Angel of Darkness [OC x DC]

Ch. 1. Ritual

Start writing yi havent read the dc comics and theres not much on the wiki, so if nyx is ooc (which is expected), dont come at me

i will not be including duke thomas (sad, i know), as if he were to be in this universe i would make him one of the main characters but i know nothing about his powers and dont wanna stuff them up, i will however be including dick, jason, tim, damian, cass and steph

if you dont like her name, just read it as an xreader and reimagine it as something else.

If you like Percy Jackson this might be the book for you? Maybe?

i like to not describe my ocs, so you can imagine her how you wish (her hair will turn black and the iris of her eyes will turn gray, so if you already imagine her to have those features, just ignore it)

i couldve done thunderbird oc (winged with lightning powers) but realised my other oc is so much better and i can do more with it so:

-

Eight year old Ezana stood by the door, eavesdropping on a conversation her father had on the phone. Something about him changed after her mother died. He got more angry and would snap if she annoyed him. It was a hard few months where she constantly felt like she was stepping on eggshells.

"The previous experiments were all failures, yes, I know," he said into the device, pacing his office. "It could have been an issue with their age, though, they might have been impure or too advanced in the head to properly make a connection."

He paused, listening to the other side. He tapped his fingers on the phone restlessly.

"Look, trust me on this, theoretically it will work," he stressed. "She would be much easier to rein in, anyway, so no harm done, right?"

Ezana shifted slightly, trying to decipher what he was saying.

"Good," he sighed and switched off his phone. He ran a hand through his hair. "When this is over," he muttered to himself, "I'll have no connection to this place and can finally leave this hellhole."

Ezana watched confused, as he stepped over to her mother's urn sitting on a wooden shelf. He stroked it gently but the action seemed to be cold and loveless.

"Esther," he whispered, speaking his wife's name. He smiled, "You would hate me for this." He kissed the lid. "Too damn bad, I say."

His daughter watched in horror as he pushed the porcelain jar off the shelf. She muffled a gasp and tears pricked her eyes.

The man stepped on the shards, twisting his foot, further splitting them.

Ezana ran as stealthily as she could at her age. Back down the corridor, to her room and sobbed.

-

"Buckle up, kiddo," her dad said, hand on her shoulder and forcibly guided her to the car.

"Dad," she called, taking a seat tentatively, "where are we going?"

He didn't answer. Ezana clutched onto her fox plush she brought along. The car left the house, trailing dust. The dust brought her thoughts back to her mother's urn the previous day and she blinked back tears.