#idk why they act like its an actual hate crime against him to observe that his dick dont work
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More Than One Way to Skin a Cat
Daminette fic
Is this a crack fic? It’s probably a crack fic idk sorryyyyy but I wrote it when I was really tired and the concept was hilarious to me.
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The Justice League received an anonymous tip and Batman was the first to go to Paris. He saw the way the akumas infected the innocent due to the acts of a butterfly-themed terrorist and immediately called for backup.
He and Tim tracked down Ladybug and the Black cat. What they found, frankly, disgusted them.
The level of power manipulation and sexual harassment made their blood boil. Chat noir repeatedly showed up late to fights, flirted obnoxiously, then stormed off when his advances were rejected. The only times he agreed to help were when Ladybug allowed him to throw himself all over her. Her disgust and frustration were palpable, but tabloid magazines praised the relationship and fueled his behavior.
When they joined the heroes in meetings, he consistently talked over her, negated her opinions, and generally interfered so little got done. It took Nightwing coming and actually losing his temper (a terrifying sight) for him to shut up.
But the self righteous twat was back at it by the next meeting.
“Ladybug, please,” Red Robin begged, after watching him demand a kiss to use his cataclysm on one of the toughest battles they had observed so far. “Why don’t you get rid of him? Can’t you take his miraculous?”
She sighed, rubbing her fingers through her hair. “Don’t you think I would have thought of that? I can’t. Without balance, the miraculous don’t work. They can corrupt the holders. And I’m not the guardian, I can’t just demand it. You’ve seen it, he doesn’t listen. Not to me, not to anyone.”
When Damian Wayne went undercover as a Parisian student, the tale only got worse.
“That Agreste asshole treats her horribly. He’s a coward and a fake,” he growled. “A regular 17-year-old baby.”
“Wait,” Tim asked incredulously, “He knows?”
“Of course not, he’s a vapid idiot who doesn’t understand he is dealing with the most wonderful person alive.”
“Uh oh,” Jason crowed, upside down on a chair. “Sounds like someone’s stepped in it.”
“Stepped in what.”
Dick cartwheeled by the door. “Love, Dami.”
His face turned as red as the spotted suit and Tim laughed himself off the chair.
...
Damian hated the catboy. He hated the way he took advantage of Marinette. Sweet Marinette, who warned him about Lila, offered her friendship, and fed him bakery treats when she found out he skipped breakfast. Marinette who held his hand when she got too overwhelmed and managed to fend off an akuma in the middle of a panic attack. Who held the city of Paris on her shoulders without complaint. Damian wanted to tear Chat’s eyeballs from his head. But he couldn’t. Because he would turn on them in an instant if he thought someone was taking his prize.
What could they do?
Well, Robin had an idea.
...
Ladybug walked into the conference room with a green face and a leather jacket. “Aw, my lady, you know what it does to me, how puurfect that suit hugs your-“
“Oh my gosh!” A voice gasped, and Chat was knocked away onto his own feet.
Ladybug found herself pulled between the human walls of Red Hood and Nightwing, who winked at her.
She just felt confused.
“Ohmygoshohmygosh are you Chat Noir?”
Robin babbled, high pitched and with big facial expressions. Chat winked and he squealed.
Red Robin was really glad he was recording this from multiple angles.
Robin grabbed his biceps. “You’re like the coolest superhero even, your so brave and awesome, and your cataclysm is like the best thing I’ve ever seen!”
Chat preened and sent a pointed look towards Ladybug. He threw an arm around Robin and gestures broadly. “It’s hard being Paris’s savior, I’ll admit. But with perks like that hottie, who can complain?”
“Oh. My. Gosh. Are you, and her, together together?”
“You could say that,” Chat winked suggestively.
Ladybug swallowed the vomit in her mouth.
Robin grabbed his phone. “Could I get a picture, please, that would be just, so cool.”
“Of course, anything for a fan.” They took several poses and pictures before Batman cleated his throat.
“I think it’s time we start the meeting.”
“Whatever, buzz kill. Hey kid, wanna sit by me?”
“Of course, Mr. Noir, sir!” Robin began pumping his hand enthusiastically. A handshake with both of his around Chat’s one. “It was so great to meet you and you’re such a great hero!”
Chat soaked up the praise like a sponge in the desert.
“And you’re so cool-“
He fluffed his hair with his free hand.
“-and I’m such a big fan-“
He grabbed at Marinette as she walked to her seat. She looked horrified and smacked him away.
“and- wait a minute.” Robin’s voice dropped as the transformation did. Chat’s face went from smug to shocked to outraged in a second. “No. That’s right. That’s Cat Woman. Not Mange Baby.”
“You thief!” Agreste shrieked, jumping forward. “That’s my-“
Damian punched him in the nose. He stumbled back, falling onto his rump.
“You- you!”
“Adrien,” a shaky voice called. Marinette paled on the other side of the table. “You- you’re Chat? This whole time, you’ve been the one...”
Adrien tried to interrupt and Robin kicked his ribs.
A black blob zapped out of the ring and floated around Robin’s head.
“Not bad, kid,” It purred. “Not bad.”
It then turned toward Adrien and growled. The dark energy around it grew, and the growl vibrated long and deep, resonating in their very bones.
Ladybug was the only one that remained calm. The bat clan staggered backwards.
“Adrien Agreste,” the god boomed. “You have abused the power of the miraculous. You have behaved with disgust and contempt toward your responsibility and partner. For your crimes, you must be punished.”
“No, please,” he whimpered, cowered on the floor. “Please, I-“
“You will be judged by the degree you have judged others,” the dark vortex spread, whipping around the room and blowing papers about. The lights flickered.
“Adrien Agreste, show your value.”
A golden glow lit in his chest, dragging him upwards. Just as he left the ground, green smoke poured out of his mouth and pooled around him in a ghoulish fog.
The golden glow was soft and the fog quickly blocked it out.
“Enough!” The thunder rolled. “You are unworthy of the black cat miraculous and a traitor to its vow. You will be stripped of your gifts, and punished for your crimes.”
Adrien gasped, and the vortex swept away the fog. Chairs flew up and swung around the room.
Black poured into his eyes, nose, and mouth, slamming him into the wall. He screamed once, but the influx quickly choked it out. His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground.
The black vortex shrank back into the small blob. Everything fell back onto the floor.
They all stared as the blob floated toward Ladybug.
“No!” Robin yelled. “Mari-“
The blob leapt forward and she cradled him against her cheek.
“Thank you, Plagg,” she whispered, kissing his nose.
“I’m so sorry, sweets. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. What happened to Adrien?”
“All traces of the miraculous have been erased from his mind. He knows nothing. If he tries to remember, he will feel nothing but pain and failure.”
Marinette nodded, placing Plagg on her shoulder, where he curled into a ball and purred. The bats watched as she made her way around the table and knelt in front of Robin, who had scrambled to his knees.
She smiled, small and sincere.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Robin was so caught in her eyes, he didn’t move, even as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
He sat there blinking as she stood up and turned toward the rest of them.
“Thank you for all your help. I need to find a holder for the black cat miraculous, but in the meantime we can still search for Hawkmoth.”
And the hunt began.
//she totally knew it was Damian
//Tim got it all on camera
// Dick has to eventually help him off the floor
//he makes several reaction images out of the whole thing
//he a flustered boi
//Marinette is happy to have competent help
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I Never Danced Until I Met You- Chapter 2
[Chapter 1]
Taglist: @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @saint-hardy @sophiasescape @letscici @itsametaphorbriansblog @wackiekebab @tinyybiceps (idk it won’t let me tag you properly ugh)
Word Count: 4.1k (and it’s allllll banter lol)
Rating: still T……….. for now
You were already on horseback when he approached you in the courtyard.
“Where’s my horse?” he asked as he saw you.
“You can walk beside mine,” you suggested.
“Oh no, I get enough of that with Geralt,” he protested, already climbing up onto your saddle, “I’m sharing with you.”
Before you could stop him, he was sitting behind you, his form enveloping yours. You swallowed dryly.
“I bet this is what you wanted all along,” he postulated in a provocative tone, speaking quietly since he was already so close to your ear. He smelled of soap and leather.
“There were no spare horses in the stable,” you replied, and though you were telling the truth your voice came out a little shaky.
“Riiiight.” You couldn’t see his face but you assumed he was winking or smirking or something.
Instead of continuing to defend yourself, you shook the reigns, prompting your horse to begin trotting towards the gates.
“To the east are the training fields,” you explained as you motioned in their direction, “where my troops prepare for battle. To the west, the furthest wing of the castle.”
“Where are your quarters?” he asked suddenly.
“I’d nearly forgotten how forward you are,” you replied with an eyeroll that he couldn’t see.
“I couldn’t forget how lovely you are,” he waxed poetically, “but regardless, I was just making conversation.”
“Some conversation,” you scoffed.
“You doubt my honour?” he asked with surprise (and a hint of sarcasm). You tried not to laugh, but it didn’t work.
“If you must know, my quarters are just outside the Queen’s. I am expected to come to her aid first in case of an emergency,” you explained.
“Not much privacy there, I’d imagine.”
“I’ve no need for it,” you replied with a touch of surprise. You hadn’t even really considered that aspect.
“Sounds like a boring life,” he mumbled
“To you, I’m sure,” you responded, “but I live a life of integrity, which I have found demands little privacy to be conducted.”
“I think integrity is something people think they have until they’re challenged,” Jaskier philosophised.
You didn’t respond right away, and he suddenly seemed very proud of himself.
“Ah, left speechless by my incredible accuracy?” he teased.
“The idiocy of your statement was so severe, I required a moment of silence to process it,” you replied coolly.
“I know why you’re so hell-bent on antagonizing me, you know,” he said, his voice getting quieter.
“What’s that?” you pressed.
He leaned in closer to your ear, his breath tickling against your skin.
“You have to convince yourself you hate me, because you lead the sort of life where you can’t develop those pesky ‘feelings’ you’ve managed to avoid all this time,” he posited, “and the only emotion you’ve ever been allowed to have is anger. So you’re angry with me in lieu of being attracted to me, which- hate to break it to you- isn’t a choice.”
You swallowed dryly, thankful he couldn’t see your facial expression in that moment as it would’ve surely given you away.
You scoffed weakly, realizing a moment of silence wouldn’t do you any favors.
“Men like you always have some ridiculous story to explain how every woman who isn’t interested is secretly weak in the knees for them,” you deflected.
“Then tell me it isn’t true,” he offered. “Just say I’m totally wrong, and I’ll believe you.”
You almost considered confessing that he was entirely accurate- more right about the situation than even you had been up until that moment. But then you remembered this was your life and not a fantastical story, that you were a knight and not a duchess, that he would leave the castle in a few days and have his choice of the women of the world (so long as they were of comparable social standing) and you would be forever tied to your duties.
“It isn’t true,” you lied confidently, “you’re totally wrong.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Nah, I still don’t believe you,” he pshawed.
“What? You said you would!”
“I thought I would, but now that you’ve said it, I’m sure more than ever that it’s true.”
You sighed, kicking the horse gently to keep up its pace as you continued trotting through the castle grounds.
“It’s not true,” you repeated after an awkward silence.
“I know, I know, you’re a cold heartless warrior whose only business is breaking bones,“ he sarcastically agreed.
“Is that what you think warfare is?” you snorted.
“I just wonder how many hearts you’ve broken,” he continued, ignoring your question.
“None,” you responded, looking south towards the mountains and appreciating their beauty even having seen them every day.
“Preposterous,” Jaskier scoffed.
“I’ve never had a suitor, or secret admirer or anything of the sort,” you shrugged.
“How could you know if you had had a secret admirer? Wouldn’t it be, you know, secret?”
“I just know,” you frowned. “No one acts like they have any interest in me.”
“Maybe they’re just very subtle about it,” he considered.
“Subtle? I didn’t think that word was in your vocabulary,” you mocked.
“It used to be,” he smiled, “but my affections for you are too strong to be suppressed.”
“How many women do you say that to?” you asked deridingly.
“How many women are knights?” he returned.
“Just me,” you sighed.
“Just you,” he repeated, his tone sounding more thoughtful and serious suddenly.
You pondered that briefly but thankfully the silence was broken as your horse took you over the crest of the hill, overlooking the entire city. You heard him gasp a bit as he looked out, and you lifted yourself off the saddle and onto the ground.
“Great view, isn’t it?” you commented as you looked out over the cobbled streets and thatched roofs and smoking chimneys.
“Lovely,” he observed, following you onto the grass and taking in the scenery.
“You’ve probably seen more extravagant places in your travels,” you hedged.
“Perhaps, but extravagance isn’t all there is to life,” he explained as he sat down on a rock. “I can appreciate the simple beauty of a quiet town. It must have been nice growing up here.”
You took a seat on the ground nearby, as sitting next to him on the rock would require getting closer than you were ready for.
“It wasn’t this nice when I was growing up here, actually,” you recalled. “War-torn, crime-ridden…”
“What changed?” he asked.
“New management,” you smirked, motioning behind you to the castle.
“She seems like a good leader,” he considered.
“She’s incredible. She turned this nation around, truly.”
“Well, I’m sure she didn’t do it by herself,” he assumed. You gave him a quizzical look. “Someone had to enforce the new laws, clean up the streets,” he clarified.
“Oh, well, yes, the cavalry did some policing; nowadays we have constables for that,” you remembered.
“You make even more sense as a copper than a knight,” he chuckled.
“How’s that?”
“You’re laying down the law with me every five minutes and you ask why I think you’d make a good police officer?” he scoffed in reply.
“I don’t usually need to be so uptight,” you defended, “it’s the criminal in you that brings out the cop in me.”
“Me, a criminal? Look at this innocent face,” he pouted. “If anything, I’m the victim: I’ve recently had my heart stolen.”
“I’ll give you one thing, you’re persistent,” you groaned.
“I didn’t say it was you,” he noted. Your head whipped around to look at him, and he started to chuckle.
“Relax, love, of course it’s you,” he reassured as you felt your cheeks flush. “You’re not as stoic as you think.”
After several moments passed in reverent silence, something you weren’t sure before was possible with someone as talkative as Jaskier around, you decided that sitting quietly let your mind wander further than you wanted it to go.
“How’s your archery?” you inquired suddenly, standing up and dusting the grass off of your trousers.
“Haven’t held a bow since I was eleven,” he answered, following suit by getting up off the rock, “so I’m sure it’s spectacular.”
“Frankly I’m more of a swordsman myself, so I can’t promise to be the greatest teacher you’ve ever had, but maybe you’d enjoy a refresher course,” you offered.
“You’re too kind,” he replied, jumping back on the saddle. “I promise to be a worse student than you are a teacher.”
~
“Elbow up,” you instructed. His elbow did go up, but then it shot out to the side, throwing off his entire posture again. You used two fingers to push it back into place.
“Realign your shoulders,” you added, “your back keeps slipping forward.”
“That’s because this posture is rather uncomfortable!” he whined.
“Yes, well, hitting your target will ease the pain.”
“Not for the target,” he mumbled as he readjusted his position.
You stood beside his bow and made little adjustments, moving his hands and back where they needed to be for accuracy.
It wasn’t until he looked at you that you realized the bow created a sort of barrier which prevented you from realizing how close to him you were standing. If he faced you, which he just had, your faces would be just centimetres apart. You used your hands to move his face back to facing downrange.
“Take the shot,” you encouraged quietly, and he did, the arrow zooming past both of your faces as it whipped the air with its feathers.
You watched the arrow hit just west of the bullseye, and Jaskier turned to you with a smile, relaxing the bow. You stepped back so you wouldn’t be standing so close anymore.
“Hey, not so bad!” he observed.
“Quite excellent, actually,” you corrected.
“You’re a better teacher than you let on.”
“No, I fixed your positioning but that shot was all you,” you explained, “most people flinch when the arrow fires, which makes it impossible to keep steady. You were fearless.”
“Fearless? That’s not something I get called often,” he replied in shock.
“You asked a knight on duty to dance. Clearly you have no fear of death,” you smirked. He chuckled, pulling another arrow from the quiver.
“Speaking of death, think I can make a bullseye this time?” he asked as he prepared his shot.
“I’d be surprised.”
“Would you be impressed?” he asked with that tone that made you nervous for what he would do next.
“I… suppose,” you responded hesitantly.
“I just know there are stories about knights performing physical tasks to win the affections of princesses and whatnot,” he remembered, “and I wondered if I could win a knight’s affections by hitting a perfect bullseye.”
“Affections aren’t won, they’re earned,” you replied sternly.
“Earned?” he repeated, relaxing the bow and looking at you again. “Then, there is some way to get you to fall for me.”
“I didn’t mean it quite that way,” you corrected.
“So then there’s no way for me to get through?” he asked.
“Yes, exactly,” you frowned, getting more frustrated.
“That doesn’t make any sense!” he protested.
“It makes perfect sense to those of us who can accept the fact that you and I will never be anything more than acquaintances.”
“If they’re not won, and they’re not earned, then they’re just random. Just the unstoppable will of destiny. You didn’t strike me as the type to believe that sort of thing,” he explained.
You thought about that for a moment, not realizing before how quickly your logic on love could fall apart.
“Destiny, if it’s real, wills for me to be alone,” you scowled.
“Just because you’ve been alone so far, doesn’t mean you need to be alone forever,” he replied, his voice gentler and softer than before.
“Maybe I want to be alone,” you suggested.
He smiled, facing back downrange and pulling the bowstring back.
“And yet, here we are,” he whispered as he let go and made the shot. You watched with a dumbfounded expression as the arrow landed right in the center: a perfect bullseye.
You looked back to him and almost wanted to hide your shock, but it wouldn’t have worked anyways.
“How did you make that shot?!” you asked, entirely flabbergasted.
He relaxed the bow, looking back to you with that effortless confidence you envied so much.
“Must have been the will of Destiny,” he shrugged.
~
You were almost ready to go to the main hall for dinner, needing only to brush your hair a bit after a long day outside. The Queen had requested you join the staff and guests for dinner off-duty, even though you normally ate alone when you weren’t expected to attend as the Royal Protector. She had actually recommended that you wear a dress but truthfully you didn’t even own one.
Being ready early, you snuck into the kitchen to get a glimpse of what they’d be serving that night. You knew it would be quail because you’d see a servant going to the coop just a few hours ago, but what you were curious about, as always, was dessert.
Entering through one of the staff corridors, you breathed in the wonderful smells of bread and spices. It was hot in the kitchen, almost too hot to be comfortable, but it was worth it when you saw an abandoned tart laying on a countertop. It looked to have burned a bit on one side, meaning it was probably abandoned without plans to be served. The good news? The unburnt half was up for grabs.
You made sure that no one was too close before you grabbed a ladle and went to town. It was sort of shameful, but at least you didn’t use your hands!
“Hey, you’ll spoil your appetite!” A kitchen maid scolded.
“What’s an appetite for if not stolen desserts?” you defended, your words muffled by the food in your mouth.
“A kitchen’s not for eating,” she frowned, “take your quarry outside, at least.”
You made a face of displeasure as you grabbed the tart and carried it into the hall. You heard a few sounds of people moving towards the hall where dinner was set to begin shortly, but figured you could find an alcove of relative privacy.
You weren’t even properly surprised when Jaskier appeared, at this point you expected him to show up at your most embarrassing moments. And you didn’t have the energy to stop eating over it, either.
“You do have a wild side,” he observed as you scooped tart into your mouth unceremoniously.
“Who said I didn’t?”
“Oh, I always knew it, don’t get me wrong,” he winked, “just didn’t know I’d be seeing it so soon.”
“Is it everything you dreamed?” you asked sarcastically.
“More jam than I imagined,” he replied with a quirked brow.
You shuddered to consider what he had imagined as your “wild side.” Somewhere between a good and a bad shudder… and up until now you hadn’t realized there were good shudders.
“I have a soft spot- just the one- for dewberries,” you explained.
“Rest of you’s steel?”
“Of course,” you confirmed, “any other fruit, I’m impenetrable.”
You regretted that choice of words. You looked at his face to see if he caught it, but his expression was hard to read. Definitely not creepy or conniving or anything of that nature; soft, maybe even thoughtful. Sad but not like sad sad… okay, you weren’t great at emotions.
You were just about to look away, thinking you’d been looking at him too long, but then you started to wonder how bad it would be if you just let yourself look at him. What’s the harm in that? You let your gaze scan his body, something you had simultaneously longed to do and dreaded the idea of. His outfit was more practical than you expected, less glitz and glam and perhaps more traditionally-masculine… though still plenty scandalous in its own ways. His chest hair peeked out from his collar, not that it had to be very low for that to happen, but it was plenty low anyhow. He had traded in his doublet for a tunic, more traditional in your kingdom, which was fortunately and unfortunately much tighter. You’d seen men in a variety of states of undress before, you used to sleep in the barracks after all, so there were surely no surprises under there. And yet, you felt so tempted to see more. You knew he was pretty strong from his archery, but you wondered if he was strong enough to-
You caught yourself going down a dangerous path and stopped while you still could. Your eyes shot back up to his, which were looking at you with darkness, hunger. He didn’t say anything and yet his face already said it all.
“Want some?” you offered nervously, holding a spoonful of tart out to him.
You had expected him to grab the spoon but instead he lightly touched your hand, guiding you to feed him. It was oddly intimate, his touch so delicate and electrifying that it almost tickled. His eyes stayed on yours as his lips wrapped around the silver spoon, pulling his head back to get the food off of the utensil. A little of the filling got onto his bottom lip, and you watched, enraptured, as his tongue darted out to lick it off.
“What do you think?” you asked, your voice much shakier than you preferred, as you set the tart down on the nearby credenza.
“Delicious,” he answered softly, his eyes piercing right through you.
You heard more people moving through the nearby halls and realized dinner must be starting any moment.
“Still hungry?” you asked, intending it to be an offer to go to the dining hall.
“Ravenous,” he replied in a low voice, low enough for the bass of it to seem to shake right through you.
He stepped forward, bringing you much closer together. It was terrifying and yet so wonderful. Instinctively you reached up to push him away, but then as you did you regretted it, so you ended up just wrapping your hands around his arms without actually holding him back. He returned, placing his hands on your triceps which was an oddly personal part of your body.
Right as you realized you had no idea what to do next, Geralt appeared from around the corner.
You jumped back, sort of an instinct when caught in an intimate moment. Maybe it wasn’t that intimate, but by your standards it was rather scandalous.
“Am I interrupting something?” Geralt asked in a way that seemed perchance a bit mocking. Before you could answer, he looked at the credenza and made a face of confusion.
“What’s the pie for?” he grimaced.
“Consumption?” you offered. What else would it be for?
“Right,” he affirmed. “‘Finger in every pie,’ as they say.”
“…Huh?“
"Dandelion has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, that’s all.”
You didn’t know how to react to that, even how to interpret it. He walked away, and you gave Jaskier a confused look as you followed.
Dinner was delicious, but you were too distracted to properly appreciate it. Not distracted by good conversation, certainly- the dukes harassing Geralt for details about the day’s hunt was not intriguing- but by your own thoughts. Jaskier made you so angry, so confused, made your heart race and your head hurt and your stomach all loopy and nervous. He still felt like a stranger to you in many ways, though talking to him had more in common with a conversation with an old friend than an acquaintance- not that you knew all that much about what it was like to have old friends. You weren’t sure if it was normal to feel jealous when you saw your old friends chatting up other women. He was making some duchess laugh like she’d never heard a joke before- even the servant girls thought he was charming. It took you a while to realize that it was the cause of your feeling sick, not something wrong with the food.
Just after the final course was served, you figured it not too early to excuse yourself. You stood, hoping to make a quick and mostly unnoticed exit, but Jaskier stood as soon as you did. You stopped, expecting him to say something, but he didn’t.
“Are you also retiring?” you asked him, confused.
“Men are obliged to stand when a lady enters or exits a room,” he said, like it was obvious. And you were suddenly surprised it wasn’t obvious. The table had been obeying that etiquette for the other women who had entered when dinner began.
“Oh, yes,” you agreed nervously.
Jaskier looked around the table, seeming a bit frustrated.
“Am I wrong?” he asked rhetorically.
The men at the table stood, begrudgingly, even Geralt.
“That’s better,” Jaskier sighed.
“I’m retiring for the evening, thank you,” you said with a quick bow as you rushed for the doors.
You almost expected him to chase after you, just because he seemed to follow you everywhere. Instead you didn’t see him until much later when he knocked on your door.
“You found my quarters,” you observed.
“I wanted to apologize, if you felt scrutinized at dinner,” he explained. “I didn’t think I would draw any undue attention to you. I just… assumed everyone else would stand, I suppose.”
“No one here thinks of me as a woman,” you replied with a sigh. “You’d do well to remember that.”
“Do you think of yourself as a woman?” he pressed.
“I-” you began, but then stopped as you realized that you really weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even really think of yourself at all, generally. Since meeting Jaskier, you certainly thought of yourself as a woman a lot more than you used to.
“You don’t really have that luxury, do you?” he prompted solemnly.
You nodded.
“You deserve to be treated better,” he announced.
“I tell my troops not to use words like ‘deserve.’ They don’t really mean anything.”
Jaskier crossed his arms, seemingly unsatisfied with your philosophy. “It means that it would only be fair if you were given the same respect you give to others.”
“‘Fair’ doesn’t mean anything either,” you smirked.
“What about ‘love’? What does that mean?” he asked, his tone more serious.
“Doesn’t mean what you think it means,” you scoffed. Maybe you were being too combative, but you didn’t like that he was throwing ‘love’ around and you really didn’t like how your heart skipped a beat when he said it.
“And what’s that? Please, enlighten me,” he requested sarcastically. You frowned.
“This might blow your mind, but ‘love’ isn’t something that happens overnight, let alone at first sight,” you explained.
“Just because I’m a romantic doesn’t mean I’m an idiot,” he deflected.
“Just because I’m practical doesn’t mean my life is devoid of meaning or something,” you countered.
“Just because you’ve been burned before doesn’t mean you should give up on ever being happy!” he shouted.
You didn’t even really mean to slap him, it just sort of happened. You didn’t even hit him nearly as hard as you know you could have, thankfully.
“I’m happy the way things are! I’m happy being alone!” you asserted, slamming the door in his face.
You turned and held your face in your hands, fighting back tears. You couldn’t remember the last time you got so angry, or the last time you’d cried. You hated that he was always following you around and you hated that he was always saying some stupid thing like he talked in poems and you hated that he was always right, that he saw right through you. Had it always been this obvious? Had everyone else in the whole nation figured out that you actually weren’t happy, and just never thought to mention it? Or, had no one else ever cared enough to notice?
Ashamed of having punished him for doing everything right, you opened your door and hoped you could still catch him as he was heading back to his room and apologize. Instead you found him still standing there, in the same place, waiting patiently. You jumped, wiping your tears.
“You’re still here?” you asked in surprise.
“I’m still here,” he assured. It felt like a promise, like something important.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked, but you knew he knew the answer, and he just wanted to hear you say it. You decided to afford him this one little gift, just this once.
“No,” you answered, “I don’t want you to go.”
He looked at you expectantly.
“Please stay,” you requested.
“All right,” he agreed, and stepped into your room.
[next chapter]
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like yesterday, here's a bullet list of my thoughts for episodes 18~21
thoughts on episode 18:
oh no, it's the beach episode.
-- i really like how they show the way the PT take care of futaba. ren patiently cleaning up her room in between hours at the florist, them playing vidya with her, or just having lunch together in montage moments is very sweet. it makes me wish the anime had much slower pacing, more slice of life-y kind of drama.
-- watching yusuke, ryuji, and futaba lose their freakin minds over good curry is VERY relatable.
-- i still don't understand why ann and makoto thought that a two piece frilly bathing suit was the way to go with futaba. a one piece that she could wear under a long wrap or a hoodie would've made so much more sense... but >male gaze
-- have i told y'all how fucking tired i am of the sexualization of the teenage girls in p5 yet, and how it is one of the several things that fuckin ruined this game for me
have i?
well here it is again
none of the previous games were as bad as this b t w and p4 had one of the dungeons be a STRIP CLUB.
-- yusuke and his lobsters are wonderful.
-- oh god i forgot COMPLETELY about the whole 'mental shutdowns' thing in this game's plot. i think because it's all so pointlessly convoluted. p3 had something similar but even there it was just people turned catatonic for weeks on end when the monthly boss-shadows drew near.
i think the reason i find this so hard to understand is because from p3 to p4 the rules of shadows didn't really change so much. p3 had the persona users go up against shadow bosses; p4 had people confront the shadows within themselves, either accepting them completely (which then turned into persona), or the shadow 'absorbed' the person and ran rampant as a monster. neither of those rules really contradict each other, but in p5 personal shadows for persona users are gone completely, and how you deal with other people's personal shadows doesn't even involve them being present to complete the merge.
mona says that persona users can't have palaces, but persona users in 4 could and DID have 'dungeons' within the shadows' worlds. these dungeons dealt specifically with what was at the core of the shadows' emergence--a deep secret and a hidden truth that caused the shadow to grow, a place that was a replica and a distortion of reality based upon that suppressed truth. so that sure sounds like a fucking palace to me.
so....................... unless there's like, multiple realities folded into our own, and persona users can only access certain ones.................. i'm just super confused.
like, i know it's because the rules change game to game, but p3 to p4 didn't have any contradictions, and p2 didn't contradict anything in p3, either. it just went from a full party of wild card users to a singular one.
-- i'm glad ann's getting a little screentime here. i was just thinking about how other characters' development was lacking after makoto and futaba got so much focus.
-- mona's so sweet to ann ;-; now that he has a human form in p5r, i hope they become really good friends. she needs a kind guy friend that'll be reliable~ plus he makes her laugh.
-- sojiro talking about the anniversary of wakaba's death is......... really interesting........ considering that screenshot of futaba sitting next to a woman with the exact same haircut as her "deceased" mother.
-- ren reassuring mona that he absolutely has to be human, that he will return to who he used to be once they figure out what's happening in the metaverse is jsut jdfklasd
AND HIS LIL ROUND OF APPLAUSE WHEN MONA TALKS ABOUT ALL THE THINGS HE'S GOING TO DO TO KEEP THE WORLD SAFE ;-;
AND THAT SHOT OF HIM SLEEPING CURLED UP ON REN'S STOMACH
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
-- listen i know mona isn't rly a cat but he's the BEST cat
thoughts on episode 19:
oh it's the hawaii episode.
-- man what the hell kinda budget do these school's got that they can just go overseas with dozens of students on a yearly basis? that's impressive.
-- ryuji: "whoa, awesome! ..... i don't really get it, but awesome!" fjdsafds okay that got a laugh outta me. good one, ryuji.
-- ren: "i'm excited, too." (said in a monotone) fjklsadsl BLESS THIS BOY
-- ren's FACE when he learns that futaba installed a spying app on his phone and can hear him/see pictures he takes is...... kind of hilarious. especially if you have the headcanon that he and akechi send dumbass snapchats to each other a lot--which i do. and which you do now, too.
-- mona's depression is ten times more sad because he's a cat okay :c why they gotta make the cat so cute
-- ren, ryuji, and ann's lil sleepover is adorable. especially since ann chastises ryuji for not knowing one of the basic rules of a sleepover: if you start talkin' about your crushes, you gotta start with your own~ thems the rules lads
-- rip principal bloatneck.
-- honestly that truck shoulda at least TRIED to stop.
-- "A LO HA." goddammit that's adorable
AND HE GIVES THE LEI NECKLACE TO MONA FJDSKFJDSKL ren you're so SWEET.
-- I TOTALLY FORGOT THAT MONA CALLS SAE "ONEE-NO-NIIJIMA" FJADSKLFJDSKL ahhhh it's so cute.
-- the PT targeting okumura, who is essentially the dave thomas with political ambitions of the persona 5 world, is far funnier now that i phrase it like that.
-- ANN, OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE, SAYING THAT THEY PROBABLY BROUGHT THIS RECENT TROUBLE ON THEMSELVES, IS A FUCKING STUPID WRITING DECISION. I CAN'T BELIEVE SOMEONE DIDN'T LOOK AT THAT AND GO, "ANN WOULDN'T SAY THIS. ANN HAS NO REASON TO SAY IT." god. lmao PLEASe let p5r be a goddamn second draft.
-- mona's totally right that ryuji's just concerned with getting popular and his dick wet. like,,, that's why this argument only made me hate ryuji more than i already did. he gets pissy when mona points out the truth.
god he sucks lmao
I'M SORRY I'M SO SALTY YOU GUYS
LOOK I'LL SAY SOMETHING NICE: SAE AND AKECHI ARE COOL
-- i really like how guarded akechi's face looks in his conversation with sae, and how off his guard he looks when she tells him that she's not going to hold back, especially since the culprit is doing such dire, awful things. he's not exactly surprised, but he's definitely uneasy and shaken by what he hears. which makes me wonder who he’s really concerned for--himself, or for ren (and the PT by extension, but akechi only really seems to care about ren, so).
the reason i like that is because the okumura arc in p5 is really where akechi's mind starts its downward spiral. principal kobayakawa's death obviously rattled him, especially since the only reason the principal died was because shido saw him as useless and disposable, something akechi is desperate NEVER TO BE. and it's that + what happens with okumura that really kicks him over the edge.
i hope p5r will give us the chance to pull him back from it. he deserves a better chance than the game's subpar writing gave to him.
thoughts on episode 20:
-- ren wakes up in a panic because he thinks he sees mona on his bed ;___________;
-- goro snoopin' on the PT's LOUD, TOTALLY CONSPICUOUS conversation in front of okumura foods' HQ is kind of adorable if you remember he clearly loves star wars (HE HAS A LIGHT SABER), and the camera cuts to his face right as they're talking about big bang and outer space lingo.
-- oh, haru. i really wish you were the black mask. that would've been so much cooler--and an actual twist. her total hopeless panic about being a beauty thief could still be a thing (because it is actually endearing), it'd just be an act. but that's me talkin' fix-its again.
-- i really like the scene of haru defending mona to the PT on the rooftop, then cutting to show just how strained her relationship is with her father. she exists to be useful to her father's ambitions and nothing else, and that scene really drove home just how painful that is for her.
-- REN TWIRLS HIS HAIR BETWEEN TWO FINGERS WHEN HE'S DEEP IN THOUGHT. AHHHHHHH I FORGOT HE DID THAT
-- oh hey remember how the game went through the trouble of showing how haru's fiance is a sexist, violent, animal-hurting piece of shit and then promptly failed to actually separate her from him in game (i think you only can do that in her s-link?? the s-link you can barely finish in your first run of the game??), and in t hEN SHOWED HER IN THE CAR WITH HIM LATER, LOOKING HORRIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE?
god this story makes me so fucking mad lmfao STOP PUTTING GIRLS IN PHYSICALLY OR SEXUALLY VIOLENT PERIL AND NEVER ACTUALLY ENSURING THAT THEY'RE SAFE, YOU DAVID CAGE LEVEL OF HACK BULLSHIT WRITERS.
-- ryuji running into the attic, all worried about mona, with a first aid kit, is..... very good. very good and endearing. good on you, ryuji.
-- haru gently encouraging mona to tell the truth is also really good. idk if i just missed it in the game or what, but i really like how she's presented in the anime. she's like a counterpart to ren--soft, sincere, observant, patient, yet she's made of pure steel beneath all that.
thoughts on episode 21:
-- WHY WAS HARU'S GRANDFATHER GIVING COFFEE TO A FIVE YEAR OLD
-- haru, the reason your father's heart grew twisted is thanks to capitalism. you gotta change the heart of capitalism.
-- not to be all poochie here but whenever akechi isn't on screen, all i can ask myself is whERE'S AKECHI?
-- HOW CAN I TAKE THE EVIL DAVE THOMAS SERIOUSLY WHEN HE'S DRESSED LIKE FUCKIN MEGAMIND?
-- okay see this is where i'm thrown completely out of the story or even really liking haru. haru just listened to her dad's shadow saying he would PIMP HER OUT TO HER FIANCE WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT. and she still is just like ~no i want him to go back to being kind~
bitch are you nuts
are you NUTS
youR DAd SHOULD DIE AND YOU'D BE BETTER OFF
CONSIDERING HOW THE GAME GOES, YOU ARe BETTER OFF
god. i'm getting so mad again lmao
-- ren approaching haru to point out that if the truth of her father's crimes comes to light, she'll forever be associated with him (and with all the harm and ruined reputation that brings) is, once again, further reminder of just how... damn good ren is. he doesn't hesitate to speak from the heart nor does he ever fail to listen to someone else speak from theirs.
-- also not for nothing but uh
how did the cops not like
figure out how the PT phan-site was set up within the first few months and track it down to mishima? was that ever addressed at all?
-- honestly another reason why i get so fucking mad about this okumura stuff is the game goes SO FAR OUT OF ITS WAY to make you feel BAD that he died, when he was by all rights a fucking shitheel monster, yet when akechi dies it's like 'oh well. that sucked.' fuck off, atlus. the death of a greedy, heartless CEO isn't more sad just because his gaslit daughter is conditioned to be sad about it.
i understand that a large part of the shock after okumura's death is because the PT don't know if they did anything wrong. but okumura was in no way a good person. he was in no way a person whose redemption overruled all the hurt and harm he did. that has been the case for EVERY PT target before this, so why the fuck is okumura suddenly so different? why SHOULD he be?
the difference between him and, say, akechi is that okumura et. al. all made those choices on their own to do terrible things. they delighted in it, they enjoyed it. but akechi, much like futaba, was forced into a cycle of self-destruction--it’s just that in futaba’s case, her self-destruction targeted herself, and akechi’s was quite literally weaponized and used against others. he approached shido as a young teenager and was then used by him for years.
a teenage boy being used as a magical hitman by his shitlord father is far more deserving of sympathy and redemption than grown adults who willingly make the decision to harm, abuse, and prey on others. but no, the game didn’t want to do that.
this is another big problem i have with p5's second and third acts: it's so tonally dissonant and sloppy. it's like they didn't try to actually be as rebellious and hellraiser-y as the first act WANTED to be, and it all ends up being such a limp-dick shriveled mess of "let's fight against this rotten society!! ......... as long as it in no way actually upsets anyone or does any REAL change." fuck off lmao
that's not me even commenting on the "twist" and how it needed to be explained MULTIPLE TIMES to the player for it to make any sense.
and it still doesn't make sense to me btw.
so that's another thing i hope p5r fixes.
-- rip evil dave thomas megamind.
-- akechi floating the idea to sae that the phantom thieves had nothing to do with okmura’s death is............................ interesting.
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