“Hibiscus”. Poison Ivy/Tetsuki, Deuteranomaly!verse a few years down the road.

A/N: Oh generic-name-goes-here, you always prompt the sweetest things that make me blush. (ノ*゜▽゜*)

I actually think I’m gonna write a ficlet for this instead of the event-typical fake fic summary, so I hope you enjoy!

Ivy’s children are far smarter than anyone else gives them credit for–only recently do mainstream scientists even consider that plants feel pain when damaged, one of the most basic traits of living things–but even they have their limitations.

Her warning bell flowers call out to her late on a night so cold and quiet, a night like many other in Gotham, and yet she wonders.

The figure on the edge of her territory is familiar yet not. It’s been years since that first night, months since she last saw her, and yet those eyes haven’t changed at all.

The newest bearer of the Green Lantern title waits on the outskirts of Robinson Park, waiting for permission to enter Poison Ivy’s realm.


The first time Tetsuki leaves Gotham is not entirely by choice.

It’s not as if The Bat had run her out–though she’s heard how awful he is about people with abilities beyond the human norm–but being eagerly shepherded to the west coast by his eldest bird wasn’t exactly at the top of her to do list.

She does not regret it whatsoever: she learns so much from the Titans–more about how to be a teenager and the vigilante lifestyle than than how to use her abilities–and she, perhaps stereotypically, loiters around Japantown whenever possible.

She enjoys the ambient noise of conversations she can understand without conscious effort. The nice couple who run the taiyaki stand give her freebies whenever they see her, as thanks for stopping a robbery early in her stint as an honorary Titan.

It’s fun, and she does enjoy the missions… but it’s not home.


The woman who sits in Ivy’s garden now is not the same girl who first had the honor, but the guardian venus flytraps butt their heads against her in playful recognition and the air plants reach out their tendrils to her.

If Ivy were one for embarrassment and blushing, she would do so now, but as it is she turns her face away.

Tetsuki smiles, distributing pats to the flytraps and reaching back to let the tendrils wrap around her fingers, her hair. She has more control now, doesn’t worry about damaging them by accident, and that confidence carries itself in her shoulders.

She’s no longer that little girl dragging chains in her bloody footsteps, seeking sanctuary desperately. Now she’s a vigilante, a protector if not a hero, and she’s not going to let herself be afraid.


During an earlier night, when they still communicated mostly through gestures and short, stuttering fragments, Tetsuki awoke from a nightmare, screaming, and slightly on fire.

Luckily for her, the only casualties were the sleeves of her borrowed clothes, otherwise she might have been forcibly ejected from her hostess’ home.

But the woman, despite the near disaster, was kind, gentle. She had held Tetsuki’s tear-ridden face between her hands as if she were precious, dear, as much as the delicate flowers and the angry chomping things standing guard, both.

Tetsuki followed the sound of her voice, soothing and undecipherable, then, back into peaceful sleep: green no longer seemed so frightening.


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