#isdamned

perhaps just a no-good intimidation tactic, a mere bluff. but hadn’t it worked? he knew deadshot took good priority in his family. create an image as if they were to be threatened ... and surely, you would have the family man. so now he’s in his trap. a trap for a rodent, the cage door shut tightly. out from the shadowy corner frank strikes, getting a good sucker punch in before showing himself fully. the skull glistening against his kevlar, followed by the shine that radiates off of the glock he pulls out. silent the hunter is, not hesitating to release the safety and aim the weapon right at the man’s head.

send me ❀ for an aesthetic moodboard representing our muses’ relationship || still accepting!

           “ What the hell you think you’re doin’ Dumbshot ? Just ‘cause we’re teaming up for the sake of my friend, means I want to have sleepovers with ya later. I don’t need saving, is that clear ? ”      That little duo was probably the most surprising one lately, but when two people had interests in same things, you could make compromises looking good. The thugs jumping out of nowhere & having their big guns targeting them, the man had fought stepping up as a shield before her was a good idea. 

     he’s refusing to look at his rogue partner, so he settles by playing with the end of his black coat - older than life itself. this is not the scarecrow, but maybe this isn’t jon either -- MAYBE IT IS, who knows, he isn’t himself anymore, he’s a mix of absolute stress and love, was jonathan going soft ??

     no. inside the mess that he is, he’s still jon, and he’s still the scarecrow, and that’s a life he can’t hide away from.

     ❝ — i can’t, can’t leave the kid alone in my place, but who the hell is going to take care of him ??  if anyone finds out, i’m going to be a fucking target, lawton. ❞  NOT EXACTLY THE BEST THING TO BE CONFESSING TO A HITMAN, and in his right mind he wouldn’t, but he’s tired.

❝ 𝐌𝐫. 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐭𝐨𝐧. Thanks for coming. Sit. We need to talk. ❞ 

A gloved hand extends to motion across the desk to an empty chair. Not exactly where he’d prefer to conduct a serious meeting, but an empty large warehouse fit the aesthetic he was going for. Well, empty except a metal desk, two chairs, and a duffle bag at his feet full of money. But vast and uncomfortable as the first ring of hell was still the mood he intended to set. Call him dramatic.

And no way he was he bringing Floyd back to his bunker to talk about business. He about trusted the assassin as far as he could throw a tank. Hood was pretty sure even if this deal went through he couldn’t trust Floyd not to take a deal from Black Mask and come try and blow his brains out. But maybe that was just the Bat’s paranoia bleeding though.

Hood leaned back in his chair and propped his legs up on the desk. He was still a new player in the world of crimelords but his money was good and hopefully, that was enough to entice the assassin into working for him.

“ What you’re going to do Deadshot ? Kill me ? I’m not even a contract. ”     Her hands dropped to sit on curved hips && a tilt of her head,      “ Seriously, you && me here, that means Waller sent you. What are you looking for... or maybe it’s a who ? ”