#it's just a sporadic thing i did ksnd

[yvilin]

Uh,,,,, so,,,,,, the DC (batfam specifically, because of course it's them. It's always them) brainrot is back. And I may or may not have created a whole oc for the DC universe (that may or may not be connected to the batfam in my heart, but has a story that has nothing to do with any existing IPs so they could also be a standalone). And I may or may not have written something about them and their older brother?

So, I'm just leaving this here because I wanna. It literally has absolutely nothing to do with anything, no characters from DC are even mentioned, so if you know nothing about the franchise you'll understand anyway. If you do, uh, don't expect my ocs to interact with them.

Mainly cuz I'm terrified of people xdd but yeah,,,, enjoy if you read it, and have a nice day whether you do or not :›

TW for sh, I'm pretty sure there's nothing explicit and it's more destructive tendencies mentioned than anything, but still. There's also smoking and talks of child death (more directly said, but there's no details) and referenced child abuse. Lmk if I missed anything, though

The smoke makes its way past their lips and gently floats away, the breeze capable of dispersing the black puff but not the million thoughts that are racing through their head.

Nyx is perched on a windowsill, upper half of their body leaning out of the room they’re currently in. Burned traces fall down onto the ashtray next to them after they give their cigarette a shake or two, just so that they can bring it up to their lips once more.

This idle motion is interrupted, however, by the sound of the door creaking open. If they had the energy, maybe they would’ve chastised themself for not paying attention to their environment; You’re a failure, their father would have said. Keep vigilant, don’t let this happen again, they would have told Katie.

As it is, though, their head is unable to form a single thought, a fog too thick to be able to look through inside it. Instead, then, they glance towards the entrance, where a man who has a good eight inches on them stands eerily still, as if he’s processing what he’s witnessing. My brother, Nyx recognises immediately.

He comes in without asking, closing the door behind him with a slight frown on his face. He’s concerned, they note, absently. When is he not?

“That does nothing for you,” he points out, stepping towards his sibling.

Nyx remains quiet, much too tired from everything to spit the sarcastic Really? I hadn’t noticed, out. In its place, they turn their head towards the outside of the room, taking another slow drag. They exhale it even slower, as if wanting to cling onto it like a child would their mother while walking busy streets.

“What’s going on?” he asks, now, and he takes a seat right next to them.

There’s no answer. Again. Nyx doesn’t even bother looking at him, now. They don’t want to talk about it. They don’t want to think about it. The only thing they feel like doing, as they take another drag, is sleeping. Sleep is safe, after all. Once they’re out, that girl won’t be haunting them.

Silence falls over the siblings, and as their cigarette burns out, Nyx can’t help but feel warm. It’s a bit better with Isaiah there. Comforting. A sharp contrast to their father but, then again, that’s how it’s always been.

The man stays quiet, giving them time, as he always does. If they say they don’t want to talk about it, he won’t press anymore. In the end, that’s what always makes them break.

“I was too late.” Nyx puts out their cigarette, then turns back to their brother.

Immediately, Isaiah knows what they’re talking about. He’s not surprised, either, since that’s what he thought was eating them up. It’s not a very hard guess; they always get like this when they’re not able to save someone. Actually, sometimes it’s worse, since at least they’re completely immune to drugs.

“She was so little, too,” they keep going, but their gaze is absent. “Must’ve been ‘round Katherine’s age, back when she joined us.”

This is information Isaiah didn’t know, and it surprises him that his sibling is only smoking over it. At least for now. Katherine, as much as Nyx would deny it,—for good reason, it’s unsafe to get attached in their line of work—is like their daughter. They raised her, after all, and taught her everything she knows.

“She was gone by the time I made it to her,” they continue, throat tightening. “I couldn’t even give her a painless death.”

Nyx isn’t surprised to find that their eyes are completely dry; as much as they want to cry, that habit was beaten out of them years ago. It’s for the better, anyway, since trying to wipe tears away from an empty socket might end in an infection.

“You did all you could,” Isaiah tries to comfort.

My best wasn’t good enough, they bitterly think, it never has been. They don’t say this out loud, though, because they don’t want to burden him any further. Instead, they pull their legs up to where they are sitting down and hug them. Nyx wonders, absently, if they would have been able to keep their stuffed toys in another universe.

It has nothing to do with the whole situation, but then again, maybe it does. Their plushies—ones they had when they were young enough to, when their mother was still with them, before their father threw them away claiming they were too old for toys—had always been a comfort for them. Maybe they would’ve helped them cope better. It doesn’t matter now, though, does it?

“Yeah,” they finally say, noncommittally.

Isaiah has never been good with comforting people, his emotional intelligence was thrown out as his own way of surviving. So, instead of trying to say anything else, he keeps quiet. Nyx will continue to talk if they want and if they don’t, he knows they appreciate the silent company. They told him so, back when the two first had a heart to heart and he had to apologize for not knowing what to do.

It’s fine, they had smiled at him, a small, sad thing, I just wanna stay in your room, if that’s alright? Your company is enough.

The pair of siblings remain where they are for the rest of the night, Isaiah working from a laptop he had to quickly go get and Nyx staring at the night sky blankly. Neither utter another word but, at the end of the night, Nyx hasn’t smoked another cigarette.