#they’re giving dr. pamela isley

[ramshacklerumble]

i randomly remembered about this.

i'm building the dragon roll household in the sims and shout out to this absolute sitcom of a moment when i idly thought about locking the greenhouse so that only gia could get in, except someone already beat me there before i had the chance to and made enough mac and cheese to feed the tri-state area in gia's cauldron

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 3: New Friends

“Wakey wakey, sunshine.”

The guard from earlier pounds on the door and rustles me awake from a restless sleep. All night I've been fighting invisible demons. They're not real but that doesn't mean the toxin leaves no impression. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious and no clue at all to what time it is.

“First you shower. Then breakfast. Then group therapy.”

“Can I at least talk to a lawyer?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

“Afraid not, princess.”

“It’s Prentiss,” I snarl sharply.

“Whatever. Get up before I drag you outta that bed myself.”

I do as I’m told and walk ahead into the hallway in the direction of the shower room-

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” The guard asks.

“I’m going to the shower room,” I reply simply.

After getting a closer look I see the guy’s name tag reads “Baxton.” He gives me a funny expression.

“How do you-?”

“Arkham’s blueprints are available to any other mental facility,” I remark as I continue, my shoes squeaking against the clean tiles. “My position in Metropolis encouraged me to study significant documents so I memorized Arkham’s basic files. The shower room is down the hall to the right and then twenty paces north.”

“B- But I can’t-” Baxton sputters.

“I’m not allowed anywhere without supervision,” I finish for him. “I’m well aware of the rules. I promise not to cause a fuss until my patience is worn out.”

“How long-?”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out.” I shrug and slam the shower room door shut, locking me in with Lord-knows how many other maniacs. All I have left to defend myself with is my wits. I take a look around the room and see only a few other female inmates. They’re quiet… for now.

I do quick work to bathe and refresh myself, dressing in clean clothes laid out on the counter. I go back to the door to find Baxton waiting with an irked look.

“The cafeteria is thirty paces north. No need to show the way,” I say nonchalantly and strut down the hall. Every once in a while an inmate catcalls me or shouts for me to talk to him but every one of their shrill cries rolls off like rainwater. I’ve dealt with numerous lunatics. What’s a few more?

The cafeteria looks similar to the one in Metropolis except that this one has one important difference: there’s bars between the inmates and the kitchen staff. 

“This is where I leave ya, princess,” Baxton says and walks away, twirling his baton.

I cringe. “It’s Prentiss.”

“You’ll get used to it,” a woman’s voice says.

The voice’s source is a lone inmate sitting at a corner table with a potted plant. At first I have to do a double-take to make sure I’m not seeing things. But it’s confirmed. This woman is green. Literally green. She’s woven multiple different plants into her prison uniform and even into her red hair. And her skin. Her skin is green. Is she feeling sick?

“Before you ask, no, I’m not seasick. It’s the plant and animal-based toxins into my bloodstream.” The woman holds out a hand and I shake cautiously. “Dr. Pamela Isley. Well, not doctor anymore. I lost that when I was admitted here.”

“How did you qualify for Arkham?” I ask carefully, not wanting to sound rude. “You seem level-headed.”

The woman chuckles. “You’re not too bad yourself. I’m here because my last scheme was ‘overly inhumane,’ if you call wanting to fill Gotham City Hall with venus fly traps inhumane.”

“Um, that’s not exactly a reasonable plan. What do you think is the problem from your perspective?”

Isley’s eyes flash. “That sounds like therapy talk. Did Quinzel send you in?”

Her sudden hostility makes me go stiff. “No, not at all. I am- was a psychiatrist, but now I’m locked up here because they couldn’t keep me quiet.”

Isley calms. “A whistleblower, huh? You’re right. They would lock someone up for something like that. Sit down, sit down!” She waves me over and I join her at the wobbling table. 

I notice her lack of a food tray. “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

Isley snorts. “The food here is far from being considered edible. I get most of my energy from the sun lamps and my babies provide me with all the nutrients I need.”

Her babies? Don’t question it, Calico. Just go with it.

“You mentioned someone named Quinzel. That wouldn’t happen to be Harleen Quinzel, would it? I met her at a convention in Central City.”

Isley nods. “She’s one of the youngest doctors here. Just started last year. You’ll meet her later. Has Crane come to see you yet?”

The name is a slap in the face that refreshes my memory of last night’s events. So far there haven’t been any more hallucinations, leading me to believe the toxin has left my system.

“He did last night. Mask and all.”

“Ah yes, the mask.” Isley rolls her eyes. “Did he try to get you to say your worst fear?”

“If you don’t mind I’d rather not talk about it. I know my fear and don’t want to reminisce over it. I’ve been doing that for the past year.” I look up to face Isley directly. “Have you been dosed yet?”

She snickers and lazily waves it off. “Honey no poison or toxin works on me. Crane doesn’t even bother to test it on me anymore. You’re saying it didn’t work much on you either? That would explain why he’s been in a sour mood all morning.”

Scree! Scree!

An alarm flashes throughout the room and the guards start gathering everyone up.

“Chow time is over, people! Get back to your cells! The rest of you get to group therapy!”

Already? Time must pass differently when you’re in prison. Isley gets up and starts walking to the back door.

“You’re probably in group therapy with me.”

“I don’t need therapy. I need a lawyer.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Ah, I get it. You think you don’t belong in here either. Well here’s the bad news: nobody cares. All anyone cares about is that they get paid and we stay quiet.”

It’s worse than I thought. It’s one thing for wealthy officials to be corrupted but it’s deeper than that. If anything, each and every person in Gotham is under someone else’s thumb.

“Do we go see Crane now?” I ask Isley. “Does he conduct group therapy?”

“Heavens, no. Crane only does personal consultations with patients he finds interesting. He’s sulking in his office right now.”

Baxton has returned. He ushers Isley and me to the door. I follow her down a drafty narrow passage into a small room with fluorescent lights. A circle of chairs has been arranged in front of a whiteboard. We’re not the first ones here. A man wearing glasses is muttering to himself and when he sees me his eyes go wide with delight.

“A new face! Perfect! Riddle me this: I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?”

“Can it, Nigma,” Isley pushes him. “You don’t need to freak the newbie out on the first day with your childish-”

“The human brain.”

Both Isley and the riddle man look at me with open-jawed surprise. Before they can respond the door opens and an older woman wearing a white lab coat enters. Her bob cut and soft eyes allow me to relax a tad. This is my chance to talk my way out!

“Good morning everyone. Allow me to introduce myself to our newest arrival. I’m Dr. Joan Leland. What’s your name?”

This is it.

“I’m Dr. Calico Prentiss, from Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution in Metropolis. Please ma’am, you have to let me speak to a lawyer. There is no proof of me ever having poor mental health.”

Dr. Leland sits back with an attentive expression but makes no move to approve my request.

“Thank you for sharing, Calico. Would anyone else like to introduce themselves?”

“B- But what about-?”

“Nobody cares, Callie,” Isley reminds me. “She’ll just sit here with a cheap smile plastered on her face until the hour’s over.”

The riddle man laughs. “I am unpredictable, but you still rely on me. My installments give you the experience of life for free. I offer no refunds, returns, or exchanges. What am I?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s time. Can we get back to the subject?”

But we don’t. Instead Leland makes us write down our regrets. I do what’s expected and write the usual BS- I wish I was more social, I wish I accomplished more goals, blah blah blah. The whole time Isley keeps stroking the potted plant in her lap and the riddle guy keeps asking me questions. At the end of the session Leland has us all play Minecraft, a game that’s incredibly overrated and gives me a splitting headache.

“How are video games group therapy?” I ask, frustrated after getting stuck underground.

“It shows how you can handle anger.”

Definitely a new therapeutic technique. The surprisingly tense game goes on for another ten minutes until Leland ends the session. Once she’s gone Isley pats me on the back.

“Not bad for your first day.”

“Why aren’t there more inmates in the group?” I ask.

“Croc’s in solitary and Tetch is in the hospital wing for food poisoning,” the man with the glasses informs me.

Ivy clears her throat. “Now it’s time for proper introductions, since you’ve earned my trust. My friends call me Poison Ivy.”

Poison Ivy. That’s why she looks familiar. The green skin, the plants, everything. About a year ago there was a news story about a botanist who surrounded the Gotham waste facility with thorns and vines. I should count my blessings. Out of all the Gotham criminals I could run into, Ivy seems like a potential ally.

“My name is Nigma, Edward Nigma,” the riddle man gives my hand a shake. 

“Calls himself the Riddler,” Ivy explains. “For obvious reasons.”

“What belongs to you, but others will use it?”

“Nigma, really?” Ivy drones.

“It’s your name,” I reply in an even voice. 

Nigma’s smile widens. “Exactly! Bravo, princess!”

Another cringe jerks through my body and I flash a warning look. “It’s Prentiss.”

The man gets an ‘a-ha’ moment. “Ah, I see. The use of pet names must trigger unpleasant memories for you. Perhaps abuse? Rape? Neglectful childhood-? Christ!”

Nigma’s guessing is cut off when my fist collides with his nose. I’m almost as surprised as Ivy. Why am I letting this man’s taunting curiosity get to me? I’ve dealt with tougher jabs than this. Crane’s toxin must have taken a bigger toll than I thought.

Nigma holds his nose and patches it up while Ivy can’t stop smiling.

“You had it coming, Nigma.” Ivy shrugs. “She just has the guts to do what we’ve been wanting to do since day 1.”

Nigma rolls his eyes. “It’s not my fault life’s full of questions, Ms. Isley. Apologies, Calico.” He blots the blood off his jumpsuit. “At least this new Batman character seems like a worthy opponent. I shall concoct a glorious cornucopia of riddles for when I escape.”

Batman? What’s he talking about? What kind of lunatic…?

“When?” Ivy interrupts my train of thought. “Don’t you mean if?”

“I know what I said, Isley. It’s only a matter of time.”

She huffs. “No chance you’ll let us in on your little crime spree?”

Nigma doesn’t answer right away. He seems to be deep in thought and after a while he jumps up to scribble something on a scrap piece of paper with a small pen. We’re not allowed utensils so he must have smuggled it in.

“What say you, Prentiss? Ready to get out?”

Don’t hold a grudge, Calico. Remember you’re in a mental asylum. Edward’s just being nice, in his own weird way.

“To quote from Ivy, I’ve been ready since day 1. But I have more personal and sane means of escape.” I stand up and walk back to lean against the wall, my eyes glaring through Nigma’s skull. “Watch your back, Nigma. Pry into my psychosis again and I’ll make your life a living nightmare.”

“Isn’t that Crane’s job?”

I shrug casually. “Who’s to say a few doses of fear toxin won’t go missing and end up in your cologne bottle?”

“While I do appreciate the motive,” the professor of fear himself walks into the room and I feel my heart rate double. “And am honored that you would use my toxin for revenge, I must require that you ask for it nicely, Ms. Prentiss.”

Crane and I lock in a cold stare that goes uninterrupted until Nigma claps his hands with fake enthusiasm.

“Oh, look. Dr. Lunatic is back.”

Crane sighs and looks down at Nigma with annoyment. Clearly a silent battle of brains is brewing between the two. Ivy seems to know it as well.

“Admit it, John. You’re just as sick as the rest of us.”

The lanky doctor pinches the bridge of his nose and goes on to look through the clipboard he’s carrying. “Correction, I use my own unique genius to my advantage instead of creating mindless riddles.”

Edward puts a hand to his heart. “Ouch. What’s got you riled up, sack-head?”

“Have you seen the news?” Crane sees my confused expression and gets a wicked smirk. “Oh, right. No outside sources. Well, there’s a new face in Gotham. A masked vigilante the reporters are calling Batman.”

I set my jaw straight. He can belittle me with my outdated information all he wants. “Another mask? Sounds like your type.”

My comment flies over his head. Ivy and Nigma both share the same muffled chuckle. I’m beginning to take a liking to these inmates. Yes their ideas are insane to say the least but their laid-back take on life in Arkham makes up for it.

[lemccr]

Previous Articles 1, 2

Plants, Potholes, and Poison Ivy

An article by Julia Remarque

A new trend has come to our very own Gotham City: the trend of ‘putting plants in potholes that have not been fixed by the city’, which recently became popularized by a man down in Florida who put a banana tree in a pothole in protest of the lack of road care and maintenance. And while this is a mostly harmless prank in other locations and cities, this is a much more dangerous thing to put into practice here, as we are home to the leading plant-themed villain and activist, Dr. Pamela Isley. 

The GCPD released this statement: “Folks, while we understand the disappointment in our roads’ current conditions, we ask that—instead of planting flowers—you would instead send a message to the hotline we’ve set up for reporting potholes and we will send a crew out to fix it. We ask for your patience in this as we are not able to get to them all at the same time. We also ask that, if you see any plants in potholes, that you please remove them and bring them over to Robinson Park where Ivy has graciously offered space for them to be planted and cared for.”

Now that I’ve gotten the official business out of the way, I’d like to remind those of you doing this that Ivy can control plants and you were just giving her more ammunition . And second, every Gothamite worth their salt can dodge potholes while they’re driving. At this point, it’s a right of passage for every new driver in our city and a mandatory part of the Gotham City driving test. 

Instead of taking our anger on this matter out at our roads teams, who can only work so fast, I would instead point towards every vigilante—and villain—whose fights have caused the majority of these potholes, with their reckless driving, bombs, the tank called the Batmobile, all the different R-cycles, the lasers from when Metropolis’s golden boy flies into our city uninvited, and every unprovoked alien attack. 

I say that payment for our new pavement should come from the pocket of our so-called protectors.

[secondgenerationnerd]

happy valentine's day! i hope you know how much i love your content! can we get some little lucy n her moms for v-day? if not it's fine! wishing you the best :)

D’aw, happy Valentine’s Day! I’d love to write something for Lucy and Her moms, but I’m doing older Lucy. Show off their dynamic as she gets bigger and more sarcastic 😂😂

——————————

“Oooooo, you look nice, Ma!” Lucy looks up from her skates. Her mother adjusts the hot pink skirt, clearly feeling herself in the clothes. Lucy knows they’re stolen and really can’t seem to care. Not like the person missed them.

“Thank ya, baby.” Harley leans over the couch, kissing her daughter’s head, “Your Mom’s takin’ me on a hot date. ‘Course any date with her is a hot date.”

“Ma, don’t be gross.”

“Petal, you didn’t seem to think it’s gross when you were little.” Pamela muses, coming out of the bedroom, heels clicking along the hardwood floor. The black skintight dress highlights her green skin.

“That’s because I was a dumb kid that didn’t know what sex or flirting was. You look great, Mom.”

“Thank you, sweet pea.” Pamela kisses Lucy’s head, “And don’t pretend like we don’t know about Rani Carter.”

To her credit, Lucy doesn’t give them any of the usual signs of embarrassment—just a light blush over her cheeks, “I have no idea what ya talkin’ ‘bout, Mom. Where are you two goin’ for dinner?”

“Interesting deflection, Dr. Quinzel. Your thoughts?”

Doing little to hide her grin, Harley taps her chin, “Well, Dr. Isley, I would classify this as typical teenage behavior, yet there are other signs this could be more serious.”

“More serious?”

“Yes. She might have a crush.”

Lucy gathers her skate tools, “Hate to break it to ya, Mothers of Mine, but I ain’t looking for a relationship. Rani and I have an arrangement that works for us.”

“Ah, yes, keeping the relationship purely physically as a way to satisfy half your needs, even though you crave that emotional connection.” Harley looks solemnly at her wife, “It’s worse than we feared.”

“Will you let me be a slut in peace?” Lucy huffs. Her moms laugh and pull her into a hug.

“We just want you happy, petal. That’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah, you two go make goo goo eyes at each other. I’ll be here with the plants and Hyenas.” Lucy does hug them back before heading to her room.

“If you want to invite Rani over, you can—“

“MA!”

As they step onto the elevator, Pamela glances at her wife, “What are the chances she’s talking to her now?”

“Oh, 100%.”

[neonponders]

I am once again thinking thoughts that have nothing to do with Harringrove but ever since I saw the new Batman, I’ve been eager to see a new rendition of Poison Ivy, and here we are:

It would start with Batman investigating new criminal activity and very quickly uncovering that the petty criminals are paid by a MUCH bigger crime syndicate. Bruce is able to figure out that this organization is very good about loose ends - except one.

There’s one person alive who used to work for them, and she’s in Arkham Asylum.

Bruce visits Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (if you’ve read my Harringrove stuff, you know I LOVE naming Billy’s mom Lillian, but that’s a tangent) and is immediately...confused. Intrigued. Also acutely sympathetic because it’s very clear that she’s being treated extremely unethically.

He feigns that he’s there to visit Joker, but he makes a point to walk by her cell, and she’s right there by the door, leaning against it like she has trouble standing. “You...sm-smell like...berg-gamot an-nd...vanilla-la-la amber...”

As she addresses him, he can tell she also has trouble speaking. Almost as if her jaw is wired shut. Her words are too stiff, but she does her best to speak to him, accurately identifying Bruce Wayne’s cologne.

Bruce takes a chance. Does something no one should ever do. He reaches into her cell to grip her face - she lets him - and he realigns her jaw with the same chiropractic touch Alfred has used on him throughout his life. The crack is audible and alarming. Even more so, is her tired and relieved, “Thank you...”

Bruce assumes that she’s in Arkham to slowly die away. Put there by the syndicate, and brutally disabled to stay quiet. He does something that will really bite him later on because by sneaking her out of Arkham, he is telling criminals that there’s a way to escape Arkham.

He does a blood test on her in the bat cave and sees all the chemicals she’s sedated under. It’s a wonder she was coherent enough to stand, let alone talk to him, so he takes Dr. Isley up to Alfred. Logically, the man is extremely dubious of Bruce’s reasoning.

“First Selena and now Dr. Pamela? I suppose your preferences are upgrading.”

“Just fix her. Someone went through a lot of trouble to make her a broken mannequin.”

So in the Gothic cave of the Wayne study, the heart of Bruce and Alfred alike, he connects Dr. Isley to fluids as well as a catheter. When she opens her eyes, not quite conscious but still able to listen, Alfred talks to her.

“Dr. Pamela? My name is Alfred. I am not a doctor, but I have unofficial training in various methods. You need a full bodied realignment of your bones and soft tissue work. Do I have your permission to work on you?”

It’s a huge thing to ask, after she’s spent years at the hands of malicious practitioners. It does not escape Alfred’s notice that she only responds after Bruce walks behind her, sending a breeze of scent around her. She inhales, blinks groggily and exhales, “Please.”

So begins a long process of healing. Alfred’s initial adjustments are few and painful. Neither he nor Bruce are willing to give her more chemicals, so she has to undergo everything in full effect. This would be a montage of Alfred and Pamela in the stark lighting of the massive window in that room, giving the gothic study a cave-like presence. Pamela goes from lying on the table, and then an elevated chaise lounge, and then standing at a ballet bar Alfred had moved in for physical therapy.

If it weren’t for the audience’s anticipation for how this character becomes a villain, this is otherwise a very heartwarming evolution and growth of her character. It places her in a sisterly position next to Bruce, who remains distant once she’s fully awake.

His absence is not without productivity. Bruce has been busy this whole time figuring out who is in the mysterious crime organization and Dr. Isley’s files that he stole from Arkham are as much helpful as they are shrouding. They’ve obviously been tampered with. He presumes they’re full of lies to justify her being there, but one thing they did not think to lie about: her address.

He goes to her suburban home just outside of the city. It’s not irregular for people with families to live outside of the city center, but Bruce had the impression that Pamela didn’t have a family.

The house proves differently. It’s been abandoned. For some reason, it never went back up on the market. Instead, it’s been left as a time capsule from the day she was taken from her home -

Bruce is attacked by a woman in the house. A woman that Bruce’s scanners immediately identify as Dr. Eden Mahmud. Her hair is clearly reddish from henna dye, and after he placates her with reassurances that he’s not there to hurt her. He thought this was the home of Dr. Isley - 

“It is. She was my wife.”

- and this is where the audience is meant to wonder.....who is Poison Ivy here? This woman with reddish hair fits the bill more, but the literal namesake is currently recovering in the Wayne penthouse...

The house is full of thriving plants even if the yard has been left to dry up or overgrow. Bruce admits that he should have expected someone to be here when he first smelled fresh air instead of stale dust.

Dr. Eden Mahmud is shrewd, high energy compared to MCR loving Bruce, and is supposed to be dead. He says as much. “I thought your lab burnt down in a fire.”

“Now why would a botanist’s lab burn down? Plants need water, not fire.”

“Because you’re not a botanist. Dr. Isley is. You’re a biochemist.”

His use of present tense changes Eden’s demeanor. “Where is she? She’s dead.”

“She’s as dead as you are,” Bruce reassures, but not without leverage. “You can see her if you tell me why you’re in hiding, and why she was in Arkham.”

Naturally, she doesn’t trust him. Bruce offers her Pamela’s files in Arkham. “Take it as a token of trust. I can reset her career. Both of your careers and erase the lies about you both. But I need the truth first.”

Eden doesn’t talk. Instead, she gives him a USB. “If you’re so smart, then you’ll be able to figure it out. But I wonder how strict you draw the lines between legal and criminal, Mr. Vigilante.”

She has a point, because he takes the file to the bat cave, where he and Alfred watch security footage of the lab that the wives shared. 

The film would cut to a flashback where Pamela comes home looking like a beautiful bisexual arriving to the chaos of her lesbian wife in the middle of trying to home-dye her hair. Henna is all over the kitchen, leaving a trail to the bathroom, where Pamela arrives to soothe, “Want some help?”

Their lives as happy wives segue to functional (sometimes arguing) colleagues, and then evolve into the footage that Bruce and Alfred are watching.

The camera is pointed to shelves of plants illuminated by solar lights, while counters and fridges of biochemistry take up the rest of the lab. Alfred and Bruce watch in horror as Eden’s research becomes too powerful, but it’s Pamela who was in the lab when men came to collect the bioweapon she had accidentally made.

Alfred walks away, unable to watch the sounds of Pamela getting beaten up and worse. A beautiful woman surrounded by malicious men? The direction that the footage is going is meant to be obvious and deeply uncomfortable...

But Alfred comes back to the screen when the sounds of her fear change to sounds of fury and male agony. Pamela found an opening and clearly knows how to fight, because she’s taking them out one by one. It’s clear that the men were just there to do a job, but she goes absolutely feral with defensive rage. Pamela kills them all, and reveals a weapon of her own: a compost machine for her plants. She turns the bodies into plant food, and the footage montages into the plants growing, bursting out of their pots and overtaking the lab.

At this point, Bruce and Alfred can’t tell who is more dangerous: Eden, or Pamela. However the crime organization wants Eden, and Pamela was kept alive in the hopes that slow torture would make her spill. Alfred congratulates Bruce on capturing the greatest and most dangerous bargaining chip since he has the means to control both Eden and hell, so to speak. (Or maybe the crime organization is also a play one words so it’s Eden vs. Hell, etc.)

Naturally, things don’t go according to plan. The rest fo the film would be about Bruce, Eden, and Pamela working together and it would be great, seeing Bruce with something a lot like friends, and the audience’s anticipation would still be going because something has to pit these poison ivies against him, right?

The film’s denouement is the crime organization getting dismantled and this huge mob organization in Gotham is uncovered for further movies to deal with. It’s like conquering Goliath only to realize that Goliath has a whole family that must be dealt with now.

But Batman thanks Eden and the newly invigorated Pamela by reuniting them and getting their promises to work their geniuses on helping people or a new career entirely. They both have a nest egg to sit back on and it’s a humorous/hopeful scene where Eden’s like, “You won’t see us for a long time, if at all. Our favorite band is going on tour. We’ve been wanting to try following a musical tour and now’s a good time.”

Batman wishes them well in his awkward way. The closest thing to a concert that this angsty boy has ever been to is a choir or orchestral performance. It’s heart wrenching in a way because Pamela spares a moment to invite him, but he refuses. She doesn’t pressure him in any way, even though it goes unsaid that he’d have to go as a civilian, not as Batman. Therefore revealing his face to her and Eden.

The first concert date is in Gotham’s arena venue. It’s a huge affair and everyone’s hyped. Eden’s red, henna hair glows in the stage lights. She and Pamela are dancing and thriving with the rest of the audience. They kiss, it’s wonderful. Honestly a queer dream come true to love and let love in a cathedral of music and mayhem...

Confetti rains over the crowd...but Pamela lifts her face to smell...petals. It’s not confetti, but flower petals. She frowns because...spraying organic plant material over an audience is dangerous for various allergy reasons, but that is the most mundane reason she has the time to think of.

As she catches some of the petals in her hand, there’s a flash of a blossom in her old lab. Her carnivorous, high-iron consuming plants only blossomed once. She only got to see those flowers one time, and the audience only sees them this one time. A flash of warning. Of origin.

The stage explodes.

The musicians are dead. Members of the audience die. Many more get trampled in the panic to leave the arena. Pamela is lucky to get knocked to the ground and kicked behind a large piece of stage shrapnel. She isn’t able to stand until more of the arena clears out. Things are on fire and sparks are flying. A police helicopter flies overhead, casting a stark spotlight over the scene as Pamela finds where they were standing. She finds Eden’s dark red hair and excavates her body from the wreckage and other bodies.

The irony is that Eden’s hair may be red, but Pamela has head wounds, dripping red over her face as she presses her fingertips into Eden’s throat. Feels the dead silence of her pulse. She holds her wife’s body in a sea of petals, and when she finally lets Eden go, Pamela pushes her hair back with Eden’s blood on her hands. Whatever color hair she had, brunette, blond, black, whatever, it gets slicked back with glistening blood.

It’s now clear how Dr. Isley becomes Poison Ivy. The audience finishes the movie with the knowledge that Pamela was just a botanist who likes plants (albeit with some dark experimentation) and Eden, her literal and figurative garden paradise, is murdered.

* * *

The next movie starts right after the concert with a discussion between Pamela and Batman on how the crime syndicate may be dismantled, but they’re still strong. They’re showing off that they successfully stole Eden’s bioweapon, because everyone at the concert is ill and dying from a fungal infection. However Pamela is distinctly fine. This does not go unnoticed by Bruce or the observers of the criminal organization.

Both want to know how Pamela is immune, but Pamela begs Bruce to be a bit more nefarious because, “If you’re going to war, you have to meet War where he stands. You can’t pussy foot around it! You either meet it head on or you hide till the storm’s gone. Are you hiding or fighting?”

This is of course an allusion to Selena, and Bruce doesn’t take it well. He lashes back and Pamela finishes the discussion with, “Okay, Bruce,” but it’s so quiet that he and the audience are not even sure they heard correctly. This might not get answered until the very end, where we get a flashback of this scene and Bruce more clearly hears, “Okay, Bruce,” and then Alfred walks in.

Alfred provides some outright elaboration, “Maybe bringing a genius spouse of a bioweapon designer to your home was not the best idea.”

So Pamela knows who Batman is. Eden is dead and the only one who knows how the weapon works AND how to be immune to it is no longer an ally to Batman.

[ I can elaborate on my Poison Ivy’s story, but I’ll stop here haha]

[librarygoth]

Detective Comics (2011) #27 Gothtopia: Scarecrow releases a toxic gas in Gotham that has the whole city under its thrall. Poison Ivy, who is immune to its effects, and Batman, who shakes it off when presented with evidence of poison in his bloodstream, team up to save Gotham from Scarecrow and his nightmare gas experiments.


In this story, Batman is the one who comes up with an antidote, using the natural toxins Ivy’s body produces, a choice undoubtedly made by the writer out of a need to depict Batman as a hero, as an example of idealized masculinity, strong and intelligent and capable of anything. Except Batman becomes entirely unnecessary to this narrative when you consider that Poison Ivy is Dr. Pamela Isley, a brilliant botanist and biochemist in her own right, an incredibly intelligent woman, who would not scream at people on the streets of Gotham to wake up, but rather would recognize immediately that her immunity pointed to some type of poison, who would on her own likely research and formulate an antidote. Instead, Ivy is depicted as a woman in hysterics whose only contributions to the creation of an antidote are bodily; she gives Batman her (poisonous) kiss so that her toxins can protect him from the Scarecrow’s, and she contributes her poison and her pheromones to an antidote but not her mind. When Batman breaks her out of Arkham to use her body for an antidote, it is framed has him rescuing her.


Overall, the Gothtopia story arc represents an instance where a woman who has a particular area of expertise and a meta human power is ignored for her abilities and utilized solely for her body, all to allow a male hero to shine where he hasn’t earned the right to. And indeed, you may notice a panel above that is drawn very strategically to center Ivy’s body, one that places her ass front and center in a way no one would ever dare draw Batman or another man. 
Batman’s heroism in this narrative is derived in part from his idealized masculinity, the fact that he is so strong of mind and resolute that he can shake himself out of his toxin induced delusions. This means that he cannot be upstaged by a woman because if a woman is smart and strong and resolute, she is embodying qualities Batman is meant to embody. Of course, those are not inherently masculine qualities, of course strength and intelligence and resilience are not gendered. But those traits are typically seen as belonging to men, and therefore a woman’s possession of them can be viewed as a cheapening of their value when expressed by a hero like Batman. Especially when the woman possessing them is someone like Poison Ivy, someone who has historically been depicted as a villain, and more recently as a conflicted anti-hero.


Frequently in comics, writers decide that men cannot be capable or heroic unless women are incapable or villainous–the basis of manhood in comic worlds often relies on differentiation from women, as if men and women are inherent opposites or competitors. And because this world is patriarchal, because many of these narratives are being written by men, for the men to win, it becomes imperative that the women lose. This particular story is not capable of recognizing that there doesn’t need to be a winner or a loser, it isn’t capable of recognizing that a woman having certain strengths does not mean a man having those same deficiencies. In fact, they’re terrified of the possibility. So instead of taking that risk, Gothtopia places Poison Ivy in the position of a sidekick because it knows that if she was allowed to take centerstage, by the rules this story crated for itself, Batman would be obsolete.

[forlornmelody]

Trust Exercise

Rating: E (Smut with some plot, for flavor.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: Harley wants to try something new, but Ivy isn't sure her girlfriend is ready to see that part of her.

Note: Commission for @rookie009. Dude, thank you so much for commissioning me again. And insisting I write my faves. <3

->->->

Ivy’s in the lab when Harley finds her, nose-deep in an experiment she’s been running all day. “Oh, hey, babe. Did you get my text?”

“Mmhm.” Harley’s hands grasp her shoulders, her fingers meandering past the collar of her lab coat. 

“So, you know that I can’t do date night tonight.” Harley’s lips find her cheek, then her ear, and the tissue culture Ivy’s been working on for the past hour slips from her fingers. 

“Sure you can.” Her lips meander down her neck, as Ivy stares at the ruined culture with both horror and... arousal. Something hot roils in her belly, and Ivy stifles it as she turns around. 

“Harley. How many times do I have to tell you--”

“Mm. You’re even more pretty when you’re angry.” Harley grabs Ivy by the lapel of her lab coat, pulling her in for a kiss. The jungle surrounding the lab roils as if shaken in a gale force wind. 

Ivy breathes her in, and pushes her back, holding her girlfriend at arm’s length. “Harl, if you want me to tie you up, you only need to ask.”

Harley flushes, biting her lip as she glances away. Ivy draws her attention back with a finger under her chin. “Do you want me to tie you up?”

“Ives…”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel, I promise you I won’t ask again.”

“Yes!” Harley says quickly.

“Yes, what?”

“Tie me up.” Harleen swallows, her tongue darting out to wet her lip. 

“And?”

Her skin blushes pink as one of her pigtails, and Ivy almost doesn’t hear her. 

“What?”

“I said use your vines.”

“You sure?” The words fall out of Ivy’s mouth before she realizes what she’s asking. Sure, she’s usually the dominant one in bed--Ivy knows what she likes and how to ask for it. But this...Damnit, Pamela. What if this is too much? What if being tied up and used reminds her too much of…. Ivy doesn’t even think his name. She just conjures up an image in her head and sets it on fire. 

“Ives?” Harley says, her eyes widening and her mouth shrinking into a small oh. 

“Sorry?” 

“You okay, Pam-a-lamb?” Harley brushes her thumb across Ivy’s cheek, pushing a wisp of hair out of the way. God, she must look like a mess right now. 

“Of course!” she lies, and a nearby fittonia albivenis wilts in protest. Charlie, as she liked to call him, always is a dramatic asshole. “Go on.”

“You sure? Cause George doesn’t look so good.”

“Charlie.” Ivy sighs, rubbing her forehead.  “His name is Charlie.” She nods over at the opposite corner, where a helianthus annuus, commonly known as a sunflower, is giving her a judgmental stare. “That’s George.” 

“Daisy Girl...if the plants are upset, you must be upset.” Harley Quinn leans closer, so Ivy has to meet her eyes. “You can’t lie to a therapist, remember?”

“I can try,” Ivy mutters. 

“I know you too well, Pam-jam. Now tell me what’s eatin’ ya.”

Now, Doctor Pamela Isley could uncover her sordid history with her parents, charm school, the nice conservative respectable university her parents sent her off to--the one she dropped out of and ran away from, the respectable open minded one she graduated from, the mentor who ruined her and created her, and the day they met in Arkham, but Harley already knows she doesn’t dump her past out of the trash can for everyone to see, especially when there’s a bed in sight, metaphorically speaking. God, what a buzzkill that would be. “I want to believe you, Harls. When you say you want this.” Ivy presses her thumb into Harley’s bottom lip. “But how do I know you’re not just saying this to make me happy?” Like she always would with...well. 

“Easy. You trust me.”

Does she? 

The powder-mix lemonade crashes against the opposite wall, barely missing her therapist’s head. “Stop fucking analyzing me. I’m not your rat.”

Dr. Quinzel doesn’t defend herself or argue against the insult. “You’ve good aim.” She does, however, flinch. Something twists in Ivy’s gut. At first, she thinks the Morton’s cafeteria slop has turned sour yet again, but Ivy notices the feeling runs deeper this time, and it spreads like frost throughout her middle, all the way to her lungs. “Softball?”

Fucking hell. She’s feeling remorse. “Gymnastics.” The answer spills out of Ivy’s mouth before she can stop it. 

And then Dr. Quinzel’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Me too! Did you compete? Which team?” 

Ivy spills some more, and they swap memories, apparently having crossed paths without remembering the other at one point or another. Not that Dr. Quinzel would have ever recognized Dr. Pamela Isley when she was a tween with braces and an awkward smile. Or Dr. Isley would have remembered Dr. Quinzel was a spirited overachiever with a chip on her shoulder. Actually, Pamela takes that back. She can see some of it now. She also notices Dr. Quinzel’s hands intertwined with her own. And the warmth between them. 

 “Please, call me Harleen.” Harleen smiles shyly, biting her lip. 

Ivy gulps. “Do all your patients get to call you that?”

And just like that the moment’s gone. But Ivy’s hands feel warm long after Dr. Isley has left the room. 

->->->

Ivy should have known this was a set up. The security guard missing from his post. The alarms turned off. The dark room where the lights should have had motion sensors and generator backup. She should have turned back the moment she noticed, but she couldn’t leave this warehouse like this. Not with one of two middlemist camellias sitting inside, ripped from its soil in New Zealand and brought to Gotham for a filthy auction.

The moment Ivy touches the leaves the door slams shut behind her, and she notices the sealant sprayed on all the windows. Oh no. A hose hisses on the floor, and Ivy slowly feels the air being sucked from the room. No. No. No. Not like this.

There’s no chair, no bat, nothing to break the windows with. Just Dr. Pamela Isley and the lonely Middlemist’s Red that will die with her. Pam closes her eyes, and tries not to hyperventilate, counting her breaths just like Harley taught her—

“NOT TODAY ASSHATS.” Glass shards rain on the floor, and an alluminum bat clangs against the concrete floor. “Pambsel?” Soft fingers touch her shoulder. “Ivy? Come on, Ivy. Stay with me.”

“Ivy?” Harley’s staring at her in their bedroom, her eyebrows lifted in concern.

“I trust you more than anyone else.”

Harley brushes her lips against hers. “And I trust you more than a stripper trusts her heels.”

“God.” Ivy chortles despite herself. “That’s terrible, Harley. Maybe I should keep you from talking.” Those words sound so...different once they’re out of her mouth. Like cinnamon candy burning on her lips. 

For once, Harleen Francis Quinnzel has nothing to say. Her mouth hangs slightly open, to the point that Ivy wants to trace it with her fingertip, maybe slip her finger past those lips to see Harley suck on— “Would you?” Harley whispers, blushing as pink as one of her pigtails. 

“I’d love to.” It’s a little unnerving how easily this comes to her. “But there’s only one thing.”

“What’s that?” Harley leans closer, her hands grasping at Ivy’s clothes, pleading without pleading. 

“What’s our safe-word?”

“Puddin’?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Batman?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, Pretty Girl. You’re killin’ me here.”

“It has to be a word we both agree to, Harley. Rules are rules.”

“Says who?” Harley leans in close, her hands on her hips. 

Ivy smirks at her, whispering in her ear. “Says the woman who is about to give you a night you won’t forget.”

At this point, Ivy half expects Harley to say Arkham, but she doesn’t. “Robinson Park.” 

It’s Ivy’s turn to lose her words. Of course, Harley would name her old hideout. Well. Not just any old hideout. The place where they first kissed. “That’s--that’s two words.”

Harley grins proudly, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “Does that break the rules, Rosey Cheeks?”

Ivy allows it. She also allows herself to check with Harley several times as she persuades a nearby pharnera vahili to stretch towards them. The plant balks initially at the thought of making its flower buds large enough to penetrate, but Ivy mutters a quiet “Coward” and the plant swells to prove her wrong. Perhaps Peter would be a fitting name for this one? Brushing the buds, she strengthens him, hardens them, really, and shoos any creatures or enzymes that would bring harm to her favorite person in the whole world. 

“Ready, Harley?”

Harley nods, biting a grin. 

Ivy steps towards her, pinching her chin between her finger and thumb. “If this is going to work, I’m going to need you to use your words, Harleen.”

“Yes.” Harley gulps a breath of air, and she closes her eyes as if she’s about to kiss her. 

Pulling out of her reach, Ivy returns to Peter, stroking a few tendrils, feigning more interest in them than her lover. “Then remove your shorts. I’d hate to ruin them.” 

“These always were your favorite, weren’t they, Red?”

Indeed, they are. “Perhaps.” Ivy can’t help but watch them slip down Harley’s cream-colored thighs. She itches to get between them but that will have to wait. “Now lay down.”

“But--”

“It’ll be easier to secure you from the bed, trust me.”

“Always.”

Again, that itch. That burning unyielding need to touch every inch of Harley’s skin, exposed or not. This is just as much an exercise in patience for her as it is for Harley. Ivy whisks her fingers, curling the vines around Harley’s wrists and ankles. “Is that comfortable?”

Harley nods quickly, only to see Ivy quirk her eyebrow impatiently. “Yes, Ives,” she says, her breath ragged. 

“How about now?” The vines lengthen and grow, suspending Harley’s prone body in the air. Ivy wishes she could draw how beautiful Harley looks like this, her mouth parted and arched back, her legs already flushes with need. 

“Amazing.” Harley closes her eyes. “I feel like I’m floating.” 

“And what is our safe word, again?”

Harley starts to say it, only for Ivy to brush between her calves with a tendril.

“That tickles!” 

“Don’t squirm.” Ivy smirks despite herself, stroking the inside of Harley’s legs, from the bottoms of her calves to the narrowest point between her thighs, edging around her center but never quite touching it. 

Twisting in her restraints, Harley groans. “Don’t tease me, Pam-Pam.”

“I believe you asked me to tease you. Isn’t that the point?” The tendril snakes past her middle, scratching under her chin. “To make you beg for it?”

“Please.” The vine edges back down, circling her warmth, now moist with the juices dripping down her legs. 

“Please what?”

“Touch me.” She pleads, seeing Ivy’s lips pressed in a thin line. “Touch my clit.”

“That’s my girl.” Ivy resists the urge to mirror the motion of her plant. Her own thighs twitch with want. Her vine grazes Harley’s lower lips, feather light in their touch, and Ivy aches at the whimper slipping from Harley’s mouth. She keeps circling with smaller and smaller circles until Harley shakes and keens. And that’s when she drags the vine against where Harley wants her most. 

“Oh fuck. Fuckity-fuck fuck.” Harley strains against her bonds, her hips writhing against the vine. 

Ivy licks her lips. “Would you like this vine inside you?”

“Mmhm...y-yeah.” Harley’s voice breaks on the edge of her first orgasm. 

Then Ivy pulls away.

“No, Ives, please. Please touch me. I’m--I’m so close.” 

“I know, Harl.” Ives steps around the now massive bulk Peter has grown into, caressing Harley’s own cheek with the back of her own hand. God, she wants to tear off all their clothes right now and just have her way, but she can’t. Not yet. “I’m going to give you something special.” One nail presses into Harley’s cheek, enough to indent, but enough to break the skin. “Would you like to know what it is?”

Sweat glistens around Harley’s hairline as she looks back at Ivy helplessly. “Yeah.” She manages. 

Shit. She must be thirsty. “Hold on.” She snatches a water bottle, holding it to Harley’s lips. “Drink some water.” Ivy doesn’t pull the bottle away until Harley’s finished it. She downs her tea. Then she rubs her fingers together, until oily spots form on her fingertips. “This oil will heighten your sensations. Do you want it?”

Harley can’t even form words at first, but she manages. “Please, Pammin-Jammin. I need you.”

Ivy also licks her lips, her entire mouth tasting like vegetable oil, but stronger. And the oil packs some heat. Not enough to burn, but enough that she’ll need to wash her mouth out later if she’s going to focus on anything. “I need you too, Harley.” She brushes her lips against Harley’s and want hits her like a gale-force wind. With the way Harley moans into her mouth--she feels that way too. Patience. Even the quickest-growing plants need time to breathe. 

Before Harley can deepen the kiss, Ivy trails her lips down her chin, her neck, and her collar bone. She massages her shoulders, her arms, then up her sides and back down again. Ivy kisses down to her chest, avoiding Harley’s already too sensitive tits and just focusing on the valley between them, pausing a moment to listen to her quickening heartbeat. Harley squirms, and Ivy holds her steady, paying careful attention to the planes of her abdomen. Her hands move around Harley’s hips, pinching either side of her ass, covering her thighs and in between. “Oh, Ivy.”

When Ivy finishes caressing Harley’s feet, she stands up to see Harley’s face caught like a saint in a Raphaelite painting. She guides her own hands around one of the tendrils, slowly, gently penetrating her as if she were using a dildo. And when the tendril is as far in as it’ll go, Ivy grins against her ear. “Ready?”

“Mmhm,” Harley whimpers. 

Ivy snaps her fingers, and the tendril takes on life of its own, pumping in and out of her lover without any guidance from her. 

“Fuck!” Harley gasps, her wrists twisting in her bonds as she seeks purchase to rock back against the vine. “Oh, fuck that’s good.”

Ivy finds her hands drifting down towards her legs. She clenches them behind her back to hold them still. Not yet. Focus on Harley. But focusing on her and how fucked she is seems to be part of Ivy’s problem. Licking her lips, she asks, “How do you feel about anal?”

“Mm?” Harley probably means to ask, but her mm sounds more like a moan than anything else. 

Making a point of rolling her eyes, Ivy snaps her fingers a second time, and the vine pulls out of her. 

“No no no. Please. I was almost…”

“I asked you a question, Harl.” Ivy growls, more from arousal than annoyance, but Harley’s eyes widen.

“What was the question?”

“Do you.” Ivy grips Harley’s chin. “Like. Anal sex?”

 Harley’s eyes brighten and her frown morphs into an ecstatic smile. “Double penetration?” She bites her lip. “Would you?”

“I’d love to. But first.” Ivy pulls out a familiar bottle--her own recipe. She squirts a generous amount on her fingers, and ringing a circle around Harley’s butt hole, and then little by little, probing inside with her finger. “Good girl,” she whispers in Harley’s ear. Her lover starts to tense up, and Ivy holds her hip firmly with her other hand. “Relax. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever known, and you have done the impossible time and time again.” 

“You...you really think t-that?”

“I know that, Harley.” Her finger gets pulled deeper inside, and Ivy works her open gently, as Harley’s eyes glaze over and her mouth drops open. “And tonight, I’m going to make you feel how amazing you are. Do you trust me?”

“Mm. Y-yeah.”

“Then you’re gonna take more for me.” Ivy whispers, taking Harley’s lobe between her teeth. Harley shudders and nods, and Ivy, slowly, gently, and with more oil, adds a second finger. 

“Nn--Ivy, Oh god. Please. I--I need.”

“Need what?”

“More.” 

“More what?”

Harley moans--whimpers in reply, “I---make me come,” she begs, sprawled in mid-air, and Ivy raises her free hand to pull the prepared vines. “Pam-Pam, please.” She croaks. “Please, Pamela.”

The vine droops just inches from Harley’s hips.

“Pamela Isley!” Mrs. Saint-Claire always pops the p in Pamela’s name, and spittle flies out of her mouth. How many times do I have to tell you!” Those skeletal hands jerk her shoulders back. “Back straight! Like a puppet on a string!” Pam’s so tired. She just wants to go home. Well, maybe not home. “And smile for once! It won’t kill you.” Mrs. Saint-Claire yanks her wild curls into a peppy poiny tail. “How are you going to win a man like this?”

“Pam-pam?” Harley’s looking back at her, her eyes still dark with want and pleasure, but her eyebrows are lifted in concern.

Maybe Ivy should hold back, more. What if she goes too far? But Harley would tell her. She’d say the word. She doesn’t pretend, not in bed, not unless that’s...well. Maybe it would be nice to pretend. A different time, perhaps. 

“I’m still here,” Pamela says more to herself than Harley, and she refreshes that vine until it’s erect and moving again. “Are you?” She coats the vine slick with oil, and she slips her fingers out completely. 

“Yes, yes, please.”

“Then take it.” The vine enters her slowly, filling her already stretched hole, pumping in tandem with the other in her cunt. And fuck it, Ivy reaches down and touches her own center, hissing at how sensitive she is already. 

“Yes, yes, yes!!” Harley’s always been loud in bed, but she’s never screamed like this. Ivy smirks, directing a third vine to mimic the motions on Harley’s clit that Ivy’s already doing to her own. And oh, Harley shakes, rattles, so full and so hung she can’t move, only ride the wave as the vines move in and out and around her. “Fuck yes.”

“Are you close, Harley?”

“Y-yeah….” And then her eyes shut, and her mouth forms a silent oh, and her body jerks, clenching around the vines.

“That’s my girl.” And Ivy brings her down slowly until Harley relaxes, and she pulls the vines away, untying her wrists and ankles and holding her close. “How’re you feeling, Harls?”

Her lover doesn’t answer at first, nestled against Ivy’s breast, her eyes distant and warm. “Thank you.” Harley nestles into her breast, breathing her in. “I feel amazing, as promised.” She giggles, and Ivy’s so busy laughing with her to notice the hand creeping towards her now naked legs. “Oooooo. What’s this?”

Ivy gasps, unable to help her moan at Harley’s touch. “Harley, you don’t have to--”

“Jesus fuck, you’re wet. Why didn’ you say somethin’?” Harley toys with her, circling her engorged clit and playing with her labia.

Ivy can’t bring herself to her own defense, too focused on how nice Harley’s fingers feel. She squirms, gripping Harley’s shoulders. “Harley--”

“Shh. C’mere. Lemme return the favor.” And then Harley lays back on a newly formed flower bed. With strength Ivy didn’t think she’d have at this point; Harley pulls Ivy’s thighs towards her face. 

“You sure?”

“Isely you’ve gotta stop asking me that.” She tilts her head up, kissing the inside of Ivy’s thigh. “I love you. Of course, I’m sure.” Her lips drift toward Ivy’s center, half-cleaning up the mess they’ve made, half-making it worse. 

Biting her lip, Ivy swallows her gasps, trying to hold on. “Harl, I--” Oh. It’s like she’s never felt another’s mouth on her, though clearly Harley (among others) have been down more than she can count. 

“Shh,” Harley manages to say between long licks. She edges the tip of her tongue around her clit, drinking her in without drying her up. Fuck, she still has pleasure oil on her tongue. Not as strong as at first, but Ivy doesn’t need that strength. 

Maybe that’s what love is. Trust that the other person won’t let you fall when you step too far off the ledge. Someone to hold your hand when you do fall, so you can fall down together. Someone to pick you back up. “Harley, I need--oh.” Ivy groans.

“‘S okay, Ives. Ride me.”

Ivy doesn’t need to be told twice. She grinds down, not so hard as to smother Harley, but enough to feel her mouth that much more. Oh god, fuck, she’s sucking her clit and--

When Ivy comes to, she’s lying on her side, with Harley playing the big spoon. “Holy shit, Harley,” she says, her mouth dry as cotton. 

“Your turn,” Harley shoves the water bottle in her face, and Ivy drinks it dry. “Not bad, eh?”

“Not bad at all.”

[jupitermelichios]

DC: The High-School AU: The Series: The Staff (the musical)

So I finally cast the school staff and teachers for my DC High School AU, which I thought some of you would have some fun with! I took the subject list from a fairly fancy looking private school, because only schools you have to pay for have their subject lists online, so I’m probably offering way more classes than your average state school, but hey, it’s my AU and I wanted to cram in as many supervillains, obscure heroes, and bad jokes as possible.

Admin & Staff

Principle - Amanda Waller

Deputy Principle & Treasurer - Noah Kuttler (the Calculator)

Nurse - Myra Mason (she was Dr Midnite’s nurse and love interest in the 40s & 50s, then got fridged, but I’m unfridging her and giving her a job with much better survival prospects)

Councillor - Ethel Peabody (she’s a psychiatrist from the Gotham TV show, and also in my headcanon, Amanda Waller’s sister)

Librarian - Stanislaus Johns (The Librarian. I considered bookworm for this job but he’s literally called the Librarian, what was I supposed to do, not use him?)

Admin Staff - Laura Conway (Superman supporting cast and occaisional vampire), Mabel Martin (Riddler’s secretary), Theresa Collins (Goldstar, also Booster Gold’s secretary)

Business

Loren Jupiter (aka Mr Jupiter the richest and therefore most thrustworthy man in the world) - Business 101, Business Law, Entrepreneurship

Wesley Dodds (Sandman) - Business Communications

Annabeth Chamberlain (Brimstone) - Marketing, Hospitality & Tourism (she doesn’t work in tourism, but I figure anyone who can waitress while also having the power to set people on fire and damn them to hell and keeps her job probably knows a whole lot about customer service)

Family & Consumer Science

Miss Tribb (Lobo’s childhood teacher who inexplicably survived the extinction of their species) - Childhood Developement, Early Childhood Education

Neil Richards (The Mad Mod) - Texiles/Sewing, Fashion

Tenzil Kem (Matter-Eater Lad) - Food & Nutrition

Finance

Noah Kuttler (The Calculator) - Personal Finance

Foreign Languages

Matron Bertinelli (Nu52 Huntress, who I’m declaring a sepperate character and the aunt of pre-52 Huntress because they’re radically different characters and I like both of them) - ASL, Italian

Chang Jie-Ru (Nu52 Yo-Yo) - Chinese, AP Chinese

Yolanda Montez (Wildcat II) - Spanish, AP Spanish

Barbara Minerva (Cheetah) - Latin

Health Sciences

Myra Mason - Emergency Medical Responder training

Charles McNider (Dr Midnite) - Anatomy & Physiology, Health Class

IT

Brian Durlin (Savant) - Computer Programming, Web Dev

Jennifer Lyn-Hayden (Jade) - Digital Art 101

Arnold Wesker (Ventriloquist) - 3D Animation, 3D Graphics (I don’t know why but the idea of Wesker as an animator just tickled me. Obviously his real passion is stop-motion, but he learnt 3D because there were more jobs)

English (the fancy private school called this ‘language arts’ which is so prentious it makes me feel slightly nauseous)

Wesley Dodds (Sandman) - English Language, AP English Language

Rac Shade (Shade the Changing Man) - English Literature, AP English Literature

Chloe Sullivan (the worst character in the Smallville TV show, a hotly contested position) - English Language, Communications 101, supervises the School Paper and the Yearbook

Shelly Gaynore (The Whip III) - Englist Literature, Creative Writing

Basil Karlo (Clayface) - Intro to Shakespeare

Nick Scratch (officially his supervillain name is just Scratch, but I refuse to consider that a code-name, looking at you Drake) - Communications 102: Public Speaking

Mathematics (which has a 100% villain make-up, which seems accurate from what I remember of high-school maths)

Noah Kuttler (The Calculator, because I think I’m funny) - Pre-Calc, Calculus, AP Calculus

Harlan Graves (The Underbroker) - Stats, Algebra 1, Algebra 2

Angelo Bend (Angle Man, becuase I know I’m funny) - Geometry, Trigonometry

PE (I realise this is probably too many PE teachers but there are a lot more caonical althetes than just about any other job in the DCU except maybe scientist)

Lawrence Crock (Sportsmaster, you knew this was coming) - Gym, Weight Training, coaches Baseball, Basketball, Tennis & Hockey

Lisa Snart (Golden Glider) - joint-coaches Cheerleading, coaches the Drill Team, Wrestling

Randy Hanrahan (Stallion) - PE, joint-coaches Cheerleading & Cross-Country, coaches Football

William Everett (Amazing Man) - PE, joint-coaches Cross-Country, coaches Track & Field

Matron Bertinelli (Huntress, sort of) - coaches Soccer & gymnastics

Performing Arts

Lisa Snart (Golden Glider) - Dance

Hartley Rathaway (Pied Piper) - Music 101, Music Theory, Composition, teaches Guitar & Percussion

Isaac Bowin (The Fiddler) - Music 101, AP Music Theory, leads Jazz Band, Orchestra, Marching Band

Siobhan Smyth (Silver Banshee) - part-time, leads the Choir and teaches singing

Basil Karlo (Clayface) - Theatre, Theatre 101

Simon Trent (Grey Ghost) - Theatre, Theatre 101, Film Studies

Ted Kord (Blue Beetle) - Theatre Tech

Mary Louise Dahl (Baby-Doll, from B:TAS) - Film Studies, Video Production

Betty Bates (Lady-at-Law, who is technically owned by DC now due to corporate buy-outs) - Debate

Science (do you have any idea how hard it is to pin down areas of specialisation for comic book scientists? TNT is on this list entirely because he’s the only actual honest-to-god professional chemist I could find)

Kirk Langstrom (ManBat) - Biology, AP Biology

Pamela Isley (Poison Ivy) - Biology, Environmental Science

Thomas “Tex” Thomas (TNT) - Chemistry

Achilles Milo (Professor Milo, again not really much of a code name) - Chemistry, AP Chemistry

Will Magnus (I refuse to even dignify it as a code-name) - Physics, Earth Sciences

Ray Palmer (The Atom) - Physics, AP Physics

Adam Strange (DC is just doing this to fuck with me, personally) - Astronomy

Social Studies & Humanities

Barbara Minerva (Cheetah) - World History

Maxie Zeus (ffs) - World History, AP World History (fun fact, Maxie was canonically just a normal history teacher before he got lightning powers, became convinced he was Zeus incarnate, and set out to become a criminal, making him my favourite DC mobster by a country mile)

Terry Long (aka one of the only characters to really deserve to get fridged) - US History, AP European History

Eobard Thawne (every code-name he has is stupid, but lets just go with Reverse-Flash as the least awful option) - US History, AP US History

Nick Scratch - US Government, AP US Government, AP Comparative Politics

Rex Tyler (Hourman) - AP Art History

Magdalene Kyle-Burton (Sister Zero, she’s a sometimes-nun and a sometimes-sister to Catwoman) - Comparative Religion

Michael Carter (Booster Gold) - Economics, AP Microeconomics, AP Macroeconomics

Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) - Psychology (there is exactly one heroic psychiatrist in all of comics, and I’d already used Dr Fate elsewhere. Scarecrow seemed like the least bad option of the remaining pool for being around children, and he does at least have teaching experience)

Adam Strange - Sociology

Betty Bates (Lady-at-Law) - Law

Richard Occult/Rose Psychic (it’s complicated, lets just say Dr Occult and leave it at that) - part-time, Criminal Justice

Technology & Engineering

Ted Kord (Blue Beetle) - Electronics, CAD, Woodworking

John Henry Irons (Steel) - Engineering, Metalworking

Will Magnus - Robotics

Visual Arts

Linda Lee/Danvers (she’s Supergirl, but I’m making her a different character from Kara Danvers/Kent because the DCU is really short on artists and I needed someone to teach the damn class, although the only thing that really makes her distinct from other supergirls is that she fucked a horse that one time and IDK how that will translate into a personality...) - Ceramics, AP Studio Art: 3D Design, Art 101

Rex Tyler (Hourman) - Graphic Design, Drawing, AP Studio Art: Drawing

Jack Knight (Starman) - Painting, AP Studio Art: 2D Design, Art 101

Jennifer Lyn-Hayden (Jade) - Photography

So there you go - I’ll be honest I still don’t really understand how high-schools in the USA work, and I have no idea what Design studio art even is so I kind of assigned those ones at random, but now it’s done and cannot be changed.

As always this universe is open to prompts so if you want a chapter focussing on any of these characters just drop me an ask or a comment and I’ll see what I can do. Making Dr Occult & Rose Psychic a single gender-fluid person is already on my list to do, since that’s who I thought they were for a longest time when I started reading comics and I’m still kind of annoyed that isn’t canonically what’s going on.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Making Bad Look Good Part 2

A second part! Featuring... Two-Face, Deathstroke, Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Hush, Zsasz, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the Court of Owls!

I got a ton of requests for these, and you’ve all been so helpful! This one’s for you!

Making Bad Look Good part 2 - a.k.a. another 6 Degrees of Evil Bacon

Warning: Long post ahead.

Two-Face - Harvey Dent

You met Two-Face back when he was District Attorney for Gotham.

He was no “Ce-SEAL-Your-Fate” Horton from Central City, but he was doing a bang-up job putting criminals behind bars, cracking their insanity pleas.

So you went to meet him after a case where he got the Penguin sentenced to Blackgate instead of Arkham.

Sure, he’ll probably escape, but the precedent the case sets is important.

“Mr. Wayne! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to meet our amazing new D.A.”

You make small talk, until you decide to ask him to lunch to congratulate him on the case.

He grins. “Okay. But we’ll flip a coin for the check. Heads, you pay. Tails, my treat.”

You shrug.

He flips a strange coin that he tells you is his lucky charm.

It comes up heads, on the side that looks like it’s been corroded.

You smirk. “That’s a double-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yup. Most people don’t get it so quick.”

He shakes your hand and offers to pay anyway since you were such a good sport.

After he becomes Two-Face, it’s this moment you choose to remember...

Deathstroke and Deadshot - Slade Wilson and Floyd Lawton

There have been quite a few times when you were targeted by an assassin or two.

But that particular time, you were the prize for a competition between them.

Slade and Lawton had been hired to take you out, but only the actual killer would get the other half of the payment.

So one day, Deadshot is setting up the hit, angling a crazy shot to hit you through the back of the skull and bamboozle all ballistics tests. You come into range, and he shoots -

-only to see you get shoved out of the way by the eyepatch-ed Slade Wilson.

Bruce wants to sequester you in the Batcave, but instead, you tell him to set up a meeting as Batman.

It’s fun to throw money at problems.

On a rooftop, the Bat behind you, you offer Slade and Lawton double the total for your contract to give you the name of their employer and void the hit.

It’s technically against whatever assassin code there is, but you know, money tends to grease the wheels of any machine.

Deadshot takes the money and tells you it was some crackpot billionaire trying to get at Bruce. He also chuckles and says that he’s available if you ever have more money to throw and a grudge for him to carry out.

Deathstroke also takes the money and nods at you before leaving.

And while Slade comes back to torment you and your sons time and again, Floyd is actually quite pleasant. You sometimes hire him when you need security, which he calls easy money, and from that point, your husband almost never encounters him on the job...

Harley Quinn - Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel

“Paging Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, to the front desk.”

You and some other Gotham big shots were invited to Arkham for a publicity tour. Reporters are there, too, including Clark, so you feel pretty safe.

A surprisingly young woman comes to play tour guide, her hair in slight pigtails.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Quinzel. Currently I’m junior psychologist here at Arkham Asylum.” She has a bit of a New York accent, though you can tell she’s worked hard to soften it.

One reporter asks just how “junior” she is, and she gives an indulgent chuckle. “Yes, I graduated med school early, so I’m a bit young for a specialized doctor. But I’m also one of the only medical professionals still willing to work at Arkham, so I think that’s what counts, right?”

The tour goes well enough, until you raise your hand. “You’re the psychologist in charge of the Joker, right?”

Dr. Quinzel smiles in a strange way. “Yes, that I am.”

You frown. “And do you think, as a junior psychologist, you’re adequately prepared for him?”

“I know that I am a medical professional, Mr. Wayne, and I am certainly qualified to examine my patients.”

But Dr. Quinzel, just for a moment, looks fractured, torn. Like there’s some sort of internal war raging in her soul. But it gets absorbed in her too-wide smile.

You put it down to nerves about meeting the press, and let it go.

You always wonder if there was something you could’ve done for the woman, prevented it from all going wrong, prevented her from becoming Harley Quinn...

Poison Ivy - Dr. Pamela Isley

Pamela was going to college at about the same time you were. 

You weren’t friends, exactly, although you did both share a class in Professor Crane’s Intro Psych course (an elective for both of you).

There were a lot of rumors about her. You chose not to engage in the gossip, especially as it was a lot about her sleeping with her Biology professor for a better grade.

You had to do a project with her for your final grade, and she invited you to her apartment to work on it together.

It was full of plants. She mentions it before you have a chance to even think about bringing them up. 

“They’re my babies.” she jokes. “So much easier to take care of than pets.”

You smile. “All the oxygen probably helps you work better, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

She talks about how she’s going to be a botanist when she graduates, and she’s going to work for the EPA. She’s very self-interested, but genuine, and you have fun while working on the project.

But only a few weeks after you turn in the project, she disappears. Rumors abound about how she ran off with the Bio professor. Some say they were having an affair. Others are kinder and say they’re on a botanical conservation mission in some swamp somewhere.

Either way, you never see Pamela again.

At least, until Poison Ivy shows up in town...

(Side note: Drew Barrymore as Poison Ivy? Thoughts?)

Mr. Freeze - Dr. Victor Fries

Fries shows up one day out of nowhere

Just shooting with that cold gun.

He attacks a gala event for the Wayne Foundation and holds it up for jewelry and the cash being raised for the underprivileged of Gotham..

You glare at him. “You know you’re just taking money right out of the pocket of needy kids, right?”

“It’s for a good cause.” He says darkly.

“And what cause would that be?”

He sneers at you. “Disease research, mainly.”

The phrase surprises you.

Later, Bruce is doing research at the Batcave. “He goes by Mr. Freeze. Born: Victor Fries. Wife Nora suffers from Stage Four of a rare pneumonia-like condition known as MacGregor Syndrome. He had her cryogenically frozen, and now it seems like he’s turned to crime to fund his research into a cure.”

You hesitate. “Well... is there something we can do to help him?”

“Help him? May I remind you that he held hundreds of people hostage?”

“Well...” you shrug. “I just figure that maybe he wouldn’t be so... crime-y if his wife was being taken care of. I don’t know what I’d do if I was so close to losing you.”

Bruce softens slightly. “Look, Freeze committed a crime - several crimes, and he has to go to jail. But if it makes you feel better, we can have Wayne Enterprise’s medical division look into studying her disease. Judging from what I see here, MacGregor Syndrome has similarities with many other diseases. It might be a key in finding lots more cures.”

You smile and hug him. “Lead with that. Tell Fries that we’re willing to do that.”

Of course, Fries’ future crimes are due to the cost of maintaining his portable cryogenic suit, but you hear a lot less about it than you expect, especially since Nora is being taken care of...

Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch

You were meeting a couple of old school friends at a tea parlor one day. It’s nice to escape the stress of your life and reminisce.

Roland and Alicia are a cute couple, and they tell you they have a baby on the way.

But the day is marred by a strange incident in which a small man in a top hat and tails (tuxedo tails) comes up to your table and starts babbling at Alicia, calling her “Alice” and trying to touch her blond hair, despite her attempts to shove him away..

Roland gets angry and punches the man, but before he can go any further, you pull him back.

The strange man glances at you. “The Dormouse...” he mutters, and walks away.

“What a creep.” Alicia shudders.

You’ve already figured it out. The man is deluded, thinking he’s the Mad Hatter, and he seems to be trying to fit everything into his Wonderland-inspired delusions. You tell Bruce about this, and he immediately agrees that Alicia is in danger.

You go to their hotel room to see them, warn them, but Roland answers the door wearing a bowler hat and Alicia is nowhere to be found.

Roland attacks you, knocking you out and kidnapping you.

Thankfully Bruce has been watching as Batman and follows.

You wake up tied to a chair around a tea table. Alicia is tied to another chair in an Alice-in-Wonderland costume, looking terrified. 

Jervis Tetch reveals himself and points out his minions, enslaved with his mind control headwear.

“Very spiffy, if I do say so myself.” you say cheerily. “Quite the milliner you are, my good sir.” (Alicia looks at you like you’re crazy)

Jervis loves the flattery, and it distracts him long enough for Batman to smash through the glass ceiling and knock the hat off his head, disabling the control.

Sure, no one was hurt much, but needless to say you would have to visit Alicia and Roland in the future instead of ever having them come to Gotham...

Hush - Dr. Tommy Elliot

“We’re having lunch with an old friend of mine.” Bruce announces.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Why don’t I know who this is? We have pretty much all the same old friends. I mean, we were together, like, all the time.”

“You remember Tommy, right?”

“Tommy? No, Tommy doesn’t ring a bell, hon.”

Bruce sighs, and you laugh. This is as animated as you’ve seen him in a while. “Come on, Tommy Elliot! Back when we were little! We used to play Robin Hood together in the park, and you two always fought over who got to be the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“Yeah, nope. No memory of that.”

He sighs, but you go with him anyway. It hits you when you see the man at the restaurant. He was that kid! His parents were friends with Bruce’s parents. They had almost died in an accident when Bruce’s dad saved them.

He’d always try to play this strategy game thing with you and Bruce. It was only two players, and while he’d always beat Bruce (your husband wasn’t always the tactician he was now), he’d get really frustrated playing against you.

Tommy liked to try and get inside your head to beat you, figure out what you were going to do and then planning for it.

But you could tell what he was doing, and kept doing random moves you wouldn’t normally play, throwing him off and winning.

You didn’t like him much, and you kinda got the feeling he didn’t like Bruce that much either.

“Oh. That Tommy.”

Bruce looks at your worried face. “What’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, we can cancel.”

“Oh, hush. We’re already here. Least we can do is have a nice lunch...”

Zsasz - Victor Zsasz

It’s never a good sign when a payphone rings. So many bad reasons...

Not the least of which is that barely anyone even uses payphones anymore.

Let alone to call another payphone. I mean, how does that even work?

So it startles you when you’re walking Gotham (during the day, of course), and a payphone rings. No one else is around to answer it. 

You start to walk away, and then the next payphone rings when you reach it.

The other guy near it jumps like fifty feet in the air, but then goes to answer it.

He looks scared. “It’s... it’s for you.”

You sigh and take the phone

“Ignoring my calls? Naughty...”

“Um... wrong number. This is a payphone, not, uh, whoever you were calling.”

“This isn’t Y/N Wayne?”

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. May I ask who’s calling, though?”

“I know it’s you, Y/N. You don’t know me. Yet.”

“Look, I know Halloween’s coming up, but I’m not in the mood for Scream right now, okay?”

“This isn’t a scary movie, it’s real. My name is Zsasz.”

“Z- zsa... okay, how is that spelled?”

“Z. S. A. S. Z.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, is that Polish?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, I have to run, but it was nice talking to you!”

You run home and immediately tell Bruce you talked to Zsasz. Luckily you were running a trace with your phone - a little extra Tim developed for you. Within the hour, Batman has Zsasz in custody, saving the poor people he had kidnapped to add to his tally...

Klarion the Witch Boy

“Oh, hello! Who are you, little guy?”

The orange tabby glares at you with utter hate. It flicks its tail, but surprisingly, comes closer and curls around your legs.

It allows you to pick it up, and it purrs.

“Teekl! My word!” a boy comes running up to you, wearing a tailored suit and a newsboy cap. 

The boy snatches the tabby from you and pets it, despite how it looks like it wants to go back to you. “What were you doing with Teekl?”

“That’s its name? He’s a cute little guy. Uh, he just wandered in front of me and basically asked me to pet him.”

The boy glares at the cat. “You TALKED to him?”

The cat looks at him and rolls its eyes.

“Um, who are you, kid?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Seriously, mortal? You haven’t heard of me? I am Klarion! Klarion the Witch Boy! And this is my familiar, Teekl.”

You nod seriously. “Good for you, kid.”

He seems about to throw a tantrum, so you wave and leave the boy dumbfounded...

The Court of Owls

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them

Or they’ll send the Talon for your head...”

“That’s a stupid poem. It doesn’t even keep time.”

“It’s free verse.”

“Yeah, free ‘cause no one would pay for it.”

You and Bruce were only kids when you heard the old rhyme. Bruce was trying to scare you as a Halloween season joke, but it wasn’t working.

“Come on, Y/N! At least pretend to play along!”

Thomas Wayne enters the living room, and pretends to scold Bruce. “Now, Bruce, be hospitable to your guest. What’s the argument about?”

You smirk. “Bruce says that there’s a Court of Owls who eat limes and put talons on people’s heads.”

Thomas hunches down, making a spooky face. “Well, Y/N, it’s an old Gotham story. It’s a very bad thing that Bruce told you. You’ll have to be very careful now.”

He looks dead serious, and now you’re scared. “Really? What should I do, Mr. Wayne?”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have to be a very good kid all your life, Y/N. Never go out after dark without your parents’ permission. Don’t ever cheat on a test. Don’t lie. And if you ever see someone in an Owl mask, look the other way and forget you saw it.”

He grins, dropping the facade. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just couldn’t help it. Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

Being a stubborn child, you insist he didn’t. After all, you’re old enough not to be scared by that stuff anymore.

But on the way home, after your parents pick you up, you notice something.

A tall figure in an alley, wearing a stylized white Owl mask.

You quickly look away, trying to put it out of your head, mumbling the rhyme to yourself.

“Beware the Court of Owls...”

You forget about this until far later in life, after you, as Y/N Wayne, have become an enemy of the dreaded Court...

[bluboothalassophile]

All Along the Watchtower

Chloe Decker, detective, mother, and resident partner of Lucifer Morningstar; whom was insufferable, did not dwell on Lucifer’s love life, or she tried not to. Which was why she was startled in Lux, looking at nothing as she waited for Lucifer, who was talking with Mazikeen. Mazikeen Morningstar, Chloe thought bitterly; though she didn’t understand her own jealousy of over the fact. He had introduced his partner; who was apparently his wife, to her years ago, more importantly Trixie had come to adore the pair.

A young woman walked in, short, slender, long legs, long black hair, and ivory pale skin. The woman’s dark eyes raked over her, in a similar manner as Mazikeen’s did.

“Is Lucifer here?” she asked. “Or Maze.”

“They’re here,” Chloe said.

“Good,” the woman said, Chloe guessed this woman to be about twenty-five or twenty-six; at the most.

“And you are?” she asked as the woman walked away.

“Oh, sorry, Luci’s granddaughter, Rachel Roth,” she smiled a bit as she continued up the stairs.

“What!?” Chloe screeched. There was NO way Lucifer had a twenty-five year old granddaughter! None.

“Hm?” Rachel looked over at her.

“Rachel!” Mazikeen appeared, stalking down the stairs with a huge smile before hugging the young woman. “It’s good to see you! When did you get into town!?” Maze demanded eagerly.

“About ten minutes ago, Jack dropped me off, he’s heading for Las Vegas,” she answered.

“It is a true pleasure to see my granddaughter, as always,” Lucifer said walking for the girl, kissing her brow. “The guest rooms are all yours.”

“Thanks,” she smiled a bit.

“You and I shall meet up with the small human!” Maze said excitedly.

“You actually found a human you like!?” Rachel chuckled.

“Other than you darling, and yes, the detective’s offspring is a personal pet of Maze’s,” Lucifer said. “Ah! Detective, it is a pleasure, I’m sorry for the wait, allow me to settle my granddaughter and then I will go with you to the crime scene!”

“I think Maze and I can get that settled,” Rachel said with a smile, arm and arm with Mazikeen, who was beaming excitedly at Rachel’s presence.

“You have got to be joking, there’s no way, did you sleep with her Lucifer!?” Chloe snapped out of her stupor. Rachel looked repulsed as Maze grabbed Rachel and tucked her behind her, glaring at Chloe, and Lucifer looked disgusted.

“I am not that deprived, detective, she is my granddaughter.”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that,” Chloe stated. “Rachel, are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No more than normal, and he actually is my grandfather,” Rachel insisted.

“Give it up, this particular mortal is forever clueless,” Mazikeen stated dragging Rachel off. “I’ll set her up Lucifer, go play detective with your pet!” Maze shouted.

Lucifer grimaced, his scar looking particularly hideous across his features as he grimaced then glared at her.

“Well, come on, let us go see what mortal is dead now. And refrain from your unusual obsessive commentary on my sex life, especially the insinuations I would dare to sleep with my own bloody granddaughter!” he snapped as he stalked past her. Chloe blinked rapidly and saw Maze’s glare as the woman disappeared.

“I just…” she started.

“You have obsessively ‘just’ about it, even to the point where my marriage was in trouble,” he growled.

Chloe said nothing as they walked for her car. Chloe though had decided that whether or not her deranged partner was in need of it or not, she was going to look out for him, and he was just deranged enough to believe whatever con Rachel Roth was pulling on him.

It was hours after Lucifer had left her to go cook for his wife and granddaughter that Chloe started digging for information on Rachel Roth.

Rachel Roth, she was twenty-five, her birthday was listed as November 11th on these records. There wasn’t much on her, just a few photos of her from the paparazzi back in Gotham even. Usually in the presence of the most elusive Wayne, Jason Peter Todd. She stared at the photo of the young woman standing there with a smile as she chatted with the young brutish man.

Jason looked like a dangerous thug, with his glare, directed over Rachel’s head at the photographer.

Rachel Roth, dead, legally, as of a year ago, was dead, her killer was killed by Jason Todd. Kori Anders-Grayson’s brother had come to the family, and intent on revenge for some mishap in the Congo, he had come to kill Kori’s family, Rachel had died protecting her goddaughter, there’d been a massive funeral for her. She was survived by her elder brother, and two mothers, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and Dr. Pamela Isley. She had been twenty-four at the time of her death. Her father figure; one John Constantine, had written a touching ology for her.

Her photo in the local newspaper was a simple portrait. Long black hair, no bangs, a proud face, her smile was slight, small, almost as mysterious as the Mona Lisa’s smile, those dark eyes were of no specific color, highlighted by impossibly thick lashes.

“What are you looking at Chloe?” her ex-husband, and sort of boyfriend asked as he came over.

“A dead girl,” she answered honestly.

“Girl died in Gotham, home invasion, attempted kidnapping. So?”

“So… this girl just walked into Lux and called Lucifer grandpa,” Chloe stated. “I can’t figure out if she’s feeding his delusion or not!” she snapped.

“Chloe, the girl is dead, and unless there’s such a thing as resurrection, I doubt she walked into Lux,�� Dan stated. “More than likely the girl you saw is a dobble ganger and Lucifer is her Sugar Daddy.”

“But…”

“I’d leave it alone Chloe, he’s crazy!”

“I know that, but… he’s good,” she muttered. And so pure in his intentions; no matter how deranged, it was maddening.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Lucifer smiled at Rachel as she laughed with Maze while he cooked his demons dinner.

“So what have you been up to with the Winchesters? Any hints on Jason?” Lucifer asked.

“Not yet, and a lot, Bobby Singer, knows everything!” Rachel stated. He smiled at her enthusiasm but knew he had to wait for her to uncover who she truly was before he sprung her realities on her.

Chloe texted him, he glanced at his phone to see Rachel Roth’s ulogy and death certificate images in the text photos.

“Who’s that?” Rachel asked.

“No one of importance, his pet mortal.”

“Oh, what did she want?”

“To inform me of something I’m aware of,” he chuckled humorlessly.

[scartetqueens2]

Chapters: 31/31 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Batgirl (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Joker, Red Hood, Batman, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Roy Harper, Lian Harper, Jade Nguyen, Ra’s al Ghul, Lady Shiva, Misty Copeland, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Dinah Lance, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, kal el, Clark Kent, Shayera Hol, Oliver Queen, Selina Kyle, Thomas Wayne Jr., Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Harley Quinn, Dr Jonathan Crane, Pamela Isley, Harvey Dent, Edward Nygma, Ubu (DCU) Additional Tags: under the red hood alternate ending, Talia is a good mum, Batman is a poor dad, joker needs to die, like seriously DC, Violence, Suicide Attempt, Character Death, Assassins, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Panic Attack, Mental Health Issues, anger issues, Abandonment, damian is a good brother, The Red Hood Gang is badass, female ninjas, dick grayson is a dick, I love my female OC’s, they’re so about the family, it ain’t even funny, also Eshe and Sada will kick your arse if you’re mean to their Jason, drunken fun, Dancing, Drunk Dancing, Jason has a few beers and they go to his head, Roy is there, they remember the fun they used to have, mentions of underage fun in a club, Nothing Explicit Happens, Angst, Fluff, Eshe and Sada are there for Jason, they want to protect him, while also filming his drunk ass, family holiday, Damian and Lian become quick friends, Roy Harper is a good parent, Holiday, family trips, Ballet, Misty Copeland - Freeform, American Ballet Theatre, Child Abuse, forced drugging, Truth Serum, Bruce Wayne Being an Asshole, Medical Procedures, past child trafficking, Forced Labour, Poison, Don’t mess with the Terror Twins, or the Three Musketeers, Jason is so gay, Murder, Gun Violence, Mind Meld, Memories, Childhood, Rehabilitation, pet injury, dog injury, science is amazing, STEM needs more women, Forced Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Human Experimentation, Science Experiments Series: Part 6 of Reputation, Part 1 of Look What You Made Me Do Summary:

Red Hood watched as the Batmobile pulled into Crime Alley and Batman jumped out. He threw one of his throwing stars at the Bat and took off; he knew his ex-guardian would give chase. The condemned building he was aiming for was only five rooftops over and with all his training it was easy enough to get to without Batman catching up to him.

How everything going wrong on that night can actually result in everything going right for Jason.

[amandajoyce118]

Friday Five: Ladies Of DC Comics

I’m fairly certain I’ve already written about my favorite Marvel female characters in the past, so this International Women’s Day, it seemed appropriate to tackle DC comic book heroines. I mean, sure, there might be some sometimes-villains on this list of my favorite DC ladies, but they’re heroic more often than not, and they’re my faves, so I’m going to call them heroines.

Five: Mera

These days, Mera is the queen of Atlantis that the people chose. When she debuted in the comics, she was an outsider they weren’t sure about. Over the years, Mera has been painted as emotionally unstable and a heartless assassin. But that’s just one shallow version of her arc. She’s a strong, capable woman who doesn’t shy away from her sexuality or seizing power. She also generally cares about people and wants to learn about the surface world. I just find her fascinating.

Four: Catwoman

My first introduction to Catwoman was during the 90s Batman animated series. She was my favorite as a kid, though that changed over time. I still love her today though. I love that she’s an actual cat burglar who operates in shades of grey. She enjoys stealing, but she’s got her own moral code. I’m really looking forward to the graphic novel that explores her teenage years, expanding on the character’s backstory a bit. She’s probably the woman who has had the most on screen versions at this point, but I’ve got to say, Camren Bicondova’s version on Gotham might be my current favorite.

Three: Nubia

Wonder Woman’s lesser known sister is a long time favorite. The name “Nubia” is no accident as the character was dark skinned. Originally, the idea was that Diana’s mother wanted her daughter to have a playmate, but she made her out of darker clay. Look, there are a lot of strange things going on there, but Nubia eventually became an Amazon guardian of the underworld. She’s been woefully underused in comics, and I want to see more of her.

Two: Black Canary

The classic Black Canary of the comics gets a little confusing with the daughter replacing the mother and the muddled memories, but the modern Black Canary is all rock and roll, and that’s why I like her. She’s not just a superhero. She’s also punk rock. It makes her modern comics visually very different from those of the past, and I’m glad they seem to be going with the same aesthetic for her first time in live action on the big screen. There’s already been so many versions of her on the small screen that I’m looking forward to seeing what the movies do with her. Honestly, the core of why I like her is the relationships she forms with people - whether that’s Oliver, the Birds of Prey, or a rock band - so she better be good in the DCEU.

One: Poison Ivy

My all time favorite DC character happens to be Dr. Pamela Isley. (Or whatever variation of her name she uses.) Poison Ivy often gets painted by critics as nothing more than a scantily clad male fantasy, but she’s actually the opposite seeing as how, for the most part, she despises men. She blames men for the damage to the planet, the abuse women receive, and you know, general misery, most of the time. Honestly, who can blame her? At every turn, she’s labeled as an ecoterrorist by some man when all she wants is to the green expand. People forget that she’s a legitimate botanist, not just a villain with supermodel looks. She’s also one of the few people to get Harley Quinn to understand how bad the Joker is for her. Ivy is no saint, and she’s manipulated the few people she cares about plenty, but she’s much more compelling of a character than people give her credit for.

Honorable mention goes to: Amanda Waller, Killer Frost, and Vixen, all of whom I find to be interesting characters, but ones who really don’t seem to get enough meaty stories these days. Also narrowly missing out on making the list? Lois Lane, Harley Quinn, and Wonder Woman. They’re probably the most popular women of DC these days, so I know they get plenty of love.

Who’s your favorite?

[raven-whisperer]

Who are your favorite characters of DC? What are your favorite ships?

Its 1:30am - Let’s dive into this can of worms shall we? 

First and foremost:

My sweet, precious, angel. I’ve loved everything about Raven’s character since I watched Teen Titans as a little kid (fun fact: the tooth fairy left me all five seasons of Teen Titans in exchange for five teeth!) I read every comic of hers I can get my hands on. 

My edgy, hilarious, and super nerdy bad boy. I fell in love with Jason while reading memes for the batfmaily on my friend’s tumblr dash. To understand the characters, I of course, had to read their wikipedia pages. The more I read about them and saw memes, the more I thirsted to read about the walking gift to mankind myself. Jason Todd is literally the reason I read comics. 

My badass, beautiful, and bitchy queen! God bless the creators of Dr. Kimiyo Hoshi. Single-mom heroes are such an underused well of potential. What I love about Dr. Light is that she takes no shit and she works her ASS OFF every day for her kids and for the betterment of the world. Give me more Dr. Light DC. NOW. 

I just... I just fucking love her so much. (Also do NOT ship her with Carter. Let her be happy with someone decent. Thanks.)

Initially I didn’t want to include Babs because she’s OG batgirl and EVERYONE’s favorite, but I can’t help but be excited with every cameo she makes. Every time Barbara fucking breathes I WANT TO SCREAM FROM EXCITEMENT. I can’t deny the absolute love I feel for this amazing woman. 

This might be a surprise, but Damian is actually a decent character when writer’s go beyond the “iamthebloodsonandi’mbetterthanallofyou” mentallity he was first introduced with. Prelude to the Wedding: Robin vs. Ras al Ghul was one of the best issues I’ve ever read from DC. It showed Damian as he continues to struggle with his identity and place in the family, despite already being accepted and loved. His conversation with Selina was such a deep and important moment to understand that Damian is not just a brat. He’s a confused kid trying to learn to be better. 

While I absolutely adore Cassandra Cain and every graceful move she makes, I can’t help but love Stephanie more. There’s just something about how she won’t take shit from Batman and how incredibly intelligent she is that I can’t help but drool over. She’s so amazing (and funny!) which makes it impossible to ever have enough Stephanie. She’s worn three mantles with pride and absolutely deserves all of them. 

Okay, going into ships now. When I was younger I was really into shipping, and now I care FAR less who ends up with who except for a few key ships listed below:

Bruce Wayne - Selina Kyle

Dick Grayson - Princess Koriand’r

Dr. Pamela Isley - Dr. Harleen Quinzel

Luke Fox - Barbara Gordon (weird ship, I know, but I think it works) 

Kate Kane - Renee Montoya, Maggie Sawyer, Diana Prince, or Helena Bertineli

Kon-El - M’gann Morzz

Clark Kent - Lois Lane (not a thing I really pine for, but I want Jon to be born so.)

Steve Trevor - Diana Prince

Midnighter/Apollo (legit don’t know much about them except they’re a perfect couple) 

I think that sums up all my 1:50am thoughts on my favorite DC characters and ships. Let me know if you have any more questions! And as always, thank you SO MUCH for the ask.

[spartanbunjase]

Chapters: 26/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Batgirl (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Joker, Red Hood, Batman, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Roy Harper, Lian Harper, Jade Nguyen, Ra’s al Ghul, Lady Shiva, Misty Copeland - Character, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Dinah Lance, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, kal el, Clark Kent, Shayera Hol, Oliver Queen, Selina Kyle, Thomas Wayne Jr., Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Harley Quinn, Dr Jonathan Crane, Pamela Isley, Harvey Dent, Edward Nygma Additional Tags: under the red hood alternate ending, Talia is a good mum, Batman is a poor dad, joker needs to die, like seriously DC, Violence, Suicide Attempt, Character Death, Assassins, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Panic Attack, Mental Health Issues, anger issues, Abandonment, damian is a good brother, The Red Hood Gang is badass, female ninjas, dick grayson is a dick, I love my female OC’s, they’re so about the family, it ain’t even funny, also Eshe and Sada will kick your arse if you’re mean to their Jason, drunken fun, Dancing, Drunk Dancing, Jason has a few beers and they go to his head, Roy is there, they remember the fun they used to have, mentions of underage fun in a club, Nothing Explicit Happens, Angst, Fluff, Eshe and Sada are there for Jason, they want to protect him, while also filming his drunk ass, family holiday, Damian and Lian become quick friends, Roy Harper is a good parent, Holiday, family trips, Ballet, Misty Copeland, American Ballet Theatre, Child Abuse, forced drugging, Truth Serum, Bruce Wayne Being an Asshole, Medical Procedures, past child trafficking, Forced Labour, Poison, Don’t mess with the Terror Twins, or the Three Musketeers, Jason is so gay, Murder, Gun Violence, Mind Meld, Memories, Childhood, Rehabilitation Series: Part 6 of Reputation Summary:

Red Hood watched as the Batmobile pulled into Crime Alley and Batman jumped out. He threw one of his throwing stars at the Bat and took off; he knew his ex-guardian would give chase. The condemned building he was aiming for was only five rooftops over and with all his training it was easy enough to get to without Batman catching up to him.

How everything going wrong on that night can actually result in everything going right for Jason.

[newagegs]

name:  Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley

hero/vigilante/etc alias: Poison Ivy

age: 38

date of birth: June 4 1984

fandom: DC

Faceclaim: miriam leone 

height: 5’9

pronouns/gender identity/sexual+romantic identity: she/her lesbian

specifics

moral alignment: so this is a really hard one, im gonna say tentatively true neutral? But i don’t think it really fits her but she has so many aspects of all

dusted in the snap or not: dusted

if they were dusted, how did they feel about it and how have they adjusted since returning: First of all she feels pretty angry about how the whole thing was arranged. Killing off half of humanity to preserve the environment, yeah fine, okay she can get that. But killing half of all life? No, that was dumb and she hates that alot. 

She also feels a bit shaken, it’s a lot to realize your sudden vulnerability to such a catastrophe. It makes her even more wary of others and a little quicker to do what she feels she needs to do to defend herself. 

if they weren’t dusted, what did they get up to in those five years, be as in depth as you want, the more the better: NA

are they aligned to any specific team/groups/etc and if so, how did they join and why if not, are they looking to join a team and if so, why: Ivy is most definitely not looking to join a team. She can count the people she actually trusts on one hand. With four fingers cut off. She would be convinced if she really genuinely thought it would suit her purposes if she did, but in general? No thank you

  where do they currently live/been living since the return snap: Ivy’s got a place in gotham, spends most her time there. 

what have they been doing personally and/or professionally since the return snap: She’s tending to her plants!!! She was away for them for five years, she’s gotta take care of them now. She spends a lot of time talking to them, promising them it won’t happen again. If you hear her talking to them no you didn’t also you’re dead now. 

ramble a bit about them, their past, what their current motivations are, go as in depth as you like. again, the more the better: Ivy cares about the world. She actually genuinely does. What she does not care for are people. People, to Ivy, are like any other kind of animal in the world–when they grow too harmful for the environment around them they need to be stopped. They are essentially an invasive species, and she’s just! Trying to help the world grow. Even if that means doing what you need to do to invasive species.

Despite this attitude Ivy has a huge soft spot for children. They’re innocent, and she will not intentionally harm them. She will on the other hand harm people who she holds responsible for the destruction of the earth. Mostly fatally. 

Ivy is a lesbian with a lil sprinkling of misandry. She uses men, generally appealing to them sexually before utterly destroying them. She is not attracted to any of these men but she does enjoy the power it gives her. It’s a role reversal of what had happened to her when she was younger, man’s control over her life. She does not limit her actions and harm to men, if she thinks a woman is responsible for environmental destruction she’d destroy her all the same but would probably not enjoy it as much. 

Ivy can control plants, help them grow and mutate and also is immune to plant toxins. She can also produce toxins herself.

one plot idea, big or small, you’d like to do with them or connection/dynamic to explore:for plot, i would really like to see ivy interact with other teams, as well as doing her own morally gray antiheroine bit with heroes. For a dynamic I’d really like to see her be gay with Harley <3

[forlornmelody]

What characters in the DC universe do you see as ace?

So, this answer is a bit out of order (I have a backlog of asks and tags again), but it’s Ace Awareness Week! 

As always, I feel like my sexuality headcanons are a sort of chicken & the egg situation. Are they ace because I like them? Or do I like them because they’re ace? [spoiler warning: no one following this blog will be surprised by the characters that follow.]

Rose Wilson: aka The Ravager. Daughter of Slade Wilson, aka, Deathstroke the Terminator. Sometimes a villain, usually an anti-hero that plays by her own rules and for her own team. Precognitive martial artist who favors swords, and has Deadpool-like ability to regenerate (except for her eyeball.)

Why I see her as ace: So, Rose is a constant flirt. I can’t remember flirting with girls (someone please prove me wrong), but name a male hero/villain around her age and she’s probably offered to get into their pants. Here’s the thing, though. The only time you actually see her sleep with someone is when she’s in a. Bad. Place. Also, Slade, who will never win the Dad Of The Year award, straight-up accuses her of blue-balling her boyfriend. She gets married in Rebirth, but only to spite her dad (the dude’s a former associate who ratted on him), but she seemingly falls for the guy later. She’ll also flirt your tail off but get all tongue-tied when you actually connect emotionally with her. I think for Rose, sexuality/sensuality is another weapon in her arsenal, but she doesn’t really let many people get close enough to actually be attracted to them. Conclusion: Rose is demisexual, maybe demiromantic.

My thinking with Dr. Pamela Isley aka Poison Ivy, runs along the same lines. She literally kills/stuns/controls people with kisses, whether it be lipstick or meta-pollen (yes I just made that up.) Honestly, I don’t know as much about her history (yet), but from what I’ve seen--the only person she truly cares about is her best friend and partner in crime--Dr. Harleen Quinzel aka Harley Quinn. People say Ivy is into Batman, but please. She’s trying to murder the guy, not seduce him. Ivy’s relationship with Harley builds over time. It’s initially established as one of those THEY WERE ROOMMATES situations in Gotham City Sirens (when they move in with Catwoman and take over The Riddler’s apartment.) When she does decide to start a family in her own six-issue series, Ivy creates her children using her own power and knowledge, rather than involving a second party. Tell me that’s not the most ace thing you’ve ever read. (And yes, having someone with plant powers be our ace rep is a little problematic--Ivy controls/uses/works with plants. She is not literally a plant.) Also, she gives me major Jessica Rabbit vibes. Conclusion: Ivy is definitely demisexual. I’m not sure whether to qualify her as a demi lesbian or a bi/panromantic demiexual. Would love to hear people’s thoughts on this.