Title: "Like Her Flowers"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Some of the world's most beautiful flowers are also the deadliest.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: 244. That's the number of stories that were sitting on my hard drive collecting dust because I lack the energy and time to take care of them as I once did. My betaing pattern has always been to write, then type up if written on paper, the story, read it aloud to my beloved Jack and our children, editing as I go, and then finally format and post. Sadly, this part is simply taking too much of my time and energy, and my beloved Jack and I have too little time together in person these days to be able to keep up with my stories. So what to do? Give up writing? I actually considered it for a while, tried to make excuses to myself other than the large number of stories collecting cyber dust on my computer, as to why I lacked the energy and Muse to write new tales. And then, with the turn of the new year, I decided to stop running and face the problem. The problem is, quite frankly, that once one gets so bogged down in formatting and editing that writing is no longer a pleasure but the actual posting of those writings becomes a hassle and - egad! - work, it's time to cut something out, and that will never be the writing process. So, in short, yes, there will be mistakes in this tale. Yes, it's missing about half of the header information I usually include. But I wrote it for pleasure and am posting it in hopes of sharing that pleasure with others. Do with it as you will.
Poison flowers smell so sweet. It was something she'd known as a botanist, and something she continued to employ in the role of her new life as Mother Earth's protector. Ivy loved all flowers, but the poisonous ones were her favorites. They were all beautiful, but those who possessed a danger akin to her own, though in much smaller amounts, of course, were the ones most beautiful and the ones with the sweetest scents.
They were her friends, and her calling cards. She covered factories in them. She strangled idiots with them and let them know what was coming to their foolish, selfish hides by blowing the dust of poisonous flowers into their faces. Any corrupt mogul in Gotham, any person who had ever destroyed an innocent plant, tree, or flower, knew what was coming to them the moment they spied a rare orchid she left in their mailbox, on their desk, or on the steps of their very home.
They saw the flower first, and then they saw her. Like her flowers, Ivy's touch was silken. Her beauty called to them so strongly that few men or women could deny the attraction that pulled them straight forward to their deaths. Her touch was soft as a rose's petals as she wrapped her gloved hands around their necks and mouths. She saw the desire in their eyes, the desperate longing to touch what they knew they shouldn't, as her mouth angled in for hers.
When she kissed them, for one rare moment in their lives, the humans felt pure ecstasy, something very few of them had ever experienced before. Even those who had known pleasure never knew a pleasure like that which Ivy poured into them as her tongue slipped into their mouths. But, then, just like the Venus flytrap, she opened up further and ensnared her fly. Poison swept from her touch to fill their bodies.
Every one of them trembled against her in those last, fleeting moments. She'd often smile down at them and remark that they shouldn't play with Mother Nature or touch poison, but all the time, she knew they wouldn't be the last ones. There would always be humans who chose to overlook the poison of the world's rarest beauties, who thought they could get away with cultivating rare flowers like herself without being gripped back by equally hurtful hands, who thought they could rule Mother Nature.
Yet, Ivy knows no one rules Mother Nature. That's why the world's most beautiful plants are poisonous: to protect her beauty and her grace. Every selfish human who wants to possess all that is beautiful will not say no when they know they should. They won't turn from a beautiful thing they can control but, ultimately, never can, and in the end, that beauty will always control them. It will also be the means by which Ivy returns the Earth to her true glory: The selfishness and greed of the human race will continue to do them in every night until there are none of their kind left and only the plants and Ivy remain.
The End