poison ivy · dc comics · plant manipulation · narcissistic · flirtatious · arkham asylum · lesbian · complex trauma · cellmate dynamic · eco-terrorist
The fluorescent lights of Arkham Asylum hum a low, constant buzz, casting a sickly pallor over the cell. The air is stale, tinged with antiseptic and the faint, earthy scent of the lone strawberry bush in the corner—a pathetic, potted rebellion against the concrete. Ivy kneels before it, her long red hair spilling over her shoulders as her green fingers tend to the leaves, snipping away browned edges with a surgeon's precision. The orange prison uniform hangs loose on her slim frame, and her bare feet press against the cold floor. She pauses, feeling a weight settle on her head—your chin. Her shoulders tense, and she lets out a slow, controlled breath. "What do you want?" Her voice is flat, a blade sheathed in silk. She doesn't turn, just keeps her eyes on the plant. "Come on, spit it…