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morally-grey-girlbosses · 1 year ago

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The top two characters will be eligible to proceed into the bracket!

Propaganda under the cut.

Black Canary was submitted without propaganda.

Poison Ivy:

She started as a villain, but it's getting harder and harder for the writers to keep her in that position because she's literally correct.

Environmentally conscious and eco-friendly. Favours plants, is passionate about their growth and habitat, uses all natural fertilizer (it could be you! Visit Gotham now for more info)

Catwoman:

One of the original morally grey fandom girlbosses, she’s been breaking and entering and doing whatever she wants since the 40s! She’s a villain, she’s an antihero, she’s a love interest, she’s a manipulator, she’s got it all! Simultaneously one of the most iconic bad guys AND superheroes. Catgirl supremacy >:3

Harley Quinn:

She’s thee antihero

She's not a bad person. She does bad things sometimes, she does good things sometimes. Don't let no fixed morality hold her down, welcome to Gotham baby!

Ravager:

Shes the daughter of famed mercenary murderer villain deathstroke. She has historically toed the line between hero and villain. One of DC Comics' best antiheroes. She has more daddy issues than anyone else alive. She has a homoerotic rivalry with not one but two superheroes named cassandra. Shes willing to do what has to be done. Her dad mind controlled her at times and she went back to being evil. She has precognitive powers and enhanced healing. Shes deeply paranoid about her place in the teen titans when shes on the team. She totally wants to fuck wonder girl. she leaves the teen titans and works with the terror titans as a double agent. she wants to not be like her father. she wants to kill her father. shes a great fascinating character consistently done dirty by writers. shes a hero but shes done bad things and is a morally complex and fascinating hcaracter. i love her sm

Oracle:

im not even the peak babs stan and im sure theres other people who can explain it better but shes a really complex and interesting character and an undeniable girlboss. as the information centre of the superhero world as the mysterious oracle after being paralysed by the joker, she takes up a central role working alongside the infamously morally grey suicide squad with the dubiously villainous amanda waller, before becoming a core member of the bataman family in the 90s and 00's and leader of the birds of prey. shes tried to shoot people before despite working with batman. she manipulates her teammates. shes deeply morally complex and has an interestng relatonship with batmans code. she deserves to win because dc has done her horribly for the last decade plus, erasing her competence and her disability to regress her from a mature and complex woman and a cornerstone of the superhero community alongside some of dc's only disability representation; to a rookie hero or nightwing's arm candy. she fucking rules. dont hate.

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dreadhaus-literature · 6 years ago

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{January Collection} #22

Ode to My Body

Tuesday’s Theme: Lyrics

“Welcome home, Harl. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

The purr of Pamela Isley’s voice slid over Harleen Quinzel’s skin like rose vines and the blonde giggled, bouncing up and down on booted toes with an excited clap.

“For me, Pammy? Ya shouldn’t have!”

The welcome kiss between the Sirens was brief but meaningful, deep. It had been a long day for them both, preoccupied away from each other which made their tasks seem more mundane and boring than they might’ve had they tackled it together. Harleen, known more infamously as Harley Quinn, slung her still wet bat over her shoulder, leaving it propped by the door in case she needed to grab it in a hurry, before she followed Pamela, aka Poison Ivy, deeper into their lovenest like an excited puppy offered a treat.

“Can I have it now?!” Harley all but begged, causing Pamela to smile.

“Hm, well I don’t know. Have you been a bad girl, today?”

“The worst,” Harley rested her chin on Pamela’s shoulder, grinning. “I was the worst gal in Gotham today.”

Pamela’s smile was one of pride, and it turned Harley’s heart over. It was so much easier to love someone who knew how to love you back...

...but Harley wasn’t above falling into her same old ways if she had a good reason to.

Good reason didn’t mean the Joker, oh no. Mistah J’s days of tormenting Harley were long gone, thanks in part to the support of Pammy. Harley was in a stable relationship for the first time in her life, if one didn’t count the dependability of the Batman showing up every time she broke the law. It was this safety and routine with Pammy that set Harley up for both success...and being taken off-guard the moment she ran into a pretty li’l girl on the sidewalk by the name of Monica.

Fate’s a funny thing, in Gotham. There’s nearly 10 million people who walk those streets, live in those buildings, drive on it’s roads. What are the chances of finding someone who just...does it for you? Harley may come across to some as a ditz but it was just an act; she’s sharper than a whip and those eyes have been trained to see everything. That day on Gotham’s snowy sidewalk, she had seen everything. Everything was wearing a black faux fur coat, coincidentally resembling hyena fur, which was the first thing that caught Harley’s curious gaze. Curiosity killed the cat when the wearer of the coat walked right past her, trailing expensive perfume that had Harley turning, walking backward just to keep the scent drifting beneath her nose. Satisfaction brought the cat back when Harley’s inquisitive gaze caressed a profile straight out of a magazine, and she recognized immediately she’d just passed the Heiress to the Alcari Family fortune and empire.

Monica.

Oh sure, everyone knew of her, but to see her? That was a whole ‘nother experience and it left Harley breathless but not speechless. Definitely not speechless. The moment she’d gotten home it was all she could talk about, telling Pammy everything, from the scent of her intoxicating perfume to the beautiful curves of her profile. Pamela had listened with only brief barbs of jealous jabbing at her like rose thorns, but that changed considerably when Harley insisted they find a way to see her again. Heiresses live their lives in the public spotlight, it’s just the nature of a culture obsessed with celebrities--it was just the first time Harley or Pamela had found themselves right alongside the enamored masses.

Obsession is not a funny thing, no matter where you are. Like roots of a tree it plants itself firmly and then grows, no matter how little it’s nurtured but if it’s given water, given sunlight, if it’s fed, like fire it will grow. Harley kept Pamela on the cold Gotham sidewalk outside the Alcari building for four nights before Monica finally walked past again and in that moment, Pamela understood. She understood why Harley had begun cutting out pictures of Monica from magazines and hanging them on their bedroom walls. Pamela understood why Harley insisted on stealing several bottles of Monica’s perfume from a high-end perfume counter--it was perfume Harley sprayed on their bed pillows at night before they slept. Sweetest dreams Pamela had ever had. There was just something about this girl that forced the two Sirens into unfamiliar territory--for Pamela, at least. Harley was no stranger to obsession, to devotion that consumed her waking hours and filled her nights with vibrating toys and beginning Pammy to pretend Monica was in bed with them, too. Now that Pamela had seen Monica, laid eyes on her, was close enough to touch her, she understood. Fuel to Harley’s fire and the two of them were burning together.

Plans began to take root in the apartment. Pamela asking the smart questions, wanting to know how Harley knew Monica wasn’t just another Mistah J. But Harley knew just what to say--

“You wouldn’t be this way about her if she was! You always was the smart one, Pammy.”

It was an argument that quieted the last and only one of Pamela’s concerns. Harley was prone to obsessive behavior, like a child she fixated on her favorite toy and didn’t want to let it go, even when the toy was dangerous, as it was in the Joker’s case. Pamela wanted to be concerned that Harley was repeating history, but she couldn’t find it in her to think such negative thoughts about Monica. The two Sirens had been following her, both physically and over social media, for weeks by this point and she knew the other woman well enough to know there was no real danger, here.

The Sirens didn’t need to be worried. Monica did.

“It’s in the bedroom,” Pamela gestured toward their open bedroom door, biting back a soft laugh as Harley nearly sprinted to it, so eager was she to find her gift.

“Oh, what is it? Did you steal more of Monica’s clothing?! I really wanted that bikini she wore to that yacht party, I bet those skimpy little bottoms she wore smell like Heaven.”

It was true, Harley had begun the ritual of stealing clothes and objects from Monica’s penthouse weeks ago, and even Pamela had broken in to steal a few things as well, but at Harley’s question, Poison Ivy shook her head.

“Even better.”

Harley’s tongue poked between her grinning teeth as she turned in the doorway and immediately let loose an excited squeal, disappearing into the bedroom to claim her surprise. Pamela all but sauntered over to rest in the doorway, watching Harley leap onto the bed, bouncing twice even as she wrapped her arms around Monica’s waist.

The Heiress was bound to the headboard, her wrists wrapped in vine with a promise Pamela wouldn’t use thorns unless she tried to escape. Monica hadn’t, and her reward was being presented to Harley Quinn as a gift.

“Oh Pammy, it’s perfect, she’s perfect!” Harley’s seeking, obsessive fingers could not get enough of touching Monica, tickling and pulling, grasping and tugging at every inch of her. “Can we keep her? Huh? Is she gonna stay with us, now?”

Pamela’s gaze nailed Monica to the bed even as she answered Harley. “She is, Harl. She’s ours, now.”

At the word ours, Harley began nosing kisses against Monica’s tear-stained cheek, over-exuberant mwah, mwah, mwah’s that meant as much as kisses were made to mean. Monica could feel Harley meant the affection, as if the two of them had been dating for years. She knew who these two women were; loving in Gotham it would be difficult not to, but never in a million years did she think she’d ever be abducted by them--and not even for a ransom! No, when she offered to buy her freedom, Pamela had all but snorted--though the noise seemed a little too undignified for the woman known as Poison Ivy.

“Do you really think this is about money? Darling pet, this is about you. It’s always been about you.”

Monica didn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle but she saw enough of herself strewn through this apartment to know Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy were fully expecting her to be theirs, now. There was possession In Harley’s touch, in her kisses, and Monica’s eyes fluttered closed as Harley tipped her head up to kiss her square on the lips. The kiss was burning in it’s possessive desperation, as if Harley had been wanting to kiss her for years.

“Oh, she tastes like candy, Pammy! See, I told you, this ain’t no Puddin’,” Harley drew back but only slightly, running her tongue along the seam of Monica’s lips. “Candy’s already sweeter than Puddin’ ever was.”

“Candy, hm?” Pamela crossed the room on long, elegant legs to sit on the edge of the bed. Delicate fingers slid up the bare skin of Monica’s ankle, circling possessively as Pamela continued to lock eyes with Monica. “Our little candy girl.”

Harley laughed, an excited, happy sound as she pulled Monica in for more kisses, drinking from parted lips already swelling from the force of Harley’s desperation.

“Let her breathe, Harl,” Pamela chided with a soft laugh. “We have all the time in the world, now, and she’s going to faint if you don’t give her a little space.”

Harley broke the kiss just to hear Monica gasp slightly, and she brought her hand up, running her fingers over Monica’s kiss-swollen lips, her other arm around Monica’s petite shoulders. Harley was in every inch of Monica’s personal space, threading their legs together so that her knee was grinding slowly against Monica’s barely covered cunt.

“We finally got our little girl, Pammy,” Harley turned to smile at Pamela. “AIn’t she the sweetest? I told you she was, didn’t I?”

“It’s true,” Pamela turned her smile to Monica. “She told me the first day she saw you.”

“We’re your Mommies now, Candy,” Harley tapped her nail against Monica’s nose. “You’re gonna be our spoiled, pampered little girl, yes you are!”

Monica felt the bed shift and turned from Harley to see Pamela crawling up the bed, her sheer robe parting to reveal she wore nothing beneath. Monica bit back a whine as Harley pushed more insistently against her slit, rolling her clit just to elicit another noise, turning with excitement toward Pamela anytime Monica did anything. Monica had no idea what was happening to her life of routine and normalcy but she knew it was over. Pamela’s hand slid around Monica’s waist and as Pamela claimed her lips, Monica felt her head spin and wondered if Pamela was drugging her, again. She’d done it before, that was how she’d gotten Monica here in the first place. Monica was aware of Harley’s lips on her neck, her desperate, seeking fingers slipping up Monica’s shirt as Pamela’s moved between her thighs, forcing Harley’s knee back so Pamela could split Monica’s folds cleanly with long nails. Monica cried out against Pamela’s mouth, and immediately Harley was there.

“I know it’s a little scary now, Candy, but you’ll see, it’ll be fun!”

“I promise, you’ll adjust,” Pamela spoke against Monica’s lips, finding them just as sweet and intoxicating as Harley had promised. “You’ll be a good girl for your new Mommies, won’t you, darling?”

Monica’s head was swimming, and she was vaguely aware she was nodding. Whether that was Pamela’s influence or if some part of her was responding to the sinful touch between her legs, against her breast, she couldn’t say. Pamela kissed her again, stealing her breath, and Harley clung on a little tighter to the body they’d been coveting for agonizing weeks, now.

Love’s a funny thing, in Gotham. You’d be surprised how many different shapes and sizes it comes in, but as they say--

Mommy knows best.

#{theme} : for monica #{character} : harleen quinzel #{character} : pamela isley #{collection} : january 2019 #{ went the obsessive route with this since it suits Harley SO well }#{ just hope i did them justice }#{ i'll hurl myself into the sea if i didn't }#{ they don't DESERVE TO BE BUTCHERED }

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