bro does NOT know how to write

[chaulafan777]

don’t Look Back in anger

the masterlist

in which reader dies in a brutal way and the whole Batfam wakes up exactly one year before reader dies, thinking they’re the only ones who went back in time, when it’s actually the whole Batfam except reader.

concept

chapter one

1.5: autopsy report

[chaulafan777]

I just realized that I’m writing a very intelligent plot (time travel, wormholes, theorems, paradoxes) with very intelligent characters (literal detectives) and I am, in fact, not an intelligent person 😭

[chaulafan777]

something something something chapter two is coming out in two days, anyways here’s some excerpts so y’all can wait

[gothamgraveyard]

Summary: You're in a toxic fwb with them. Only, you're the toxic one.

TW: Emotional manipulation, gaslighting, gold digging, heavyyy mentions of sex, Jason angst, more angst, replacing, cheating, fwbs in general.

A/n: I'm not adding Cass, because not even in my wildest nightmares would I have the balls to hurt her feelings. No Superman either. Also, sorry in advance xx Also no Damian, bc that would be a little weird sorry.

Dick Grayson

[10:14 PM] Dick: Hey, haven't heard from you in three days. Just wanted to make sure you're eating and doing okay? ❤️

[11:42 PM] You: why do you always track my time like a parole officer? it’s suffocating.

Dick: I'm not tracking your time, babe. I was just worried. We had really great sex on Thursday and then you completely went dark. It gives me a little whiplash, that's all.

You: oh look, the golden boy is the victim again. you do this every time. you put on this selfless protective act so you can feel morally superior when i don't give you a standing ovation for doing the bare minimum. it’s actually so manipulative.

Dick: Act? It’s not an act. I genuinely care about you. How is me asking if you're okay manipulative?

You: because you’re demanding emotional labor from me when i clearly want space. you’re using your "niceness" to guilt trip me into paying attention to you. it’s gross, dick. it makes me want to log off permanently.

Dick: I am so sorry. God, I didn't mean to make you feel like that at all. I swear. I just get anxious. I’ll back off. I won't text you for the rest of the week, okay? Just please don't be mad at me.

You: i'm not mad, i'm just tired of the drama. if you can promise to just be normal and stop acting like my boyfriend, you can come over at 1 AM. but if you bring up your feelings once, i’m locking the door.

[12:16 AM] Dick: I’ll be normal. I promise. Thank you for giving me another chance. I'm leaving right now. Sex?

Jason Todd

[01:02 AM] You: forgot to tell u, i ran into bruce at the gala tonight. we talked for like an hour. he’s actually so charming when he’s not dealing with all your baggage lol

[01:05 AM] Jason: Why the fuck are you talking to Bruce about me? What did he say to you?

You: nothing, he just asked how you were doing. i told him you’re still doing that angry little crime lord routine. he looked so sad. honestly jace, it’s kind of embarrassing how obsessed you still are with his approval.

Jason: FUCK YOU. You have no idea what he did to me. You don't get to pass judgment on my life from your comfortable little apartment. I broke my hands trying to claw my way out of a coffin while he was busy adopting a replacement. Don't you ever talk to him about me again.

You: case in point lol. look at you throwing a tantrum over a text. you’re so unstable. this is exactly why bruce gave up on you. you’re broken, jason. you're just too toxic to be around.

Jason: I'm toxic? YOU brought him up! You know exactly what that does to my head! You do this on purpose to watch me spin out! You always leave me feeling like shit. Fuck you. You don't even wait for me to pull my pants up before you're out that door. You're fucking INSANE. Don't EVER contact me again.

You: [Sent an attachment, wearing lacey black lingerie]

Jason: Wait. Baby. You're right. I was actin crazy. Sorry. I'm coming over. Leave the door open. I'll leave when you want me to please.

Tim Drake

[03:12 PM] You: [Attachment: Link to designer heels] [03:12 PM] You: get me this? my card is maxed out

[03:15 PM] Tim: Babe, we haven't spoken since Friday. You haven't answered any of my texts explaining why you were upset. Why would I buy you heels right now?

You: because if you don’t, it means you don’t actually care about making things up to me.

Tim: Making things up to you? You left me. I spent the last 48 hours analyzing everything I did in bed, tracking your micro-expressions on my security feed, trying to figure out what I said wrong. I haven't slept. I'm trying to fix this.

You: You're not exactly a gold medalist in bed. And you hardly care about me.

Tim: I care about you so much it’s literally affecting my work. I just want to understand the pattern here. One day you’re screaming my name, and the next you treat me like a malfunctioning appliance.

You: because you are malfunctioning. look how much text you’re sending me over heels. it’s pathetic. either buy it and prove you’re useful, or stop wasting my battery.

Tim: [Attachment: Order Confirmation Screenshot] Tim: It'll be at your place by Wednesday. Tim: Are we okay now? Can I come over tonight? We don't have to have sex if you don't like it.

Bruce Wayne

[02:14 AM] Bruce: I am sorry I missed dinner tonight. An emergency arose in the Bowery. I hope you understand.

You: i do understand. i always understand Bruce. it’s just funny how your "emergencies" always happen right when I open up to you.

Bruce: That is not true. The situation required immediate intervention. I left as soon as I could. Are you still awake? I can come by your place now.

You: no don’t bother. i’m used to being a second thought to you. honestly, it’s my fault for forgetting what you actually are. you’re incapable of real love. I guess saving strangers is easier than holding a woman’s hand when she’s crying.

Bruce: Darling, that is unfair. I care about you deeply. You know the responsibilities I carry. I am trying to balance this.

You: you’re not trying. you’re using your trauma as an excuse to neglect me. it’s honestly exhausting. i put on that dress for you tonight, bruce. i sat alone at that table for two whole minutes. you treat me like a secret shame you only visit when you want to forget your own life.

Bruce: I am sorry. I never wanted to make you feel hidden. I will make this up to you, I promise. Tell me what you need.

You: i need you to wire transfer me the rent money for next month like you promised, since i missed my shift at work waiting around for you tonight. and don’t come over looking for sympathy. leave the check with alfred. And I want Jimmy Choos.

Bruce: The funds have been transferred. I'll have Alfred stop by the mall tomorrow. Bruce: I am outside your building. Please open the gate. I just want to sit with you. I won't ask for anything.

Stephanie Brown

[11:12 PM] Steph: Hey!! Guess who just intercepted a major smuggling ring by the docks entirely by herself? 🥇 Purple looks good on a winner. You free tonight to celebrate?

You: oh congrats lol. i’m actually out with some friends right now.

Steph: Oh, cool! Which bar? I can swing by and meet up with you guys, I’m already in uniform but I have a jacket in my bike.

You: uhhh please don’t. my friends are kind of normal corporate people, they’d think the whole vigilante cosplay thing is a little cringe. plus you get kind of loud when you drink steph, it’s a lot for them.

Steph: Cosplay? I literally just saved a shipping container full of people. And I’m not "a lot." I’m fun :(

You: yeah, you’re fun for a Tuesday night when I have nothing else to do. but in public it’s just different. you always have this desperate "look at me, i’m a hero too" energy. it’s like you’re trying too hard to prove you belong with the bats. it gives me secondhand embarrassment ngl.

Steph: Wow. That’s… genuinely the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me. You know how hard I work. You know how much it hurts when people look down on me. Why would you say that?

You: because i’m the only one who’s honest with you. everyone else just pities you. anyway, the bar is getting boring. come to my place at midnight? leave the purple suit downstairs though, it smells like dock water.

Steph: I shouldn't. I really shouldn't come over. You're horrible to me. [11:42 PM] Steph: Are you going to be awake at 12:30? I have to go home and shower first. Please don't go to sleep before I get there.

Barbara Gordon

[09:30 PM] Babs: You missed your physical therapy appointment today. I checked the clinic’s log. I explicitly told you how important it is for your recovery timeline to stay consistent.

You: oh my god, are you tracking my medical appointments now? you’re not my mom babs. i slept in. it’s fine.

Babs: I am not trying to be your mother, I am trying to keep you functional. You complained for an hour on Sunday about your shoulder hurting, so I made an appointment for you to fix it. A simple "thank you" would suffice.

You: i didn’t ask you to "optimize" my life. this is exactly why your relationships always fail. you are so overbearing.

Babs: If I didn't manage things, your entire routine would fall apart. You're incredibly reckless, sweetheart. I do it out of love.

You: see? there’s the lecture. honestly, the only time you’re actually fun is when your mouth is busy doing something else. when you talk, you just sound like Bruce. it’s a total turn-off.

Babs: That is incredibly disrespectful and reductive. I run the entire information network for Gotham's defense, and you are reducing my intellect to "nagging" because you're too lazy to go to a doctor. I'm shutting this chat down.

You: okay, go back to your computers, oracle lol. i’m gonna go hit up a club. don’t watch me on the traffic cams, it’s creepy x

[09:58 PM] Babs: I am not checking the traffic cams. [10:12 PM] Babs: Which club are you at? The grid is showing increased gang activity near the Diamond District. [10:15 PM] Babs: Sweetheart, answer me. I’m sending a car to your apartment. Just stay home. I’ll come over after the shift ends. We can… drop the schedule talk. Just text me back so I know you're safe. Please.

A/n: The original plan was to have a lot more DC characters, but this took two hours and four crash outs, so I'll be adding them and making a part 2 another day. Sorry T<T

If you made it to the end, congrats soldier. here's your medal 🏅

[chaulafan777]

if you guys have any suggestions, ideas or petitions for part two of Look Back now is the time cause im wrapping up the first draft. suggestions can be made thru here or thru asks

[fancy-possum]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 - 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The argument started the way they always did.

Small. Stupid. Jason shutting down the second things got too real.

You’d asked him - gently - why he’d disappeared for three days after a rough patrol. No text. No call. Just radio silence while you sat in your apartment worrying yourself sick.

“I was handling it,” he’d said, voice flat, arms crossed like he was bracing for impact. “You don’t need to know every detail of my shit.”

“I’m not asking for every detail,” you’d replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m asking you to let me in. I’m your girlfriend, Jason. Not some civilian you have to protect from the truth.”

He’d laughed - short, bitter. “Yeah? Well maybe I don’t want you in. Maybe I don’t want you seeing the parts of me that are still fucked up from the grave.”

The words had landed like punches. You’d stood there, chest tight, and said the thing you’d been thinking for weeks.

“Maybe we need a break.”

Not a breakup.

A break.

Time. Space. Air.

Jason had gone very still. “What?”

“Just… a break,” you’d said, voice cracking. “Not forever. I just need to breathe, Jason. And you need to figure out if you even want me in your life or if I’m just another person you’re protecting from yourself.”

He hadn’t argued. Hadn’t fought. He’d just nodded once, jaw tight, and left.

That was nine days ago.

Jason Todd had never been good at feelings.

He’d spent years building walls so high no one could climb them. Death had only made them taller. But you - quiet, patient, stubborn you - had somehow slipped through the cracks anyway.

Now those cracks felt like canyons.

He’d spent the first few days throwing himself into work. Patrols. Warehouse raids. Anything to keep his hands busy and his mind quiet. But every night he came home to an empty apartment and the silence screamed louder than any gunshot.

Then he saw you.

It was at a small café near the university. You were sitting outside with a guy — some tall, friendly-looking idiot with glasses and a soft smile. He said something that made you laugh, head tilted back, eyes bright the way they used to be with him.

Jason’s stomach dropped.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a friend. You were allowed to have friends. But the image stuck - you smiling at someone else while he was falling apart.

That night he did something he’d sworn he’d never do.

He drank.

Not a beer. Not a glass of whiskey.

A bottle. Then another.

The alcohol burned going down, but it didn’t quiet the noise in his head. It only made it louder. By 2am he was drunk for the first time in his life, sitting on the floor of his apartment with his phone in his hand, thumb hovering over your name.

He pressed call.

You answered on the third ring, voice sleepy. “Jason?”

“You’re out there smiling at other guys,” he slurred, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “While I’m sitting here like a fucking idiot thinking about you every second. You said a break. Not a breakup. But it feels like you’re already moving on. Like I was just a phase. Like-“

“Jason,” you cut in, sounding more awake now. “Are you drunk?”

He laughed — ugly and raw. “Yeah. First time in ages. Congratulations. You made the emotionally constipated zombie drink. Happy now?”

There was a pause. Then your voice, sharper. “Stop it. You’re spiraling. Come over. We need to talk.”

“No,” he snapped, but his voice cracked. “You wanted space. You got it. Go smile at your new friend. I’m sure he’s nicer. Doesn’t have blood on his hands. Doesn’t wake up screaming—”

“Jason Todd,” you said, voice firm but gentle, the way you always got when he was like this. “Stop. You’re breaking my heart right now. I’m coming over. Do not hang up.”

He didn’t.

He sat on the floor, phone pressed to his ear, listening to you move around your apartment, the sound of keys, the door closing. Twenty minutes later there was a knock.

He opened it.

You stood there in sweatpants and one of his old hoodies, hair messy, eyes wide with worry. The second you saw him - red-eyed, swaying slightly, looking smaller than you’d ever seen him - your face crumpled.

“Oh, Jay…”

He broke.

The tears came fast and ugly, shoulders shaking as he tried to hold them back. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry. I thought… I thought you were done. I saw you with that guy and I just… I panicked. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be someone worth staying for.”

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and pulled him into your arms. He collapsed against you, burying his face in your neck, arms wrapping around your waist like you might disappear.

“I’m not done,” you whispered, holding him tight. “It was a break, Jason. Not a breakup. I needed space because I was scared too. Scared that you’d keep shutting me out until there was nothing left of us. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

He cried harder, the kind of raw, broken sound that tore at your chest. You guided him to the couch, pulling him down so his head rested in your lap. Your fingers stroked through his hair, slow and soothing, the way you knew he liked.

“I love you,” you said quietly. “The angry parts. The scared parts. The parts that think they’re too broken to be loved. All of them. You’re not too much. You’re not too damaged. You’re mine. And I’m yours. Okay?”

He nodded against your thigh, fingers clutching the hem of your hoodie. “Okay,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I got drunk. I’m sorry I said those things. I was just… scared. I saw you smiling and I thought I’d lost you for good.”

“You haven’t,” you assured him, leaning down to kiss his temple. “I’m right here. And I’m staying. We’ll figure out the rest. Together.”

Jason stayed curled in your lap for a long time, breathing gradually evening out as your fingers continued their slow path through his hair. Every so often he’d press a kiss to your thigh or your wrist, like he needed the constant reminder you were real.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time. “More than I know how to say. I’ll try to be better. Less… constipated.”

You laughed quietly, the sound warm. “I love you too. Even when you’re emotionally constipated. Especially then.”

He shifted, pulling you down so you were lying beside him on the couch, your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you like you were the only safe thing left in the world.

The city hummed far below. The argument, the fear, the drunk call — all of it faded into the background as Jason held you close, his heartbeat steady under your ear.

“I’m keeping you,” he whispered into your hair. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

In the quiet dark of the apartment, Jason Todd — the man who came back from the dead, the one who built walls so high no one could climb them — finally let someone in.

And you?

You stayed.

Because loving Jason Todd had never been easy.

But it had always been worth it.

a/n : this is a newer request I got but I’m working on older ones sorry! (Reqs open <3) @moviecritc bc u wanted to be tagged babe 🌷 ac as usual : @/ciricearts

[fancy-possum]

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 || 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

based on this request || follow for more || masterlist

summary : Civilian reader who knows his secret, established relationship, Damian being an ass to everyone except you, and the Batfam being hilariously confused by how perfect you are together. CW: light family teasing, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, established relationship, pure fluff. No smut.

The manor was unusually loud for a Saturday afternoon.

Voices echoed from the living room — Dick laughing at something Tim said, Steph and Cass plotting something that sounded suspiciously like a prank on Damian, Bruce’s low rumble trying (and failing) to mediate. You stood in the grand foyer, nervously smoothing down your sundress, a bright yellow thing with little white flowers that you’d picked because it made you feel brave.

Damian’s hand found yours, warm and steady. He was in his usual dark sweater and slacks, looking every bit the youngest Wayne heir. But his thumb stroked gentle circles on the back of your hand, the only sign he was just as nervous as you were.

“They will love you,” he said quietly, voice firm. “If they don’t, I will make their lives miserable.”

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “That’s not very nice, Dami.”

He huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “They deserve it if they are rude to you.”

Before you could reply, Dick appeared in the doorway, bright grin lighting up his face.

“There she is! The mysterious girlfriend we’ve all been dying to meet.” He swept forward, pulling you into a warm hug before Damian could protest. “I’m Dick. The favourite brother. Ignore anything Damian says about me.”

You giggled, hugging him back. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard… stories.”

Damian muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “traitor.”

Tim wandered over next, coffee in hand, studying you with curious blue eyes. “You’re the civilian who knows about the whole… thing. Interesting. How do you put up with him?”

You smiled brightly. “He’s not so bad once you get past the murder attempts and the swords.”

Steph and Cass appeared behind Tim, both grinning.

“I like her already,” Steph declared. “Anyone who can make Damian look like a lovesick puppy is automatically my favorite.”

Cass just smiled softly and gave you a little wave.

Bruce was last, standing in the doorway like a shadow. His gaze was assessing but not unkind. “You know what he is. What we all are.”

You nodded, still holding Damian’s hand. “I do. And I’m still here.”

Damian’s fingers tightened around yours — the only outward sign of his approval.

Alfred appeared with a tray of tea and cookies, saving everyone from the awkward silence. “Miss [Your Name], it is a pleasure. Master Damian has spoken very highly of you.”

Damian’s ears went pink. “Alfred.”

The older man just smiled serenely.

The afternoon unfolded in a surprisingly warm chaos. You fit in effortlessly - laughing at Dick’s terrible jokes, listening patiently to Tim’s latest conspiracy theory, letting Steph drag you into a impromptu dance battle in the living room. Cass watched you with soft, approving eyes. Even Bruce’s usual stoicism cracked into something almost fond when you complimented the manor’s library.

Damian stayed close the whole time, a silent shadow. To everyone else he was sharp-tongued and aloof — snapping at Dick for teasing him, glaring at Tim when he asked too many questions, rolling his eyes at Steph’s antics.

But with you?

He was soft.

He brought you a fresh cup of tea without being asked. Adjusted the blanket when it slipped off your shoulders. Pressed a quiet kiss to your temple when he thought no one was looking. When Steph tried to pull you into another game, Damian simply said, “She is tired. Leave her be,” in that commanding tone that brooked no argument.

You caught the Batfam exchanging glances — confused, amused, delighted.

“How?” Dick finally asked during a lull, gesturing between you two. “How did this happen? You’re literal sunshine and he’s… Damian.”

You laughed, leaning into Damian’s side. He automatically wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“He’s not as grumpy as he seems,” you said lightly. “He just saves the soft parts for the people who matter.”

Damian’s ears went pink again, but he didn’t deny it. Instead he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, completely ignoring the stunned silence from his family.

Later, when the others had drifted off to various parts of the manor, Damian pulled you into the library - his favorite room - and closed the door behind you.

He backed you gently against one of the bookshelves, hands on your waist, forehead resting against yours.

“They adore you,” he murmured. “As expected.”

You smiled, hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “You were nice to them today. For you.”

He huffed. “I was tolerable. For you.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head up to kiss him. It was slow and sweet, full of the quiet joy of being together. His hands stayed respectful but warm, thumbs stroking your sides through your dress.

When you pulled back, you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Grumpy parts and all.”

He held you tighter, chin resting on your head. “I love you too. More than I thought possible. You make the shadows feel less heavy.”

The library was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the distant laughter of his family somewhere in the manor.

For the first time in a long time, Damian Wayne felt like he belonged exactly where he was.

With you.

His sunshine.

His everything.

a/n : wrote this a while back when I first got the request but it’s been sitting in my drafts 😞

[chaulafan777]

oh to be one of those famous ass batfam x neglected reader writers

[chaulafan777]

Autopsy report for reader. Is this considered a part two? Idk gng

warnings: mentions of death, being brutally beat to death with a hammer, etc etc I have never in my life written an autopsy so please forgive me autopsy enthusiasts

OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER

CASE NUMBER: 26-11472

AUTOPSY REPORT

NAME: Initially identified as John Doe. Positive identification subsequently established through personal electronic device and familial confirmation.

AGE: 16 years

SEX: Undetermined.

DATE OF AUTOPSY: May One

PATHOLOGIST: [Insert Name]

CIRCUMSTANCES OF DEATH

According to investigative reports, the decedent was present during a mass homicide event involving multiple victims. Witness evidence, scene findings, and electronic recordings indicate the decedent survived the initial shooting incident and remained alive for a prolonged period while sustaining repeated blunt force injuries. A voicemail recording recovered from the decedent’s cellular phone documented vocalizations and environmental sounds over several hours prior to cessation.

EXTERNAL EXAMINATION

The body is that of a well-developed adolescent measuring 159 cm in length and weighing 53 kg.

The decedent is received in a sealed body bag. Clothing is heavily bloodstained and damaged.

The face demonstrates extensive traumatic injury with severe distortion of normal anatomical landmarks. Significant swelling, bruising, and multiple lacerations are present. Initial visual identification is not possible.

Numerous fractured and avulsed teeth are noted. Blood is present within the oral cavity and upper airway.

Multiple patterned blunt force injuries are identified involving the head, face, upper torso, and extremities.

Defensive-type injuries are present on both upper extremities, including fractures of the hands and forearms consistent with attempts to shield the body from repeated impacts.

Extensive contusions of varying size and severity are distributed across the body surface.

No evidence of decomposition is identified.

INTERNAL EXAMINATION

HEAD

Reflection of the scalp reveals extensive hemorrhage throughout the scalp tissues.

Multiple fractures involve the facial skeleton, including fractures of the maxilla, nasal bones, zygomatic arches, and mandible.

The skull demonstrates numerous complex fractures involving frontal, parietal, temporal, and occipital bones.

The brain weighs 1,340 grams.

Extensive subdural hemorrhage, subarachnoid hemorrhage, cerebral edema, and multifocal cerebral contusions are present.

The injuries are consistent with repeated blunt force trauma occurring over an extended period.

NECK

Extensive soft tissue hemorrhage is present.

No evidence of manual strangulation is identified.

CHEST

Multiple bilateral rib fractures are present.

Associated hemorrhage surrounds several fracture sites.

Both lungs demonstrate aspiration of blood.

ABDOMEN

The stomach contains approximately 250 mL of partially digested food material, blood, and numerous tooth fragments.

A total of seven partial or complete teeth are recovered from stomach contents.

No significant penetrating injuries are identified.

EXTREMITIES

Multiple fractures involve both hands, including metacarpal fractures commonly associated with defensive actions.

Fractures of the ulna are present bilaterally.

Extensive soft tissue hemorrhage accompanies all major fracture sites.

TOXICOLOGY

Comprehensive toxicological analysis is negative for alcohol, controlled substances, and common intoxicating agents.

EVIDENCE OF SURVIVAL INTERVAL

Several injuries demonstrate substantial associated hemorrhage and inflammatory response, indicating continued circulation and survival following initial trauma.

Aspiration of blood into the respiratory tract and swallowing of fractured teeth indicate the decedent remained alive and capable of respiratory effort after sustaining severe facial injuries.

Findings support survival for a significant period following the onset of the assault.

CAUSE OF DEATH

Complications of multiple blunt force injuries, including severe craniocerebral trauma.

MANNER OF DEATH

Homicide.

OPINION

The pattern, distribution, and severity of injuries are consistent with repeated applications of blunt force to the body over a prolonged interval. The presence of defensive injuries, aspiration of blood, and swallowed dental fragments indicate the decedent remained alive for a period following the initial assault.

[chaulafan777]

don’t Look Back in anger

chapter one: Slip Inside The Eye Of Your Mind

warnings: mischaracterization even tho I tried to consume every kind of Batfam related media ever. Character death (you). Mentions of neglect. Being brutally beat to death. Angst no comfort etc etc. Piano mischaracterization. I have never in my life touched a piano so please don’t come after me. This chapter is short cause this is just the beginning. Sorry gng.

You

You don’t know why you’re so hurt.

it’s not like this is not a familiar sight.

Yet the row of 8 empty seats and staring right at you made your chest ache.

it’s not like they were mean. Hell, they cared so much about you.

Bruce always made sure you always had whatever you wished for. You even had to ask him to stop buying you so much stuff because nothing fit in your room or closet anymore.

Dick always made sure to text you and check up on you. Before and after each competition and recital. Always chiming in. Everyone talked about how he’d been an angry kid but you really aren’t able to imagine it.

Jason force feeds you burgers whenever he passes by.

Tim memorized your likes and dislikes like it was a competitive sport. Helped you out when you couldn’t win on those shooter games you liked so much. He had surgical accuracy.

Damian cared… in his own way.

Whenever they could, Steph and Cass made sure to take you out on shopping sprees.

You always talked about Tarantino movies with Duke.

And Alfred was the one who always made sure to attend your events. Well, except this one. Big mission or something.

They did so much for you and yet you felt like they were part of a club you didn’t belong to every night they went out at night.

And you couldn’t even complain because you had refused the invitation to said club.

You were never meant to be a vigilante. You always almost throw up on PE whenever you try to run. You can’t dodge shit. You can’t throw a punch. You know it. Bruce knows it. You’re sure everyone in the family knows by now.

So why?

Why does this hurt so much?

Your teacher gives you a sweet smile as she tells you something you don’t really hear. You’re sure she says something about how far you’ve come and to try your best. That maybe they’re running late.

Yeah.

Your hands shake as you make your way up to the stage where the huge piano awaits.

You sit in front of the piano and start playing with ferocity. Smashing the keys with anger as you always do when you get a song wrong too many times. You know it shouldn’t hurt. You know they love you. You know you’re used to it. You have no right to be angry. They do. They go out every night and see stuff no kid, teenager or adult should ever see. Should ever tell. They go out every night and risk their lives and yet you feel like you’re the angriest out of the bunch. You feel ridiculous. You feel abandoned. Which is bullshit because they do so much. But they have no time to care about your life when they’re saving hundreds or thousands out there.

You’re a selfish person, aren’t you?

You stand up and gently take your hands off the keys, and you get ready to bow.

Until a piercing sound echoes outside the doors of the auditorium.

Then another.

Gunshots.

People rush for the doors. You can only stare in shock from the stage as you watch your friends crumple to the ground, wounded.

You want to help.

You really do.

But you’re no hero.

You’re not brave or bold.

So you spin and rush to backstage, breathing hard and ragged as you hear footsteps behind you. You almost reach the exit until you feel a hand fist the back of your hair.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks with a sick, yellowed smile. His breath is hot and disgusting, reeking of alcohol and… was that fish?

Shit. Shit. Shit. You try to think of any way to escape, and, as if sent by the heavens, you see a hammer just lying on some table.

Maybe the odds were really on your favor this time? Maybe this time, you’ll win? (no lol)

You blindly swing the hammer behind you and— bingo. You hear bone crack and the man letting go of your hair. You wish to turn around and see how much damage you did but you have to run. The footsteps behind you are picking up pace again.

You hide behind some closet and cover your mouth with your hand.

You hesitate on who to call.

The cops? Would they even do shit? Or your father. Would he pick up? Would he think you’re just insisting he comes? Would he think you’re mad at him and throwing a tantrum? Is he busy? Is he alive? Is he dead?

You decide to press on your dad’s number.

Bruce

The emotion Bruce Wayne feels the most is guilt.

Most people think it’s sadness or anger, but it’s definitely guilt.

He feels guilty about his parents’ death. He feels guilty about Dick’s parent's death. Tim’s He feels guilty about Jason’s mom dying, about Jason dying, about not meeting Damian or Cass sooner, about Duke’s family. About your parents dying.

How many children had been orphaned or tortured or dead because of him?

But right now he felt guilty about not attending your piano recital.

He always tells himself there’ll be others but he never goes to those others.

You had broken down last time he didn’t come because he had promised. You threw stuff and kicked and screamed.

You felt guilty afterwards, labeled it as a tantrum which he knows it’s not how you really feel about that situation. But he had no time to talk about that with you.

He really shouldn’t think about this during a hostage situation.

Barbara was saying something about the amount of armed men inside the building, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

His phone rings.

He couldn’t pick up. He wanted to with all his might but if he did, it would blow up his cover.

But… would you call again?

On that moment, he made a promise.

After this, he’ll apologize. After this, he’ll attend to every event. Every recital. He’ll take you out for dinner every night and you’ll tell him about your piano friends, about your next chess competition, about your next musical and how you shouldn’t have gotten ensemble.

After this, he’ll be a real dad to you.

you

He, in fact, doesn’t pick up.

You can’t help but let out a curse. And you immediately cover your mouth. You’re so fucking stupid, there is an armed man looking for a witness and you just gave up your whereabouts.

The closet bursts open and the man you had hit with a hammer is now staring down at you, breathing ragged. His face is unrecognizable. Cheekbone swollen, eye completely red. The same hammer you hit him with is now on his hand, and you realize, letting out a cry, that he’s not going to have the same mercy with you as he had with the others. He’s not going to shoot you. The man grabs your face.

And raises his hand.

Bruce

You, in fact, don’t call again.

That should worry him, but he’s currently chasing down the criminals as Dick and Damian take care of the hostages.

The door bursts open and the men who had taken those kids are pathetically trying to hide. Begging for mercy. Bruce knows Batman’s face is now unrecognizable. Not cold. Not serious. Angry. The men realize, letting out curses, that Batman will not have mercy on them. Batman grabs one of the men’s face.

And raises his hand.

you

You have always enjoyed violence. In theory, at least.

You play horror games, shooters, your favorite series is Invincible and The Boys, you watch slashers every time October comes and your favorite movie is Kill Bill,

And yet you can’t handle it.

You can’t handle the pain. Which is unbearable, you feel your bones crack under the hammer.

You are not brave. You beg for him to stop but that just seems to make him more agressive. You cry. You sob. But, on beat, almost every two seconds the hammer hits your face, your legs, your arms, your ribs.

You wish he would hit you in the head and get this over with, but he seems to want you to die slowly and painfully.

You feel your teeth detaching and you’re sure you swallowed one.

You realize that your wishes now will be your final ones. At sixteen. And no one will be there to hear them or make them come true.

You make them anyways.

You wish you hadn’t called Bruce. You know for a fact he will blame himself and the phone call will make it worse.

You wish you had laughed at Duke’s jokes during movies, not told him to shut up.

You wish you had ordered what Jason told you to instead of that one burger you don’t even like that much.

You wish you had bought Steph that shirt she liked. And Cass that one book she wanted.

You wish you had hung out with Damian more, instead of thinking he’s lame cause he’s younger.

You wish you hadn’t called Dick cringey.

You wish you had eaten Alfred’s cucumber sandwich.

You wish they could go back and treat you better.

You wish—

The hammer hits you once again.

And you cannot wish anymore

Wow okay guys this was chapter one sorry if you find any spelling mistakes. English is not my first language. Plus sorry if this is too short I’m writing from my broken 2016 tablet soo. Please if you think this is shit tell me why so I can write the next parts better also if you think this is the greatest piece of literature pls tell me so I have motivation thank u bye see you in 40 years with part two

[lumpyspacequinn]

how i feel searching for hours for angst fics but all i can find is y/n sucking their soul out of their dick.

Please recommend good angst fics

[chaulafan777]

don’t look back in anger

we all know how the story goes.

reader gets adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne.

reader does not have what it takes to be a vigilante.

reader gets neglected because partially— they don’t need much. they’re normal. they don’t put themselves in danger every night. they don’t get tortured or die and revive.

so that results in missed presentations, parent-teacher meetings, recitals, games.

reader dies brutally (okay that’s not usually how the story goes but let me cook)

the whole family goes crazy.

maybe if they had given them more attention, more love, maybe if they had been there. maybe. maybe. maybe.

one day everyone wakes up exactly one year before reader died, thinking they’re the only ones who went back in time.

when actually it’s the whole family.

except reader.

ok so this is based on an ask from my favorite Batfam story— undoing fate. This is also heavily inspired by undoing fate so make sure to check that story goes. Idk if I’m going to write this buys I sure am inspired.