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gotham-daydreams · 8 months

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Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

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How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

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Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

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Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

#this was all written in one go #so that's fun #more angst than anything honestly #not really any yan but it is supposed to be for yan stuff #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #neglected reader #sibling reader #reader tries too hard and does their best but finds out it isn't enough #some things just aren't meant to be #but that doesn't mean they get to run around scott free either #not series

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mcybree · 5 months

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On 3l!Jimmy and guilt and FH and various tangential things: a post that got out of hand and morphed into something completely different by the end. Enjoy?

I read a good Jimmy analysis post a while back on how important Jimmy’s pride is to him, and how he’ll back himself up when no one else will, often to his own detriment. And this is such a key part of his character, right. Jimmy doesn’t often withdraw or get all nervous and shy when bad shit happens to him, he gets louder and angry and all riled up about it. He projects his insecurities outwards and then picks battles over anything he perceives as an insult.

So it is strange how that seems to be… almost missing in third life. In that series specifically, he withdraws more often than not, he fears making independent decisions, and he makes concessions he typically would rather make a stupid hill to die on than consider:

Joel and Martyn tell Jimmy they feel lied to, and Jimmy is quick to ask how he can make it up to them, agreeing to give them cows for free. Jimmy is threatened by Grian and Scar into giving up his diamond chestplate and he folds easily, then goes home to tell Scott he just “wasn’t thinking.” Jimmy gets blown up by Grian’s tnt trap and says the walls around the flower valley need to go up, he says he’s never leaving his house again, and after it’s all settled he’s afraid to even walk home without Scott.

Honestly the only time he ever picks a fight in true Jimmy fashion is in Episode 1 with Martyn over some stupid sign placement, and then with the red army negotiations when he burned the banner— but that, notably, wasn’t a personal pride thing! It was a very Jimmy way to go about it, but he got defensive because he thought they were going to hurt Scott, and spitting in their faces was the best way he knew how to protect him (as this is how Jimmy typically protects himself).

He’s just very tame, overall. Defanged. He doesn’t stand up for himself like he usually does.

And yknow. If I had to take just. A personal guess as to why that is. I think the difference primarily stems from 3l!Jimmy’s tendency to take on personal blame for things that aren’t even his fault. A Jimmy character feeling bad about the things he’s done isn’t new, he often does do regrettable things, but what sets 3l!Jimmy apart is that he excessively self blames for what are often unsubstantiated reasons.

Grian’s tnt trap triple kill (emphasis on Grian’s) is the most dramatic example. After Jimmy accidentally activates it, he repeatedly stresses just how bad he feels about it, and apologizes to skizz directly, telling him he feels like he’s “ruined everything.” Jimmy blames himself entirely for this incident, to the point where it allows for him and Scott to team up with desert duo, who DIRECTLY SET UP the trap and OUTRIGHT TOOK CREDIT FOR the kills, in the next episode without even a mention of caution or bitterness. This is irrational; if Jimmy were to ask any given person if they genuinely think the deaths were ENTIRELY his fault, I don’t think anybody would seriously say that it was.

Except for Scott. Scott would say it is, and that’s the issue. He did say it, actually, first implying it (“Jimmy I told you that we needed to shoot it from a distance!”) but then outright telling him (“You killed two people!”)*. Scott later backpedals a bit, telling Jimmy that it was Grian and Scar who gave him the loaded gun, and it wasn’t him that brought it. While nice, that sentiment was seemingly too little too late.

* (both of these are said in the scene at about 25:33, ep4 of Scott’s pov in case anyones curious. assuming my timestamps from a year ago are correct if theyre not lmk. I also have rough timestamps for like everything else referenced in here in one big document so if anyone needs them feel free to ask)

This is all to say: I think Jimmy’s self blaming tendencies and, by extension, his unusual lack of self confidence this season are a result of his relationship with Scott. While the TNT trap incident was the catalyst for those feelings being brought so front and center, I believe that Scott created an environment which normalized Jimmy taking on personal blame for things aren’t his fault beforehand, or at the very least disproportionate amounts of it (so when he legitimately fucks up and makes a disastrous mistake, it’s the only thing he thinks to do). Primarily because Scott, himself, blames Jimmy for a lot of things, but also because Jimmy doesn’t understand the motivations behind a lot of how Scott treats him, and has to retroactively fill in the blanks with what makes sense. Full transparency: I am staking this ladder claim on both his undying admiration for Scott seen throughout the entire series that would require a thought process like this to support, and one (1) interaction between him and Martyn in episode 1. However, I’d still argue it’s a significant interaction.

MARTYN: I just seen you get slapped around, like what’s- what’s going on?

JIMMY: I just- Y’know- just. well we’re living opposite each other…

MARTYN: Are you happy living with Scott?

JIMMY: WE’RE LIVING— We’re living opposite each other! And he builds fantastic. And mine just looks like- I’m just not a builder, y’know? Just not a builder.

And. Personally. To me. Answering “What’s going on?” with “I’m just not a builder” in regards to Scott pushing him around implies that Jimmy made a connection between him being a bad builder and Scott’s reaction. In reality, Scott “slapped him around” because Jimmy showed up too early for a deal that he didn’t know about. But Jimmy doesn’t accept that as the reason, and instead traces it back to a personal fault, something he will go on to make a habit of until he dies in the desert.

After all, it becomes very easy to explain away various mishaps and misfortunes as “oh I’m just not a builder” or “oh I must not have been thinking,” when Scott’s favorite activity is implying Jimmy is incompetent and can’t be trusted to do anything on his own. (Some fun scott quotes being “why do I let you do things” “as long as we dont let jimmy do anything we’ll be fine,” and most directly, “see that’s why I said, ‘I dont trust Jimmy with anything’ because he’s incompetent”)

And it’s funny, right? Because Jimmy isn’t one to just let people put him down like that. When other people in other series tell Jimmy that his house is ugly, Jimmy will defend it with pride and stand up for it twice as much to compensate. But when Scott calls his house ugly, he tells Scott to stay put while he quickly runs to try and fix it, and then hurries back to ask if it’s better. Because he admires Scott, he never stops admiring him, he’s always expressing that (“you’re good at everything” “you’re full of good ideas, aren’t you?” “how are you such a good builder?”). And he doesn’t get defensive when Scott says these things, not in the same way— He tries to, but it comes across more desperate than anything (“say something good about me!”) because he places Scott on such a high pedestal and yearns for that approval. Scott is different.

This is how, despite all odds, it gets to him. And it changes how Jimmy perceives himself. Scott doesn’t trust Jimmy not to fuck up any given task, so Jimmy doesn’t trust himself in later episodes, especially post-Dogwarts explosion. The cake scene, while admittedly a very cute moment (so I do hate to cite this here but it’s a good example), works because Scott left a cake in Jimmy’s room without saying anything, and knew that the first thing Jimmy would do is get scared and come get him. Because that is the first thing 3l!Jimmy thinks to do when he’s scared! And it’s entirely unsurprising how it got that way! In the very first episode, Scott tells Jimmy that if it wasn’t for Scott finding him in the beginning, he would’ve been the first to die. It’s generally a joke to point to fh and go “Jimmy is like Scott’s pet lol, Jimmy is like a lost puppy without Scott” but there really is some truth in that, and I find that to be somewhat haunting considering Jimmy takes so much pride in his independence usually. Jimmy’s hesitance towards making independent decisions can also be traced back to Scott finding Jimmy’s independent decisions inherently frustrating but that’s already part of the FH dissection essay I have in my drafts and this post is long enough already. There’s also a whole other discussion to be had about how Scott’s say is the final say no matter what and Jimmy knows that which further deincentivizes independent decision making (REPEATEDLY POINTS TO “I’ll try and sweet talk him, but if he starts hitting me, what can I do?”) but that is also for the essay

I dont know where I was going with this. I think I made my point in the third paragraph but I feel lots of things about these characters and have lots to say so as I kept writing I got more and more emotional and now I think I’ve driven my little block people shaped autism car into a brick wall. I think I’m going to go throw up and then let the earth reclaim me. yeaj that sounds good

TL;DR: girl I dont even know

#TRIED SO HARD TO MAKE THIS A LIGHT READ BY LIKE. BEING VAGUE ABOUT SCOTT HITTING HIM EVEN THOUGH I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ON THAT #FH FANS IM BEGGING. DONT READ THIS ONE #deranged.fh.posting #tw abuse #< I FUCKING GUESS #sorry I was going to make this post eventually. it was going to happen it was inevitable #i debated actually postinf this for like three hours i really cant go back on this now #and I have ten million more things to say this is like only one aspect of my thoughts on this its been bottled up in my little brain

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