-bitch-juice @salemsnothere @supernatural-wolfie @sentimentalweasley @why-am-I-here-01 @maxineswritingcenter @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @multifandomwriter56 @littlefreakingfangirl @thebookisbtr @bluejaysaysstuff @lchufflepuffcorn @Kaitieskidmore1 @stupendousbelieverzombie @thebaileybugle @bluejaysaysstuff @slxthxrxn-sxmp @hc-geralt-23 @maplefire18

[liamtwatter]

Paul Gallagher, the older brother, had written an article on Zani about Senna. These days celebrating the 30th anniversaries of Ayrton Senna from Brazil (Italian origins) and Oasis first releases. That Brazilian showgirl, girlfriend of Senna, was a jinx. In that scene wishing him all well and kissing him for all the years until 1993 and not 1994... I remember 1989 was the biggest scandal in sports history. Senna said everybody knew Prost always crying and blaming others... that reminds of overrated media darling Lewis "Lewser" Hamilton (9 years for a pole in Monaco, driving fast cars), so more similar to Prost than Senna... "correct" media and influencing (plagiarising) fankids who didn't live his times, say the opposite. Senna was against the system, politics in which Prost was swimming well... That's why it's so weird to see Senna being used by spineless pathetic Vettel of correct politics system... (fake "green" bullshit that Noel Gallagher hates, sick lgbt that Noel said fuck off, etc Vettel had to go to Singapore by bicycle, because of global warming and even retired because of that... sure... but he preferred a jet). Prost didn't show respect, even mocking Senna for believing in God... If you see the famous 1989 scene from the front, it's even more clear that Prost move was deliberate. The president was Balestre, a French, so obviously favouring Prost... Senna was even accused of causing the collision, which is totally absurd (he would've lost the title). Prost was even laughing when saying the rules can be interpreted... and that he didn't collide on purpose... sure... in fact he won the title thanks to that. As if it wasn't enough, Senna won anyway but disqualified because "cutting the chicane"... even more nonsense. He had lost even more time when trying to come back ontrack. According to the absurd rule, he should've reversed with an inversion, so dangerous going against other cars. Obviously nobody ever did that, and many cutting chicanes were never punished (just as Hamilton...). He even had 6 months (then didn't) and 100,000 dollars to pay. It's obvious he had his vengeance in 1990, when (Balestre) made him start on the wrong side of the front row... Prost refused to have Senna as team mate in 1993... sure, because he would've lost against him... he's always been a childish coward, I remember the famous 1984 Monaco GP, he stopped where was the red flag, as trying to hide himself behind his mum's skirt...

Senna today would hate technology, A.I., whatever, the same as Noel. He was winning races as a real man, even in 1993 against that electronic Williams computer...

electric cars of corrupt Eu are a fraud : as if it wasn't enough (not green, and Africa Asia Brazil children being used not only for lithium, price, copper stolen, explosions, etc etc), they are 3 times more dangerous for pedestrians and cyclists. Many times we've seen people suddenly had a silent electric taxi behind their legs and got scared. Who IMPOSED electric (only in the Eu, as a dictatorship, to "save the planet"), is an assassin. Oh they are those of Von der PFIZER Leyen lying (documents destroyed, conflict of interest with her husband etc for dangerous fake vaccines), sending billions for weapons...

[knaivcs]

@full-of-mercy

He looks almost innocent as he rests, eyelids framed by long and pale lashes dotted with opalescent pearls of blue liquid, various tubes and pipes keeping the serum flowing in a constant stream around his body. The hum of machinery is punctuated by a metronome of vital signs, all recorded and monitored carefully by the good doctor Conrad and his circle. It all makes for a rather clinical tomb, no hewn and polished gems or statues handcrafted in gold, no mummified servants nor stacks upon stacks of double dollars to speak of.

There is the retreating form of a cat, a flash of wide green eyes and the curled tip of a tail disappearing behind a cloud of fog generated from the low temperature of the room- rising off of the surface of Knives' embalming fluid (of sorts). Even Wolfwood's breathing should be coming out in wispy trails of steam as he approaches, not even the metallic click of the human's revolver hammer cocking seems to disturb the angelic being in repose- His aura retains a haunting and terrific gloom, oppressive even as he sleeps.

However briefly the Punisher hesitates, it still remains a second too late. The bullet ricochets off coiled tendrils made up of curving blades, strikes a pipe that releases more steam into the room, obscuring the pool in which Millions Knives rests. He opens his eyes to nothing but humid white, a cheshire smile curling at the corners of his lips. His gate suit manifests around his body, the cloak he normally wears pooling around his waistline and draping around his lower body artfully. Like a saint immortalized in painstakingly carved marble mimicking flesh, his beauty is immaculate- Perfectly symmetrical, the golden standard of physical allure, dazzling in it's innate sensuality.

Yet there is a quality that feels off, that such perfection could exist as a living and breathing creature seems... wrong. Unearthly grace coupled with a predator's economy of movement, even with near floor-length tresses fanning out in loose waves down the broadness of both his chest and shoulders.

"Is that any way to greet your master, Nicholas? Has it been so long, you've forgotten basic politeness, or have you always lacked such social graces? I genuinely believe you to have been more charming than this, in the past..."

He presses in close, leaning to one side in an almost coquettish pose for someone being visibly threatened by a weapon. Knives' index finger trails along the barrel of the gun slowly, as though it's little more than a toy or a prop needed to complete Wolfwood's heartless Eye of Michael assassin act.

"Haven't you ever heard that 'you can't get a man with a gun'?'"

[iove33]

Assassination (part 2 ) 😜

Killua x reader😍

Your pov 😘:

You had just gotten home and to you apartment you open the door locking it behind you *ding * *ding * *ding* you open your phone to see your group chat you had sent them your location and what time it was when you left telling them that you would be home around 9 and you text them if you were out a little later .

They weren’t very concerned though they just wanted to know how the date went (it was amazing HES SO FINW😍) was your response smiling at the text walking to your bed were you store your shoes under you took of your shoes first then walked to the bathroom to brush your hair and teeth and wash off your make up then doing you skin care routine.

“Finally done 😊” you smile to yourself happy to be going to bed “shit…” you had promised your cat a treat she has separation anxiety so you got back out of bed calling him and giving him a treat and some cat zaza (cat nip ) to calm him down “alright come on baby “ you picked him up setting him gently on the bed getting in she snuggled into the crook of you arms and neck you fell asleep after setting your alarm after work your going to the carnival with your friends Kenzy , Maddie, and Chloe .

Killua’s pov :🇺🇸

I drove her home and leaned my head against the headrest my heart was beating she looked like a godess I would warship her if she asked the way her hair framed her face and the way her eyes lit up when a topic she liked arose if I could I would marry her there I know it’s fast but I knew I’d liked her sense that night .

I drove home and unlocked the door sitting there in front was my horror movie looking brother. Of course he’s here “ why is your creepy ass here ?” I ask “ I heard you sent someone’s money back our zoldick pride is not turning down assassinations without good reason “ he said sharply “ it’s my list my desision.” I replied “ now get out I’m tired “

He left though he’d probably be back I went to bed after changing into pajamas.

Your pov :🤑

You woke up to your alarm half asleep you got yourself out of bed and got dressed you wore a green shirt it was a draw string crop too and a v-neck to and black yoga pants (if you don’t wanna wear that idc chose wtv) and grabbed your bag that you were bringing to the carnival and headed out the door putting your shoes on.

(Time skip to after work ) you clocked out and left saying bye to your work friends. *ringggggg* *ringgggg* “ istg if you don’t answer …” I mutter under my breath “hello! “ she answered “ are you on your way to pick me uppp” I ask “ yep just got kenzy and Chloe on my way for you !” She says “okkk.. “ I whine .5 minutes later she arrives and I hope in shot gun my pookie saved my spot 😻🫶 “ok let go bitches “ and we left to the carnival 🎡

“Let go we’re here “Chloe says I hope out and help kenzy out who was sitting behind me “ let’s go to the snack shop first !” I say “ oh shit I left my air pods in the car do you mind getting them for me ?” Kenzy said I glare her and walk off heading towards the car I already had the keys sense I had a big bag I walked of but standing there was killua he said he couldn’t go with me and my friends but there he was I walked up to him and …

Killua’s pov : 👻after a couple months of hanging out I knew I wanted her so I told her I couldn’t go with her and her friends and went to the mall I picked up the flowers I had ordered and a custom neck lace ( idk for y’all but my mom always said promise rings were bad luck for break ups ) and got in my car I went to the dollar tree I got a big ass basket of candy and drinks and left for her I found were her friends told me the car was and waited for her .

Your pov : 😈

He turned around with an arm full of treats I looked at him questioningly and then a burst of words blurred out of him mouth “ y/n! I’m in love with you will you be my gf ! “ he asked squeezing his eyes shut in suspense “no?.. I MEANT YES ! YES I WILL “ you say I’m hope of redeem the no he handed you the basket and put the necklace on you pulling you into a kiss the necklace had your initials together in a heart “I love you “ he says looking into you bottomless eyes “ I love you to “.

Idek so yea here’s part two pookie a im necver going to proofread so you get cringe and badly spelt stuff 😈

[dans-den]

Soul Hackers 2 Review

What's going on everyone? It's Dan here and today I'll be giving my first Video Game Review on the turn based JRPG, Soul Hackers 2!

This game is another entry from one of my favorite game developers Atlus and Published by my favorite Publisher Sega. I enjoy playing Atlus's other game franchises such as the Shin Megami Tensei series (I've played 3 and 5) and my personal favorite Persona (4, 5, Royal, etc). Both of those franchises have their own distinct personalities in terms of gameplay and theme.

Soul Hackers (much like Persona) was a spinoff game of the SMT series, specifically devil summoner. I find it strange they chose to make a sequel of the soul hackers game 25 years later but it might be due to the success of Persona and SMT back in 2021 with Persona 5 Strikers and SMT 5 doing well. I never played the original Soul Hackers game it was released the same year I was born on the PS1 and by the time I started playing games we had entered into the 6th generation of consoles (GameCube, PS2 and Xbox etc) so I had no clue of this games existence. When I saw Soul Hackers 2 trailer and how this was an Atlus game, I was intrigued to pick it up, I kept an eye on it and didn't end up purchasing the game until last month during Sega's steam sale where I bought the premium edition for about 60 dollars which I consider a decent deal getting the entire game and DLC's.

Now this game has had a very mixed reception and I wasn't sure what it could be. I looked into it and while playing the game, I think I was able to find some of the issues and saw some things I liked about it. I'll start with the theme, SMT is known for being Dark while Persona is more comedic and somewhat light-hearted. Soul Hackers 2 falls more into Persona territory where its theme is more quirky and light-hearted moments with some dark themes mixed into it for the sake of the story, People do die in this game and at times can be graphic. Their gameplay styles also help separate them, SMT is naturally a more difficult game to play even on normal and even easy mode at times. If you mess up once in SMT, your whole turn is done. Persona is more forgiving in that regard though it has its moments where its challenging enough while being able to progress through the story. Soul Hackers 2 is an easier game to play than Persona. Persona still had the turn based mechanics similar to SMT where if you mess up, you only lose a couple turns. It doesn't matter if you mess up in Soul Hackers 2, your turn will be unphased meaning you can complete all four turns whether you mess up or not in battle. That also means that even if you find the weakness, you don't gain a turn, its only four turns. Normally you would gain turns if you find the weakness of enemies, but it doesn't matter here in Soul Hackers 2, four turns is the ruling.

The characters in Soul Hackers are different from SMT and Persona protagonists since instead of high schoolers, the Protagonists consist of Young Adults in their 20's (assuming mid or late 20's) which is refreshing rather than the typical high school A-team. The characters are alright, they have their own personalities to them and their own stories. Ringo (yellow-green) and Figue (Purple) are two sentient AI's in humanoid bodies sent by Aion to protect the world from the impending doom of humanity all while learning what it's like to be human. Arrow is a Devil Summoner of a group called Yatagarasu who's the straight man of the group who lacks in some social queues but is a determined individual loyal to his friends and what he believes in. Milady is the assassin devil summoner from the other devil summoner group called Phantom Society and is the former lover of the main Antagonist Iron Mask. Saizo (my fav) is the comedic relief of the group who is a freelance devil summoner who workers for both sides and is a smooth talker with a charismatic personality. Each one has their own reason to fight and the chemistry between them are fun to watch I'll admit. Though the writing at times feel like they're trying to be hip and appeal to the younger audience and it comes across as cringey at times. But overall, the characters and their interactions are good.

The Story itself is not bad, but its also not great either, it's alright. The story is your typical Apocalyptic situation from Atlus where it takes the SMT route by having a big bad guy trying to destroy our current world so that they can create a new world in their own warped image. Our heroes have to stop them from destroying the world. The way its done in Soul Hackers 2 is done decently well where Iron Mask is collecting 5 covenants to give himself the power to destroy the world and create a new one. The story has a twist near the end which I wont spoil but I thought it was cleverly done. Soul Hackers 2 has an area called The Matrix where out heroes go through their souls and fix their souls from enemies invading it and as you keep exploring and leveling up your level for each character, you'll unlock deeper parts of their souls and stronger foes to fight and collect. I have issues with how they structured progressing in the game, I feel they should have made the Matrix a more essential way of progressing in the story and leveling up.

As mentioned before, the game is easier compared to other Atlus titles, as long as you level up you'll do fine though I do have issues with how you level up. Though there are moments where the EXP you get from fighting enemies doesn't feel like a substantial reward after grinding and fighting, feels like you're cheaped out at times. I also noticed that it has that resting mechanic that Persona 5 Strikers had where you'd exit the portal and rest up immediately which was a complain Strikers got. Soul Hackers 2 has that same mechanic with the Safehouse, you can go to the safehouse and rest up or eat a meal and replenish your HP/MP with zero cost or consequences. This is what I feel holds great Atlus games back, when they make it too easy with these replenish areas you can use whenever you feel like it but again that's just me. I also want to mention how the difficulty in this game doesn't change much. I did this game on all three difficulties and they hardly change. in SMT, the difference is drastic and even Persona has a more noticeable different in difficulty when you change it.

As mentioned, I purchased the DLC for the game since it was all on sale. The main meat of the DLC is a big side story with the young novice Devil Summoner named Nana. She eats a lot, she's sassy, a bit of a brat and her story was lackluster to say the least. She wasn't anything significant to the game, I wish they had done it like Royal where Violet was added as a main part of the game and it fit well without any real plot holes. This is why I'm glad they went with adults rather than teens or I would have just said "this game is dollar tree persona". I understand she's just DLC and not an actual part of the story, but if you're gonna make a DLC side quest, at least make it where it adds something meaningful to the game. The other DLC's are demons that were obtainable before in other Atlus games but now in this game they're behind a paywall which was another criticism I was seeing and I totally agree with that. I hate it when things that were free and obtainable through skill in the past are now locked behind a paywall which is just anti-consumer. So yeah, DLC's were definitely a flop due to how they handled them.

Overall, the game is a decent turn based JRPG. I see this as more aimed towards the average gamer or gamers not familiar with Atlus or turn based JRPG's. This game is definitely not meant for the Atlus fans such as myself even though its structed almost the same as SMT and Persona with different endings (which are both cool) and fusing characters (the fusion scene in this game is kinda lame) but its structured to be easier than their other franchises. I still had fun beating the game and collecting demons and leveling up. I still think this is a fun Atlus game to play, just not one I'd play after I played games like SMT or Persona.

Rating this game I am giving it:

7/10

I would recommend this game to someone who wants a fun turn based JRPG or wants to get into the Atlus games, though if you're a long time fan of Atlus, wait till this game is on sale like I did and play it as filler while waitin for the next Persona or SMT game. This game is good, but could have been great if only handled better.

That's all I got, See ya!

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

July 23, 2024

TURN DOWN THE HEATED RHETORIC, YOU BITCHES

Mean words are mean! Mean words can hurt people. Someone might even get shot in the ear. So say Republicans from House Speaker Mike Johnson to Utah Rep. Burgess Owens in the wake of the attempted assassination of Donald “Hang 'Em High” Trump. In his nomination speech, Trump sought to bring the country together by saying he would be president of all Americans not just the half that aren't stupid sonsofbitches. “The discord and division in our society must be healed,” he told the jubilant convention crowd. “In that spirit, the Democrat party should immediately stop weaponizing the justice system and labeling their political opponent as an enemy of democracy... In fact, I am the one saving democracy (from them stinking liberals).” Republicans followed suit. Georgia Rep. Mike Collins said President Joe Biden, himself, ordered the hit on Trump. Tennessee Sen. Marsha Blackburn said,"Just days ago, Biden said 'it's time to put Trump in a bullseye'.” That's just not nice. And it's much different than when Trump said Gen. Mark Milley, the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, deserved to face the death penalty. Or in California, when he called for shoplifters to be shot on sight. Or when he continues to label immigrants as rapists and murderers. That's just, you know, politics.

DEVINE PLAN FOR REVITALIZED DOWNTOWN SALT LAKE CITY

Hey Wilson, did you know that Mormon Church founder Joseph Smith drew up the plans for Salt Lake City before he was killed in 1844 by a mob in Carthage, Ill. So when Brigham Young and the faithful arrived at “this is the place,” they laid out the city according to their prophet's plan. It's all true. So get this: a dude named Ryan Smith showed up recently with billions of dollars and a plan to makeover 100 acres of downtown around the Delta Center. Some people say it's no coincidence that Joseph and Ryan have the same last name. Some have even offered that Ryan is Joseph's reincarnation but was unable to bring back more than one wife. So anyway, like Joseph, Ryan has a master plan and he's asking doubters and Salt Lake City planners to have faith, although he didn't specifically mention “The Book of Mormon.” And he does have some converts, like Mayor Erin Mendenhall and the City Council, who have given the green light to Zion 2.0. Some of the details remain a little fuzzy, like the height of the buildings, if 300 West will go underground, if bicycles will be allowed, and weather there will be connectivity to the rest of downtown so surrounding businesses won't go belly-up. You know, little things like that. But not to worry. Just have faith.

'FOLK HERO' PHIL LYMAN: GOV. COX STOLE THE ELECTION!

Here we go again. Stop the steal! San Juan County's rough rider and defeated gubernatorial candidate Phil Lyman is not calling it quits despite losing the Republican primary election to Gov. Spencer Cox in a blowout. Sound familiar? In contrast, Lyman gave Cox a drubbing to get on the ballot at the MAGA-flavored state GOP convention where the governor was booed like a Democrat. Lyman became a rural hero in 2014 when he organized an ATV protest ride in Recapture Canyon, which was closed to motorized vehicles to protect cultural artifacts. He was convicted of trespassing, but later was pardoned by then-President Donald Trump. Let freedom ring! Lyman thinks Cox pulled a fast one when he somehow got 28,006 signatures of registered Republicans in order to get on the primary ballot. Bogus signatures would leave Cox off the ballot, Lyman says, but state election officials won't let him inspect Cox's petition. Deep State conspiracy! As a legislator and former county commissioner Lyman has more experience than vice presidential nominee J.D. Vance. Too bad Lyman lacks the billionaire buddies that got Vance where he is. Word of advice: Phil, better get some rich friends.

Post script — That's gunna do it for one heck of a historic week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of assassination attempts and instant karma so you don't have to. Talk about a close one. Only an inch separated Donald Trump from an early exit. History was made and yet it wasn't. One inch could have meant the GOP would be without a standard bearer' taking the pressure off Joe Biden to step aside. But the bullet missed, Trump is riding high, and it is Joe Biden riding into the sunset. In a rally after his nomination was cemented, Trumps said this: “I took a bullet for democracy.” If that isn't a conversation stopper, we don't know what is. Football season can't come fast enough. Speaking of football (clever segue), University of Utah football coach Kyle Whittingham will make $6.25 million this year. You're right Wilson, most of us won't make that much in a lifetime. But wait, there's more. Upon retirement Whittingham will receive a one-time lump sum of about $5 million. Also after retirement as part of his contract he will serve as a special assistant to the athletic director for $995,000 a year for five years. Holy smokes. You'd never guess, but Whittingham is the highest paid state employee. By contrast, Gov. Spencer Cox earns $213,430. It's a mad, mad, mad world.

Well Wilson, the staff here at Smart Bomb is a bit unsettled — too much history, too fast. We just get used to one reality and then Wham! The guys in the band are used to shifting sands, so, Wilson, dig something out of your play book that will give us a dose of sanity and some perspective. OK, hit it:

To everything - turn, turn, turn There is a season - turn, turn, turn And a time to every purpose under heaven A time to be born, a time to die A time to plant, a time to reap A time to kill, a time to heal A time to laugh, a time to weep To everything - turn, turn, turn There is a season - turn, turn, turn And a time to every purpose under heaven A time to build up, a time to break down A time to dance, a time to mourn A time to cast away stones A time to gather stones together To everything - turn, turn, turn There is a season - turn, turn, turn And a time to every purpose under heaven A time of love, a time of hate A time of war, a time of peace A time you may embrace A time to refrain from embracing To everything - turn, turn, turn There is a season - turn, turn, turn And a time to every purpose under heaven A time to gain, a time to lose A time to rend, a time to sew A time for love, a time for hate A time for peace, I swear it's not too late!

(Turn, Turn, Turn — The Byrds)