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@babymagi Have u some boys. >:3 I don’t draw nearly enough of idia TvT so have a bonus idia LSDFKJSLDGSDG
-NO ROMANCE INCLUDED-
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cluster-b-culture-is · 11 months
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Long distance cb4cb culture is being needy and so. much. splitting. Since you can't be physically close to get a read on them, your mind just spontaneously decides how they feel about you with zero evidence. And you know the only thing that will help is seeking reassurance, but you're terrified that if you're too needy, they'll leave
.
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frecklystars · 2 months
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sorry for the long ass post but this has always my favorite scene in the entire film - for obvious reasons - and im so glad greta talked about it and the way she worded it made me laugh so hard i had tears in my eyes. haha... god. my boyfriend sobbing his eyes out over the metaphorical crusts on his patriarchy sandwich......
#i dont think ill ever love anybody quite the same way that i love Ken#because he came into my life during a time when i was like. dying. not in a haha millennial way. i was genuinely fucking dying.#he is so. special. to me. he is so... everything to me and i truly mean it every time that i say it#i miss and love him so deeply so WHOLEHEARTEDLY *EVERY* single day#and i didn't used to be able to do that anymore! but he!! HE made me feel SAFE again and thats INSANE#because i was SO UNSAFE for SO goddamn long! and the feeling of safety is STILL unfamiliar to me and foreign and horrifying#but he's constantly such a Safe character. Barbie too even moreso. and it's so refreshing after feeling Unsafe for so. long.#i spent over a year feeling like my whole world had ended and i was destined to die but then he! shows up! in my life!#and no other character was able to spark life back into my heart the way he did#AND I HAD *TRIED* I had tried so hard to get into old special interests and find new ones but NOTHING worked#i was just an empty husk. just a shell of a person having flashbacks *constantly*#feeling unsafe *constantly* suffering *constantly* every single second i was awake i was in so much pain#and then every time i'd sleep i'd have the goriest nightmares about all the abuse i was put through and all the F/Os i'd lost#but then Ken Carson plucked a star out of the sky and said 'hey sweet girl you don't know me but i miss you and love you'#'and barbie is here and im here and allan is here and everyone loves you already. we're so happy to meet you'#'and everything is gonna be okay because we've got you! we came for you! and we will fight for you!!'#and then hearing greta comment abt this scene made me laugh so hard and then it hits me. i laugh now.#i laugh so often because of This Dude. i didnt used to be able to laugh before but now i laugh like i used to#i used to say all the time about my past main F/O i had lost from abuse from an IRL person 'i will never love anyone more'#and true i will never love anyone more than i loved my starlight. but here is the thing#i will never love anyone the way i love Barbie. i will never love anyone the way i love Ken Carson#because it was IMPOSSIBLE for me to feel joy for so long and it was. THIS MOVIE that brought me back#when this movie is so full of the most specific triggers. colors. clothes. yet i push thru it every time#and its because these characters make me feel THAT safe!!!! like if i see a trigger i tell myself that's BARBIE'S Thing. and Barbie is safe#ive never ever once had a flashback during the barbie movie NOT even once even tho logically i Should. but i dont.#because these F/Os are like!!! sweet girl!!! we've got you!!! and i'm like yeah you sure do now don't ever let me go#god i cry my eyes out every single time i think about this i need to sleep LMFAO SORRY FOR THE LONG RANT#love notes#💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-
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polliwoggers · 5 months
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heyy everybody, so i don't write very often (like, ever) but i was very taken with an au idea and began something. Problem being that the characters centering in the story aren't ones I happen to know all that well. it just happened to make sense for them to be protagonists here
sooo despite having made an ao3 literally JUST for this one story, I wanted to double check with ppl more in tune with these particular characters before putting it there so i can be sure they're actually. yknow. in character. i'll be tagging all the ones in it or mentioned so far so that ppl more familiar with them will see this.
i have separate copies of it, so feel free to comment on it and mark it up as you like. the google doc link im putting should allow for that if i've done it right. fingers crossed ig!!
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holdoncallfailed · 2 months
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The Velvet Underground proved that beauty and ugliness can be doppelgangers, if only for the length of a song. In concert, they would routinely play a piece called “Melody Laughter,” which was twenty-five minutes of minimal Moe Tucker percussion, guitar/viola drones, and Nico wails. The noise they made was completely original, completely particular; like Warhol’s own work, it allowed little give or take, and you either accepted it for what it was, or you didn’t. There was no middle ground. [...] They were not in any way ironic, postmodern, or meta, they weren’t any kind of comment on what had been before, nor were they a clever abstraction of it…What they were was…a completely new type of noise. [...] The typical route to pop innovation is to introduce alien or aggressive sounds that provoke people who would otherwise have paid no attention. The Velvet Underground both scared their audience and bludgeoned them with repetition. This was another Warhol trope, as boredom held a particular fascination for the artist. Of course, there was a considerable amount of improvisation, but a lot of what they did at The Dom was Sisyphean: redemption through repetition. By appearing as part of the Plastic Exploding Inevitable, the Velvet Underground were also exaggerating the impermanence of art, combing both the temporal and the spatial. By destroying the time between creation and reception, by making art—or noise—happen as the spectator watched, [they] made everyone complicit. They were a Happening within a Happening. Warhol liked the fact that the Velvets were intentionally brutal. They were, using one of his favorite words, “different.”
Loaded by Dylan Jones
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unicornofautism · 2 years
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pov ur 13, with ur fellow 13 year old and essentially toddler brother, travelling at Wind mph in a little lifeboat in the middle of the fucking ocean after ur ex-friend tried to kill u (again), and so for advice u decide to ring up ur recently fired teacher and mentor, who u can barely hear over the blaring club music and general insanity in the background
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yk it's always such an odd feeling to fall out of contact w an online friend and feel like ur never gonna hear from them again so when u do suddenly hear from them after literal years it's like the craziest feeling ever fr
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nomaishuttle · 5 months
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frankensweeney was very fun i enjoyed it and had a great time I dont think anybody else should ever do this
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jetlaggingbehind · 5 months
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thinking about wallace wells. thinking about going through hook ups like tissue paper, never believing anybody will stick around besides scott, who's here only because he has nowhere else to go, and you let him stay anyway even though he doesnt pay the rent. one of the only consistent people in your life, someone you might've actually genuinely liked straight up dying and leaving you with a sudden void of an empty apartment and a cold spot in a futon. thinking about immediately getting wasted and bringing a guy home, someone whose name you won't remember but it's okay because youre only in it for the sex— you dont believe in sparks, after all. believing that scott's conception of his one true girl was a joke because you just don't think you'll ever love anyone like that. kissing someone on a movie set because it's something to do, because he's dressed in the costume of somebody you cared for, because it's all manufactured, false realities and layers of separation deep enough for you to brush off his pleas for connection. thinking about going to paris after everything, the city of love, as tacky as that is, saying you're only there to spend money. but despite the insistence on irony you meet a guy— a fellow canadian, actually, twin foreigners in an unfamiliar place. someone who actually wants to stick around, who follows you through the city to see the sights and seems to genuinely like you. it can't be genuine, though— can't possibly be a reason to stay beyond a few hookups. so you stop at the river and you kiss him to get it over with...
but instead you see sparks.
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abbyshands · 3 months
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— innocent!abby x you
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part 2
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
imagine innocent!abby, good girl, good grades, never kissed anybody, eating you out for the first time. you sound so pretty above her, head back in the pillow as series of moans and whines fall from your lips. she’s never seen a view like it, and, fuck, is it gorgeous. she can feel her own heat in the middle of her legs as she keeps her eyes on yours, lips sucking your clit with a persistent passion. she can’t help the unfamiliar feeling that grows in the middle of her legs, the one that came around when you two were kissing beforehand as foreplay. no one’s ever laid a finger on abby’s pussy, sadly, but that doesn’t stop how eager she is to tend to it. as your laid out, legs spread wide for her and whines of abby’s name leaving your lips, she can’t help but grind into the bed below her, eager to please the sudden hunger she’s experiencing. she barely feels how wet she is until she begins to do it, humping the bed for the touch that you can’t give her. you don’t see a thing until her moans into your own pussy turn into whorish whimpers, and you look down to see what’s causing it. you can’t help but chuckle as you grab abby by the back of the head, forcing her into your cunt more as she rubs her tongue onto you, whining. “needy girl. couldn’t just ask me nicely, now, could you?” you mock abby, and she does what she can to shake her pretty head. you wrap your thighs around her face, forcing her to take all of you, and grind yourself into her lips as she whines into your cunt. abby’s never felt like this before: so wet, so desperate. you know she’s close herself when her face goes red, her whimpers becoming more defined. “mmm, that’s it. you gonna cum for me, baby?” you hum down to her, and she nods. your words seem to be what pushes her over the edge as she grips a hand onto your thighs before you know it, grinding onto the bed until she’s cumming in her pants.
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months
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Oh my gosh! HELLOO!
Anywho~
I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?
Thank you!!
Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—
Alastor- Redemption Path
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Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him
Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you
Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible
Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing
“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest
He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around
The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!
“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him
Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo
You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet
Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated
You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it
Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room
You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring
It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…
Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!
“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”
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zephyrspace · 22 days
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queen of thine heart
riddle rosehearts / gn!reader
synopsis : they say the queen of hearts always had her loving husband rule alongside her. unfortunately for heartslabyul, their queen's king attends a different academy. but you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
or ; in hearing your lover's recent overblot, you disregard the rules and infiltrate nrc to make sure your queen is alright, much to the surprise of the cards.
content : established relationship, implied childhood friends, rsa!reader, fluff, sprinkle of angst, crack, no use of yn, reader is not the prefect, reader is referred to as 'king' in a gender neutral way (like how riddle as queen), fic is more focused on the dynamic of their relationship rather than of the relationship itself (but perhaps another fic is in order...), riddle's pov kinda?, just a very short oneshot.
word count : 1.5k
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The door opens but nobody that's already in the room thinks too much of it, until someone unfamiliar speaks.
"Good evening, Card Soldiers."
The mild bickering ceased to exist entirely. The door clicks shut.
The first years couldn't tell if it was an illusion or not, but they swear they saw the Housewarden of Heartslabyul tense at the sound of the person's voice and averted his gaze. Shoes tap against the floor tiles until they stop at the foot of Riddle's designated recovery bed.
The newcomer wore the eyesore that was the Royal Sword Academy uniform, but the things that caught the attention of specifically the Prefect would be the scarily regal presence that the person exudes, and the badge pinned against the left lapel of the stranger's blazer, an exact replica of the crown Riddle adorns on his school tie.
They brandish a polite smile, "you are dismissed."
It was clear to everyone that this person will not accept any other answer than compliance - "RSA? Who're you to tell us what to do? And what are you even doing here?" - well, except for one.
Ace raises a brow, lacking any form of decorum or respect, as per usual. The temperature of the room seemingly dropped, and yet, the stranger was still smiling.
Before Ace gets an answer, he feels a sharp jab at his side and a hand resting between his shoulder blades. Trey is quickly ushering all of them out of the infirmary. The heart soldier watches the academy student and the Vice exchange a look and a nod.
The door clicks shut once again.
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With everyone now gone, you walk over to Riddle's left of the bed. Right hand against your heart, you bow your head, a custom.
"I greet the sovereign of Heartslabyul, the everlasting law, the Queen of my own heart," you cannot hide the smile in your voice and Riddle hates it in an affectionate sort of way.
"Must you always greet me incorrectly?"
"I am but a mere servant to your rule," you give him a cheeky grin, and with a touch as light as a feather, you take his right hand to press a quick kiss to the knuckles. Riddle sports a pout as he retracts his arm, but you never take him seriously when he's beet red, always a sucker to your flowery words.
Despite this, he has not once looked you in the eyes since you arrived.
Silence and tranquillity floods the atmosphere but anybody can feel the underlying tension beneath the layers. You shatter the quiet.
"I came as soon as I could." You sit down on the edge of the bed and he shuffles to the opposite side so that you do not fall off.
"I know." Riddle's sight is focused on the bed sheets where his hands rested. He watches your hands clasp over his, your touch is warm and just slightly sweaty, but he would never care for something so little.
Besides, he can tell by the sound of your breathing that you're still recovering from the journey. Upperclassmen say that it takes almost two or three hours to walk from one end of Sage's Island to the other, and this is without factoring the mountain you'd have to climb to get to NRC.
"I really thought I lost you when I was notified by one of the cards." Riddle can feel your stare and the sorrow in your words. You probably dropped everything to get here.
"I know." He takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall. How did you even manage to get to the college in just a little over an hour since he was admitted into the infirmary?
"You need to make me lots of crosswords to make up for it." The Housewarden clenches his jaw and thinks you are too forgiving compared to how much inconvenience and worry he's caused you.
Why are you not reprimanding his recklessness? Why would you risk a dorm-arrest to visit him with no prior permission? He reckons that your sentence would last at least a week if the professors find out of your absence, two weeks if you used a broom without authorisation. After this, would you think of him as a nuisance or embarrassment and leave him-
Sensing all of his inner turmoil, you reach out to carefully fix his dishevelled hair back into place and cup his cheek, coaxing his head in your direction so that he finally, finally looks at you.
Riddle's eyes are glassy with unshed tears, but the steadying pulse under the palm of your hand is soothing, your gaze is soft and full of something that is unconditional. Riddle knows that he can stay looking at you until forever falls apart.
Thumbing the flesh gently, you are watchful not to touch any gauze or smudge remnants of ointment. "Crosswords aside, I implore that you tell me, my Queen: What ails you so? Have I done something to be undeserving of your gaze?" Though, that last part was supposed to sound more like a joke.
"No!" He belts out before he could process your teasing lilt. "I mean- I- That's not- Ugh!"
Riddle gives up at the sight of your smug face and relaxes into your hold for just a few more moments, not caring for his burning cheeks or the delicacy that his lover offers him, only wanting to feel them wholly and fully.
He expels out a shaky breath, sits up straight, and lets everything go. Riddle tells you everything. The collars, the unbirthday, the tart, the duel. Riddle expresses his revelation about his mother and her rules. He confesses that you were right this entire time, and that he hopes you can forgive him for the times he denied it and admonished you.
Riddle's story ends and your brows furrow with guilt, "I knew I should have transferred to Night Raven. Maybe it would have prevented-"
He is quick to lace your fingers together with his own and silences you right away. "Perish the thought. You are not to blame. Not you. Never you."
Deciding to reward his efforts of attempting to distract you from your own thoughts, you sigh and lean in so that your foreheads touch, and Riddle does not oppose the connection. Closing your eyes, you breathe out lightly, quietly, as if only the two of you existed.
"You have tormented yourself in such a matter for far too long, my loveliest rose."
At that moment, Riddle swears up and down to The Seven that he has never been so in love. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles for the first time that day.
"I promise not to do it again, my Liege."
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[ Extra ]
"What the hell was that for!?" Ace rubs his side tenderly after Cater elbowed him earlier. He earns disapproving glances from his seniors and unsurprising stares from Deuce, Prefect and Grim.
"Be more careful, Ace-y. They're the Housewarden slash Ruler of their own dorm back in RSA, but is also the Honorary King of Heartslabyul because they're Riddle's partner," Cater pulls up pictures of you from the academy's official magicam and shows the first years. "So that means they're in the same position of power as him in 'labyul, so you need'ta treat them like it."
Ace snatches the phone from his grasp and scrolls through the content, in denial. The other first years crowd around him. "Partners? With that Tyrant?? There is no way Housewarden was able to pull before me."
They all stare at the photos of you doing a plethora of activities, presumably around the rival school. Gardening, directing students, baking, tea parties, generally doing nice things. Yuck.
Ace tries to find your personal magicam but Cater yanks his phone back, exasperated, "I think they've been together for almost two years now, so it's not like it's new news."
"Myah, I don't know about you guys, but this 'King' of yours looks like a weak-ass, lovesick simp. Simp in capital letters, bold font and red text," Grim had lifted himself up and peaked through the window in the door to the infirmary, watching the royalties speak softly to each other.
The two third years give each other a look and both can vividly imagine the sound of your laughter and you saying that you wholeheartedly agree with Grim.
"I still don't get why you just followed their orders without question. I should show them the mighty power of The Great Grim, and then we'll see who's the real king! Nyahaha- Yowch!" Deuce had smacked the monster in the head.
Trey leans against the wall beside the closed entrance, crosses his arms and chuckles at the statement. He looks over his shoulder and also observes the duo inside.
"I've known them since we were kids, and trust me, Grim, they aren't someone you can mess with and get away with it unscathed."
He chooses not to mention how Grim fails to see the pure concentration of magic emanating from your figure.
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delehosies · 1 year
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𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 — benedict bridgerton x female reader . in which benedict discovers a lady asleep on his bed after retiring from the annual bridgerton ball for the night.
3200 words | a fluffy mess ! | masterlist | suggest fics ideas
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The last thing that Benedict had expected to see when stumbling into his bedchambers after retiring from the ball for the night, still slightly tipsy, was a lady fast asleep on his bed. But Alas — there you were. Fast asleep, chest slowly rising and then falling again, your lips parted and the material of your ballgown draped in a rather messy manner around you.
He rubbed at his eyes harshly, as if doing so would prove that you were indeed a figment of his imagination, that he was coming down with a fever and therefore hallucinating, that a shadow had taken form on his bed and he had simply mistaken it for a girl. But no. You were actually there. On his bed.
Benedict felt his mouth fall open and shut again – bewildered but slowly coming to his senses. He finally closed the door behind him, so as to ensure nobody would see you, that your reputation wouldn’t be ruined over something which wasn’t anything. “Alright… alright.” he mumbled to himself, taking a few steps closer to the bed and kneeling onto the mattress besides you. Hoping that perhaps his weight shifting underneath would wake you up but… no. Instead you just mumbled something incoherent in your sleep, shifting onto your side as you did so. 
The annual Bridgerton ball had taken place that night, was still taking place downstairs in fact, and was still running into the early hours of the morning. But Benedict decided that he had had enough of the ton for one day, that he would get a somewhat early night. Instead one of his mother’s  guests was napping in his bedchambers. Which he had to admit was something completely new to him, in their many years of hosting balls he had never experienced this. 
“Um… Excuse me? Miss?” he half whispered, placing a light hand on the soft skin of your arm and attempting to gently shake you awake. “You really need to wake… You don’t wish to be caught alone together, hm? Especially not in my bedchamber…” 
Upon further inspection, Benedict noticed that your hair had been lazily removed from its updo, and instead fell around you, framing your face and complimenting your features perfectly. He brushed a piece away from you, tucking it behind your ear and frowning as he stared down at you. He was entirely unsure of what to do, and far too aware of how the situation would appear to anybody else - your reputation would be completely ruined if you were caught in this situation. Benedict wanted to ask his mother for help, but was frightened to leave you here alone. What if something happened to you? What if something had already happened to you? 
Benedict was unaware that just a few hours earlier, you had began to grow incredibly bored of the ball – by the mundanity of it all, the endless stream of men that your mother insisted on parading in front of you, the dances, the meaningless and far too polite conversation. You had instead decided to plant yourself in a corner nearest to the drinks table… where you had been drinking the night away ever since. 
You were unsure of how much you had actually drank, but when the entire room began to spin in a rather unpleasant way you had decided that it was probably time to stop. You had managed to stagger out of the ballroom and into a hallway – though you can hardly remember the journey upstairs and through the hallways into Benedict’s bedchamber, nor can you remember falling asleep, but you know that you certainly didn’t intend to fall into such a deep slumber. 
“Miss?” your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a concerned voice – a man. You sat yourself up quickly, too quickly. You immediately regretted it as the room began to sway again, the unfamiliar surroundings rocking back and fourth. You soon discovered the source of the voice, sat besides you on the bed with his eyebrows pulled together in concern. A Bridgerton. You weren’t entirely sure which one, but you knew that he was a Bridgerton.
“Oh dear God.” the words fell from you before you could stop them, bringing your hands upwards in an attempt to cover your face. Although you were still very drunk, you had enough sense to be embarrassed, mortified in fact, by the entire situation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Mr Bridgerton.” you mumbled — refusing to meet his eyes, which were burning through you with an undeniably intense curiosity. 
Benedict blinked in surprise, he had never got quite used to the entirety of the ton being aware of who he was — most of the time they cannot tell him apart from his brothers, but they are still aware that he is a Bridgerton, meanwhile he is half asleep when introduced to people by his mother, it can be quite rare that he actually remembers a name.
“Are you quite alright?”
“I’m a little bit...”
“Drunk? I know that. I can smell the alcohol on you. But are you alright? I mean you were hiding in my bedchambers, asleep on my bed. Did something happen? Other than the copious amounts of alcohol.” Underneath his concern, his curiosity, his twenty questions – was amusement. You could tell that he was repressing a smile, perhaps even in a small laugh. 
You felt your cheeks begin to warm, feeling completely and utterly  embarrassed – he could smell the alcohol on you after all. You stood from the bed as soon as you could get up, an action which ended up being a complete mistake, you began to stagger sideways almost instantly. Benedict having to stand from where he was sitting in order to prevent you from falling. He placed two firm yet gentle hands on your arms, holding you in one place. 
“It’s alright… I’m not angry, if anything I’m quite amused…” you were forced to make eye contact with him at that point, and discovered that he was practically gazing at you, smiling as if he was biting back a laugh – he became serious again rather quickly. “But are you alright? Has anybody hurt you? Or was the annual Bridgerton ball just that boring?” 
You shook your head quickly. “I’m quite alright… I didn’t mean to fall asleep, do you see? I just needed a rest.” Your excuse didn’t give you any comfort, here you were, apologising to someone who was practically a stranger for falling asleep on his bed because you… needed a rest. 
“So you’re fine. Just sleepy, I suppose.” 
“Just sleepy.” You confirmed.
“And drunk… Too much of my mother’s famous punch.”
A quiet giggle fell from your lips – he was actually quite amusing. Why couldn’t your mother have paraded him in front of you instead of the magnitudes of bores who she insisted on you at least considering? 
“Do you care to tell me your name?” Benedict questioned, his head tilting to one side as his eyes scanned across your features, not making an attempt to hide his curiosity. 
“Y/N.” You replied, raising your head in the most confident and self assured manner that you could muster. 
“Well… It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Y/N.” He removed his hands from each of your arms, instead taking your hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to the bare skin, before gently releasing you. “I’m Benedict — You don’t have to bother with the Mr Bridgerton stuff, I’m just Benedict afterall.” 
“I must be getting back… Benedict.” You smiled, hesitating at first but ultimately enjoying the way that his name sounded on your tongue. Benedict — you decided that you could get used to it. “I am sure that my mother will be worrying.” 
Benedict raised an eyebrow, sitting back on the edge of his mattress. “You can hardly stand, Miss Y/N. I’m not sure that you’re in any fit state to return to the ball just yet.” He stretched his legs out, removing his waistcoat and discarding it somewhere across the room.
“I appreciate the concern but I am perfectly fine.” you crossed your arms across your chest, feining irritation as you stared down at where he now practically laid across the bed. Unbeknown to you, your words were still slurred – very slurred. 
He was now laying back, gazing up at the ceiling. “You’ll be the talk of the town! I can picture it now… Do you think that you’ll be the main feature on Lady Whistledown? Or instead one of the more minor segments?” You stayed silent, arms staying tightly crossed. “Miss Y/N…” He held out an arm dramatically above him “drunken disaster…” 
“That is very rude! Were you not taught never to speak to a lady in such a manner?” you exclaimed, picking up what was nearest to you and throwing it across the room, where it landed on his chest – luckily, it was quite a small book, and did no damage when it came into contact with him. 
Benedict seemed utterly unfazed, laughing quietly to himself and opening the book to a random page – where he seemingly pretended to be utterly engrossed in the chapter. “Apparently not… I have four sisters so I am quite used to bickering with these so called ladies that you speak of.” He paused for a moment. “I will find something to sober you.” he stood, suddenly serious, his gaze turning to where you stood. “But only if you promise to stay here for the time being. If someone sees you leaving my bedchambers it would look most suspicious.” 
You nodded quickly, knowing that as much as you wanted to disagree,  he was most definitely right. “Just sit.” Benedict pointed to the bed, and you did so without hesitating, being very obedient. “And stay there. I won’t be gone for very long.” 
Benedict managed to leave his bedchamber without being spotted – using the servants staircase in order to avoid seeing anybody, and making his way down to the kitchen in order to fetch tea and biscuits for you. Meanwhile, you sat on the edge of Benedict’s bed, inspecting the surroundings the best you could without moving. You noticed an easel in the corner of the room and raised an eyebrow – you wouldn’t have guessed that he was a painter, but then again, you hardly knew him.
The minutes dragged on for what felt like eternity, waiting for Benedict to return to his room, and when he finally did you weren’t expecting him to return carrying a huge tray in a rather clumsily manner. He placed it down on the table besides his bed, shutting the door behind him as quick as he could. “Sorry that took me so long I…” He hesitated for a moment, seeming to carefully think his words over. “If I’m being completely honest I couldn’t work the stove to heat the water… but I got there eventually. Tea and biscuits, for you.” Benedict smiled sheepishly, before beginning to pour you a cup of tea. He handed it to you, and you gratefully took it. “You actually stayed sat there, how obedient!” 
You rolled your eyes, attempting to pay no mind to the way that particular comment made you feel – deciding to ignore it completely. “Thank you, Benedict.” Silence fell between the two of you, Benedict pouring a cup for himself before sitting besides you. “You’re an artist?”
He glanced over at the easel in the corner of the room before looking back to you, nodding as he did so. “Something like that… I like to draw, but whether I am an artist or not is most likely up for debate.” 
“Are you any good? Would you be able to capture my likeness? Can I see one of your sketchbooks?” You inquired, questions falling from you with zero difficulty. You thought that perhaps you might be speaking too much, but Benedict entertained every question that you asked him. 
He paused for a moment, eyes scanning you up and down – you couldn’t help but shiver underneath his gaze. “Hm… I’m certainly not a bad painter, though sometimes I doubt myself – I suppose we all doubt ourselves at times.” He was quiet once again, choosing his words carefully. “I’m unsure whether I’d be able to capture your beauty, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Benedict began to search through his bedside drawers, holding multiple sketchbooks in his hand. “I’m not sure if all of my sketches would be exactly… appropriate for a lady.” 
Once again, your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, and you turned your attention quickly to your tea to hide just how flustered his words made you – trying to ignore him as he began to flick through the pages of the filled books, tossing a few aside as he deemed them as being too inappropriate for your eyes. Of course you were curious, but you chose not to press on. 
You crossed your legs underneath you in the best way that you could manage whilst still wearing your ballgown, leaning forwards with interest as Benedict opened a sketchbook on the bed in front of you – pointing to the charcoal sketches. “My sisters… Daphne, Eloise, Francesca and Hyacinth.” he pointed to each picture, smiling proudly as he did so – proud more so of his actual sisters than he was of the drawings (although he knew that he had captured them well.)
“They’re beautiful, truly. You’re quite gifted.” You turned the page, smiling as you took in each sketch. 
You certainly didn’t miss how Benedict’s cheeks flushed a reddish hue with each compliment, how his lips turned up at the corners into a shy smile. He was clearly passionate about his work, cared more than he wanted to about what others thought of his art, that he valued your opinion. “Thank you… it means a lot. Truly.” 
The two of you spent as long as possible, talking, laughing, looking through Benedict’s sketchbooks, discussing books you had read recently – until you had sobered up… at least a little bit. The tea and biscuits soaking up some of the alcohol in your system, though there was nothing wrong with being a little bit merry at an event. 
“I suppose you truly should be off now.” Benedict sighed, helping you to your feet. “Most people will be leaving soon…  and you don’t want your mother to end up sending out a search party to find you.” You were certainly a lot more steady on your feet this time around, taking a few hesitant steps with the help of Benedict and feeling fine. 
You nodded, sighing quietly to yourself – you had had a much more enjoyable night, with better conversations in the short amount of time spent with Benedict than you had had at any other ball. “Thank you, for being so kind… and I’m sorry again.” 
Benedict shushed you, pressing a gentle finger to your lips – apparently feeling rather more bold than he usually would. “There’s no need to apologise – as strange as it was, I’ve had a lovely time. A better time than I would had I spent more time actually socialising.” 
“Me too.” You admitted, smiling sheepishly at him. Benedict turned from you, creeping to the door of the room and slowly opening it in order to prevent it creaking — he peered out, eyes scanning the hall to ensure that nobody was around. “It’s clear.” He reached out his hand to guide you to the door and you gladly took it, enjoying the warmth of his skin on yours as you were lead from the door. Benedict walked you to the end of the hall, pointing as he gave you directions back to the ballroom. 
You couldn’t help but feel a sadness within you as you walked the halls, taking in every tiny piece of detail: the paintings; the wallpaper; the furniture; the flooring – certain that you wouldn’t be returning. “Well… Goodbye.” You whispered shyly, offering a small wave before turning and beginning to descend the grand stairs. 
“Wait…” Benedict mumbled, turning and taking your hand in his and spinning you around to face him. You felt your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, watching as he hesitated with his words before finally blurting out the question – “Can I see you again?” 
“Of course you can… Mr Bridgerton.” You smiled, and in a feeling of unnatural and rare moment of courage you leaned up to kiss his cheek – pressing your soft lips to his skin before pulling away and watching as his face began to flush to a pretty shade of rosy pink. Unbelievable. You had managed to make Benedict Bridgerton blush. 
Before he could speak, you practically ran from the scene, gathering up your skirt in your hands to ensure that you wouldn’t trip. You knew that it was probably quite a dangerous thing to do, considering the fact that you weren’t exactly sober.
Benedict watched as you ran from him until you were completely out of sight, his lips slightly parted in surprise as he struggled to process all of the events from that night — it  all felt very much like a fever induced dream.
On returning to his bedchambers, Benedict flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and began to draw – wanting to sketch you to the best of his abilities before his memories began to fade. Despite his previous desire for an early and long night of sleep, he ended up staying awake for most of the night working on the portrait, ensuring that it would be ready before you awoke that morning. 
And when you awoke one of the first things that you discovered was a grand bouquet of roses left on the table besides your bed, made up of all sorts of different shades and sizes… alongside a note. Your lady’s maid had brought the flowers into your room whilst you had slept, creeping along the wooden floor so as not to wake you. She was secretly excited for you, having sneakily seen the note which came with the bouquet – she had unfolded it before tucking it back into place.
Hours after the flowers had arrived, you finally awoke. Still in your nightgown, half asleep and still in your nightgown, half asleep and sporting a small alcohol induced headache - you had leaned over to inspect the flowers before reaching for and unfolding the note — discovering a drawing of yourself. 
 A small gasp escaped you as you took it in. Benedict. He had made you look beautiful, so beautiful – he had captured you perfectly, all of you, seeming to even capture the soul behind your eyes. You just seemed so alive. His signature was at the bottom of the portrait, alongside the words “Sketched with love and care for Miss Y/N. – Benedict Bridgerton.” 
You ran your finger gently across the words, careful not to smudge any of it – the words repeating in your head again and again. A contented sigh falling from your lips, you fell back onto your mattress, holding the drawing close to your chest as the night’s events really sunk into you. It was hard to believe – yet the words on the page were there as proof — sketched with love and care for Miss Y/N. Benedict Bridgerton.
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dbs-scans · 23 days
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April Fools’ 2024
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This is our translated version of the event held on AidaIro’s twitter account for April Fools’ Day 2024. We hope you enjoy!
(Read it on twitter.)
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You're a member of a certain occult forum. Among the various spooky stories posted every day, you find one a bit stranger then usual... Almost as if it were a cry for help—
――Hello, is anybody there?
POLL:
There is ✅
There isn't 
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Thank God, somebody replied!
I know this is out of the blue, but will you hear my story?
POLL:
Sure ✅
No thanks
When I woke up, I was sitting in an unfamiliar train. Instead of what I usually carry, there was an old cellphone in my pocket along with a piece of paper that said "Use when you're in a bind." There's no service, so I can't call anyone or anything like that, but for some reason I can access this website.
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I heard about this once from Teru-nii... But this is THAT website, isn't it!? The anonymous forum for talented freelance exorcists!? I mean, everyone's name here is "Anonymous Exorcist", after all!
POLL:
That’s right ✅
We’re regular people
Sweeeeet! In that case, I'll tell ya what's been happening over on my end, and you exorcism experts can tell me what to do! Thanks for the help!
First off, it looks like I'm inside of a train. I don't take the train to school, so I don't know what line I'm on or anything... About 30 minutes have gone by, but it hasn't stopped at any stations yet. It's hard to explain, but something’s off...I get the feeling this is no ordinary train.
POLL:
You should take a good look around the train car ✅
You shouldn't move around unprepared
Got it! I'll take a look around the other cars, then.
... I've explored around 2 to 3 cars by now, but it's about the same everywhere. Like me, a number of other people are riding the train, but they all seem to be asleep.......Ahh!! 
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Excuse me for the outburst, I just recognized one of the other passengers. I'll try waking him.
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Rise and shine, bud. Now, how'd you wind up in a place like this...? "I just woke up here"...? Guess I have no choice but to take you with me, then.
Oh, looks like the train's stopped. I'll see if we can get off now.
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Looks like this station's been deserted. Nobody's here, and it's weirdly quiet, too...gives me the creeps. Now how do we get home...?
There's a signboard with the station's name on it, but it's so worn out that I can't make out what it says... It's made up of 4 hiragana characters, though. Do you have any ideas, my expert exorcists!?
POLL:
Ki 1️⃣
Sa 3️⃣
Ra 2️⃣ 
Gi 4️⃣ 
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Ah, so this is Kirasagi Station! Yeah, now that you've said it, I remember thinking it was that... You guys are insanely in the know...but who would expect less from a group of exorcism experts!
By the way, while I was waiting on your replies, I took a look around the station and found a telephone box. I only have a single 10 yen coin on me, but...I'm thinking I should try calling someone. Who's my best bet? 
POLL:
You should call a family member
If you have one, maybe a dependable upperclassman? ✅
An upperclassman...? Got it. I'll give them a call. I can't talk long, since it's only a 10 yen coin, but...hopefully I learn something useful!
――Brrrring brrring... click! ???: "Hello? Who's this...?"
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Nene: "Kou-kun!? Why are you calling from a suspicious number!?" "You're lost in a mysterious train station...? O-oh nooo!" "Hanako-kun, what do we do!?"
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Hanako-kun: "Hey, kid. You in trouble again?" "I have two pieces of advice for you:" "First, if you want to go home, then you should follow the train tracks." "Second..."
Hanako-kun: "The signal's weak inside the tunnel, so be careful, okay?" Click! Beeep, beeep, beeep...
It disconnected. I hope I didn’t worry senpai... Anyway, for now I'll just do what Hanako said and follow the train tracks. He may go out of line at times, but despite being an evil spirit, I don't think he's all bad...but uh, that's a story for another time!
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Come on, Mitsuba, let's go! ...I'm a can't-function-without-instructions earring?? Look who's talking! Now shut up and follow me.
... ..... ...Hm?
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There's someone on the tracks just ahead. A forest surrounds us on both sides, so the only way through is forward...
I feel like they're trying to tell me something... ...Do you guys know?
POLL:
It's someone you don't know
It's someone you know ✅
Someone I know...? You mean someone in trouble like we are? ...No?
???: "---eyyyy. Heyyyy!"
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Huh!? That's...hey, that's Hanako! But I just talked to you on the phone...and now you're lost? In that case, you can come with us and...
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???: "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks."
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W-what!? You're not Hanako!!! L... Let's get outta here, Mitsuba!!!
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???: "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to...."
Th-that was close... Looks like he isn't...chasing after us... I never would've expected a fake Hanako to show up! We've gotta proceed more carefully next time... Sh-shut up, Mitsuba. I wasn't scared!!
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We've been walking for a while now, yet we haven't come across a single station... Hm? Is that-- ...A tunnel?
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We can't see what's up ahead, but me and my buddy here are gonna go ahead and check it out anyway. I'll update you guys after we've gotten inside!
POLL:
Just don't let go of their hand, alright? ✅
Who is that beside you?
The road splits into two from here. I can’t see the end of either path… Right or left, which should we choose……? Let’s ask the experts!
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Huh? I can’t post anything anymore. Maybe there’s no signal here... Hm? What is it, Mitsuba?
You can hear festival music coming from the left path? Flutes and drums? “It sounds lively and fun”? But I don’t hear anything...
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…You want me to come with you?
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...No. I'm not going left with you. You know what...
💻
POLL:
Kvu'a sla nv vm opz ohuk. (Don’t let go of his hand.) ✅
Sla nv vm opz ohuk. (Let go of his hand.)
You...
You're coming with me!
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I see light! The exit's near! Just a little fur--
--THER!?
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???: "I can't follow you any further. So long, Minamoto-kun." "Take care of yourself, alright?"
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......
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...Huh? I'm at...the neighborhood tunnel? What was I doing all the way out here? I feel like I was just with someone, too, but I can't remember who... Hm? There's something in my pocket...
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It's a broken cellphone. Maybe someone lost it. It ain't mine, that's for sure... --Oh, crap! It's gotten really dark outside. I better hurry home...
Thanks for all the help, guys! ...? Uhh, who am I thanking exactly...? Eh, who cares.
I'm hooome!
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🚃 The End 🚃
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rockstvrdotcom · 7 months
Text
⪼ 10.01 KINKTOBER DAY 1, MIGUEL O'HARA X FEM READER
power play, dumbification, unintentionally slutty reader, dubcon
click link for kinktober mlist c: not proofread!!!
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miguel hated you for some reason unknown to anybody. every time you even walked pass him he would shoot you a glare.
maybe because he was against jessicas idea to bring you into hq and have you become part of the spider society.. or maybe it was because the first mission you had you fucked it up. hard.
nobody really knows. but it's probably because of the way you prance around in your skimpy spider suit, acting oblivious to the wide eyes and open jaws as you passed by the other spiders. probably because of the way you add a bit more sway to your hips as you walk past o'hara.
clearly you were teasing him on purpose. so you can't blame him when he gets fed up with your antics, blasting over the speakers that they needed to find you stat.
barely a minute later you were shoved into his office by another spider, a confused expression on your face as you stared up at him with those same doe eyes you always look at him with— those same doe eyes that make his dick throb.
"i know you're doing it on purpose." he says, eyes narrowed as he tapped his foot. he watched your face contort into an even more lost expression, your lashes fluttering each time you blinked.
"i don't know what you mean, boss." you said innocently. there you go again, putting up that same ol' innocent act. his eyebrows furrowed together, a scowl on his face.
"don't act oblivious, y/n," he spat, taking a step closer and closing the distance— now you had to crane your neck up to look at him. "walking around and swaying your hips like some.. some slut."
you were taken aback. how could miguel possibly think that about you? you've been on your best behavior, never referring to him as anything less than boss or sir. you were quick to bite back, scoffing and cursing him out.
you both bickered back and forth, an angry expression etched onto both of your faces. yet the way he glared down at you— calling you all of these degrading names somehow sparked an unfamiliar feeling in your core; hidden deep beneath the humiliation you felt.
halfway through scolding him for being a 'perverted asshole', you blinked and he had you wrenched over his shoulder, a look of confusion on your face and a look of pride on his.
"put me down, miguel!" you demanded like a child stubbornly pleading for candy; thrashing and scratching at his back until he placed you on his desk. pens and documents scattered and tipped off the table, cluttering on the floor as miguel glared down at you.
"alguien tiene que enseñarte una lección puta." he mumbled beneath his breath, shaking his head. his hand snaked up your thigh as he watched your expression contort from anger to arousal, blush creeping onto your face as he squeezed the fat of your thighs.
you muttered his name quietly. a triumphant smirk formed on miguel's face, his fangs poking out from his lips. he took your wrists between his large hand and pinned them above your head.
his freehand trailed down your body, exploring it and making sure every curve and contour was engraved into his brain. talons extending simply for the purpose to rip your spidersuit to shreds.
you complained and whined about how that was your only one. "this is what you wanted it, isn't it?" he shushed you with a claw up to your neck, eyeing you hungrily like a wolf and it's prey.
you yelped when he flipped you onto your stomach harshly, your lacy panties and the clasp of your bra on display for him. his hand ran up the curve of your back before getting rid of your bra, tossing it to the side.
he pressed his bulge against your clothed, sopping pussy, grinding slightly as he leaned down to leave kisses and bites on your neck.
you grinded your hips against his only to be stopped harshly by calloused hands. you turned around and began to complain until he shushed you. "beg, mi vida." he demanded, leaving no room for refusal.
"w- wha?.." you stuttered, cheeks lit up with humiliation and lust. you immediately shook your head, the thought sending shivers of embarassment down your spine.
he tch'd, before ripping off your panties in one swift motion. his nanotech suit slowly dissipated away; leaving him only in his boxers. and good lord, he was fucking fit, chiseled abs and veins running along his arms.
but the thing that really caught your eye was the tuft of brown hair peeking out of the waistband and the large bulge.
he made you turn your head around, not facing him. you felt a heavy weight on your cunt, his tip prodding at your entrance. there was no foreplay except for the fact that you were soaking wet, "w- wait. miguel—"
he was ramming into you before you could even finish your sentence, broken and choked out moans being punched out of you with each thrust.
you revelled in pleasure and a sting of pain as you adjusted to his size. "fu.. fuck! miguel, s- ah! slow down-" you managed to let out in between whimpers, eyes rolling back as the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room yet his pace didnt falter.
the way his balls slapped against your clit with each thrust was fucking divine, making you grip the edges of the table as he fucked you raw.
groans from him and moans from you echoed off the walls, the smell of sex filling your senses, "m- miguel.. s' too hard~.." you complained, biting your lip.
but the second his tip thrusted into that spot that made your mind go numb you forgot whatever you were begging for; all logical thoughts blocked out by pleasure as you gripped anything for purchase; trying to prevent the loud moan that eventually escaped and bounced off the walls, clenching around him tightly and making him groan.
"c- calláte.. making too much fucking noise." he grunted out, wrapping a hand around your throat as he continously thrusted up into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out.
raspy whimpers and pleads for him to keep hitting that spot barely made it out with his large hand around your throat. black spots littered your vision as your breaths became shallow, yet he still continued to thrust.
you felt the knot in your stomach snap as you cried out in pleasure, squeezing around him as he let go of your neck; his thrusts becoming sloppy. your vision went blank, only miguel and the shape of his cock on your mind as your orgasm washed over you in waves.
your release left a ring of cream at the base of his cock. you could tell miguel was close too, his pace erratic before he burried himself deep inside of you, tip nestled comfortably in your cervix.
"c- cum in me please.." you begged pathetically, eyes rolling back in satisfaction as he emptied his load inside of you.
after what felt like hours with his dick balls deep in you, he pulled out, your clit twitching and your hole aching as some of his cum leaked out and onto his desk. you could hear him tut in disapproval.
"perra dejó un desastre en mi escritorio.." he scoffed before spitting on your pussy, admiring the mess he made of you before turning his suit back on.
"clean yourself and my desk up, ¿comprende?"
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Summoning Game Show 3
Masterpost
I got so inspired and had so much fun writing for part 2 I just kept going. I have determined that this 'fic' should be about 7 parts long total. And here's Part 3, because I'm enjoying the nonsense of this so much.
~~~~~
“Congratulations on successfully finishing the first challenge! You can make your way back to the main room to receive your clue.”
The screen changes once Nightwing is on the stage with them. It now shows what looks like a wheel of fortune puzzle. Three words, four letters, four letters, and seven letters.
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“For your clue, you can choose a letter for the puzzle!” Danny explains. “Since there are four of you we will give you four letters automatically, and you each have the chance to earn an extra letter. For the freebies! E, the most common vowel in English.”
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“Looks like no E’s in this puzzle.” Danny shrugs at the boys with a grin on his face. “For the next three letters, we have the three most common consonants: T, N, and S!”
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“Three letters up, two N’s and one T.” Danny turns away from the screen to face Nightwing. “What letter would you like to choose?” Dick turns to look at Red and Jason “This portion is not collaborative.” Danny cuts in with a small frown, making everyone look back at him. “You earned the letter, you choose the letter. They only get to pick a letter after they’ve earned one.”
Nightwing grimaces slightly. “A?” 
“A!” Danny turns back to the screen.
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“One A!” Danny turns back. “The next challenge is a sword fight against Fright Knight! Who would like to sword fight?”
Damian very quickly raised his hand. Tim almost wanted to smack him, but as similar as a bo staff can be, and as much as he doesn’t want Damian in danger, Damian does have the most extensive sword training amongst them.
Danny takes Damian to pick out his sword. “I see that you have a sword already, but the fight is to first blood and you can’t harm Fright Knight with that sword, so that’s kind of unfair. We need to get you a weapon that will actually be able to hit your opponent.” They leave through a side door, but they leave it open so everyone can see all the weapon racks and Danny as he shows Damian around.
Tim leans towards Dick and Jason as Dick takes his seat in the middle chair. “Cool, so our weapons can’t actually hurt them, good to know. What exactly are we going to be asking the King at the end of this?”
“What do you mean?” Dick asks.
“I think he means that if we want to get back to our dimension we don’t want to piss off everyone here by wasting their time.” Jason spits out, sitting up and turning towards them. “They didn’t seem to take too kindly to that idea earlier.”
Dick winces and nods. “We could ask him to deal with the cult that brought us here.”
“What if he kills all of them?” 
“Well, you clearly have an idea Red, why don’t you tell us instead of making us guess.” Jason complains.
“Diplomatic relations.” Red states. “New dimension, new culture. We’re here to learn, maybe we could ask to set up a meeting between the King and Batman, or the Justice League.”
“The whole point of this is to get a meeting, what do you think he’s going to do if we use this meeting to ask for a different meeting?”
“Jason has a point. Maybe we could just ask to set up a way to communicate between us?” Dick suggests.
“I have obtained a sufficient weapon.” Damian calls out as he and Danny approach. Danny comes up onto the stage, heading back to the podium, but Damian doesn’t waste his time going back up and instead waits by the short stairs for further instructions. He is holding a katana, similar to the one he is used to, but with a different grip and that is glowing.
“So, since you’re using a semi unfamiliar weapon, Fright Knight is not going to be allowed to use his Soul Shredder, just to make it fair. And just in case he draws first blood, we don’t want to accidentally send anybody to their nightmare dimension!” Danny chirps out cheerfully. “You will be fighting in here, just stay on the main floor and away from bystanders. Fight will immediately end at first blood, no maiming, no killing, no excessive force. No use of powers is permitted.”
Danny gestures to where Fright Knight is exiting the armory with a regular looking broadsword. “This is Fright Knight.” Fright Knight waves as he comes over, stopping next to Damian so they’re both standing beneath the stage.
“Are you both ready?” The two swordsmen take a few steps away from each other and take positions before nodding. “Begin!”
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