a little kink [the It's Curtains kink meme]

[stagemanagers]

shamelessly ripped from the Dangan Roleplay kink meme

GUIDELINES/RULES:

• All requests- smut, fluff, gen, or otherwise (alternate murders, anyone?)- are welcome so long as it's about It's Curtains. Fic and art fills are all good.

• This is for all rounds of It's Curtains. Intermingled cast requests ("what if so-so and so-so from this and that round met?") are acceptable.

• Stay anon because it's funner that way.

• Use proper trigger/content warnings for sensitive and/or offensive subjects, just like you would in a game proper. If you don't, it will be deleted.

• This is a judge free zone; however, be mindful of character ages, esp. in regards to the younger characters.

• If you do not want your character to be involved with the smut or things that make you uncomfortable please contact me. A list is being prepared to remind everyone.
• Respect player wishes if they ask to not have their character be in smut, or anything out of their comfort zone. Again, comments in violation will be deleted.

Have fun, darlings! If any rules are violated please don't hesitate to to PM this account or alert one of the mods.

 

 

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Natalie (and potentially Jezebel) go to Hime's world and everything is weird but fine

then a mascot chooses natalie goodman to become a precure

[(Anonymous)]

Natalie held her head. "Okay. I get that, no matter how ridiculous it was, everything you told me in the Opera House was true."

"I told you so," Hime said with a pout.

"Right." Natalie rolled her eyes. "You're all really sparkly magical girls and there really are at least four or five evil organizations from other worlds invading Earth per year and God really moved to Mars to help terraform it and comes by to visit every so often with his girlfriend and his angry ginger brother. I get that."

She swept an arm out to indicate a blobby plush-looking creature sitting on the lunch table.

"But why did this thing come flying from the sky, hit me in the face, and declare that I had to become one of you guys!?"

"I have a name!" protested the fairy.

"I don't care," Natalie said. The fairy sniffled and Ribbon and Glasan walked over to console it.

Astarte thought for a minute. "We weren't right there. We were in the other room, so... Your fairy probably didn't know there was a team in the town. Fairies don't watch the news before they come to another world. Probably."

"Says the alien moon goddess." Natalie put her face in her hands. "Look. You girls have this under control. I have my life to get back to with a girlfriend and a full scholarship."

"We'd help if your world needed it!" Hime protested.

"Yeah, can you fix global warming?" Natalie shot back. She dropped her transformation item onto the table. "This thing literally gave me the power to turn invisible. I'm not taking orders from some sadistic magic locket."

One of Hime's teammates raised her hand.

"Yeah?"

"You know that a Precure can usually choose her own moveset to a degree, right?"

Natalie groaned and sank into the table.

"Can we just agree this never happened? Okay? Okay."

[(Anonymous)]

The Balladeer has an incident of some kind. As a result, one or more of the other cast members meets Lee Harvey Oswald.

[(Anonymous)]

...so how are the Round Zero cast turned crew turned neither doing in their new homes?

Any couple, intimate grooming

[(Anonymous)]

you heard me. Bathing, washing and/or brushing each others' hair, shaving, or even massages (hand, foot, back, shoulder, head, whatever).

Bonus points for not smut. Just show me extreme amounts of intimacy and trust.

Re: Any couple, intimate grooming

[(Anonymous)]

((Sorry this doesn't focus as much on the actual washing as I set out intending for it to, but...))

“Look, I know this isn't how you expected to see me naked, but-”

“It's fine! Can we not talk about- It's fine. Just... hold still, okay? And... tell me if I'm scrubbing too hard or anything.”

“You're doing great. Honest.”

The trouble with turning human, apparently, was that it came with all of Jezebel's formerly red skin being covered in makeup. And while she had gotten most of it... turned out the first night of the interdimensional roadtrip had to include scrubbing her back on the floor of a shower. Oops?

Her skin is really smooth, though, Natalie thinks, even with the makeup freshly off. Except for two weird light spots, which must be where Jezebel's wings were. Christ, not twelve hours ago her girlfriend had wings. And not twelve hours ago she had been a ghost. She obviously had an idea just how quickly things could change, but... this was pretty damn fast. But still, it felt right. Where they were, what had happened.

They were free. And they were together.

“Natalie?”

She's gone quiet and still, she notices. Natalie stirs herself back into motion, kisses Jezebel below the base of the neck, where it's not quite shoulders or back yet. “Sorry.”

“No worries.”

There's no tune under her breath, but that hasn't stopped either of them before. She scrubs away and hums a little (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRyeeOVsi_E), and then “You know the words “once upon a time” / Make you listen / There's a reason...”

It's not fair to sing this here, of course, Jezebel hasn't even seen the sequel yet, but there are no complaints from her corner.

“When you dream there's a chance you'll find / A little laughter / Or happy ever after...”

There's clear skin now through patches of the red. Natalie pauses to trace a finger across it. It feels... just like her skin did before. For all the touching she's done of Jezebel's skin, anyway, which is not much. Thanks, Squeaky.

“Your harmony to the melody / It's echoing inside my head...” God, she's even blushing. Of course she is. She's singing a song from not only High School Musical, but from a sequel to High School Musical to her girlfriend in a shower.

“A single voice above the noise / And like a common thread...”

Wait, what? “When I hear my favorite song / I know that we belong”

“Oh, you are the music in me... Sorry, I uh. I watched 2 and 3. While you were gone.”

While she was gone. Like it had just been a business trip or a college visit. Natalie wraps her arms around Jezebel's waist, leaning forward to press against her back. The water's pouring on both of them now, but whatever. Fuck it. Jezebel is here, and Natalie is here too, and against all goddamn odds they're happy.

“I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you. Somehow.”

[(Anonymous)]

The true OTP of the round: ghost of Arm Thing and ghost of Stunt Cow.

Billyanna or Hansadeer, Unfortunate Beards

[(Anonymous)]

NPH is a very attractive man. But he looks like the kind of guy who shouldn't be able to grow a beard. Well. He can. But he definitely shouldn't.

So one of the prompts with a resident NPH in it has to split up for a month or more. Not because of a fight or for any bad reason - maybe Anna has to take a diplomatic trip to see her cousin and it would be kinda weird for her to take the Royal Engineer who she's Totally Not Married To, or maybe B's invited to a plane of existence where mere mortals were not meant to tread (or he was invited to host the Tonys) so he has to leave Hans behind.

Tl;dr, when they reunite, for some reason Billy or Bal have grown a full beard. Cue confusion and mild horror from their spouses.

[(Anonymous)]

Through some inter-dimensional shenanigans, (possibly a Hangover bachelor party deal) the cast accidentally takes Barney Stinson (from HIMYM) home to Arendelle instead of Billy. Billy meanwhile ends up stranded in New York with the gang, who assumes "Billy" is just another of Barney's elaborate schemes

go crazy

[(Anonymous)]

Following up from the curse prompt, baby Eliza of Arendelle does grow up to be sent to a game when she hits 16. Have some random adventures in a crack jamjar following the events and silliness of LJRP circa 2006! Or maybe Bal's countercurse didn't work and she's in a murdergame instead. Your choice.

[(Anonymous)]

Eliza had always known that her destiny was to involve being sent to another world when she turned 16. So, before the sun set, her parents made sure to stay with her. They gave her a wonderful birthday party. The whole extended family was there. She got gifts to keep on her person - the Balladeer pointed out that some games allowed them to keep the things in their pockets - and she made sure to pack those in her...pants.

The "modern" clothing felt weird as she looked down at the t-shirt and denim combo, huddling in her new hoodie.

"You're not going to leave me alone, right?"

"Of course not." Her mother smiled. "We'll be right here for you."

One by one her parents had everyone depart, save for themselves, Eliza's sisters, her aunt the Queen, and the Balladeer. She sat on her bed, trying to be calm and stoic. But conceal don't feel wasn't exactly the best idea. Ice began to lick the blankets on her bed.

"Its ok." Her dad pat her shoulder. "There's...you know, no need to hide your emotions. Just be honest, yeah?"

Eliza pauses, before she begins to sing.

Do I feel scared?
I do...
But I won't stop and falter-

Her eyes darted up to the doorway. Is the sun already set? Is it already dark? Its too soon, she's here and its too soon--

The last thing she remembered was a loud snap, and then nothing.

~~~

She could be in any game. The Balladeer had tried to specify a...crack? game. The Leading Player's power was strong so they couldn't just undo her curse. But she could be anywhere. She could be waking up and not remember anything.

Somehow, though, she did remember. A side effect of the Balladeer's countercurse? Or was the strange heaviness on her head the side effect?

"Oh!" At the cheery female voice, Eliza's eyes bolted open. She was in a bed (but not hers) in a room (its too modern), the sun shining through the windows. "You're still in bed? You need to go before its too late in the day!"

"Buh...?" Eliza blinked at the middle-aged woman standing in front of her, a backpack in her hand. "Wait, hang on, is this a--"

"Go on now!" The next thing the princess knew, she was being shoved out of the small but...admittedly well-groomed house, the backpack tossed into her hands. "You have a big journey ahead of you, dear! Make sure to write me, ok?"

SLAM. Eliza stared at the door before going to rub her head. Only to jerk it back when she felt something warm and furry suddenly climb on her hand. She stared at her hand.

The blue cat thing stared back at her with bright pink eyes as it clung to her hand.

"Ah, a newcomer?" Eliza quickly turned to face a male voice which came from behind her. "You seem flummoxed, yes? Might I assume you are not from around here?"

"Uh..." This isn't a murdergame. Right? "Well, sort of, yes, actually?...Um. Where am I."

The man in the labcoat looked back at Eliza, a gentle smile on his face. Something in his eyes seemed to scan her once, twice, before his smile spread.

"You needn't worry, mon ami." The man offered a hand to her and her...cat thing. "He's your Pokemon. And where you are...well, you at in Luminose City, in the Kalos region, princess!"

"...Excuse me?"

Eliza began to feel a very strange worry in her chest. Who the...ok, Aunt Natalie had the best word for it, who the fuck is this guy and how did he even remotely guess--

"I believe a spot of coffee is in order, perhaps." Professor Sycamore paused, then nodded. This person's arrival here - after years of rumors of previous people coming from other worlds, and that was even before Lysandre disappeared and...things happened in Kalos - it couldn't have been a coincidence. "There is much to talk about."

[(Anonymous)]

so with everyone revived, the cast parts ways and lives their lives in peace and happiness... for a while.

basically give me final destination style fic where a cast member who came back to life has to avoid increasingly ridiculous near death situations until trying not to get killed becomes run of the mill for them

[(Anonymous)]

Heather offs someone with a croquet mallet.

Swap AU | Any

[(Anonymous)]

Some cases or scenarios that go down in Swap AU! Who kills for what motive? Who kills who? What are their executions like? Anything, go wild.

Could also focus on what the dynamic is like between the Swap Survivors, because more about a survivor pool that contains Captain Hook and Darla Dimple sounds hilarious. Do they have a mole? Basically any elaborations on the great first fill (http://thebackstage.dreamwidth.org/2864.html?thread=160816#cmt160816).

tw: suicide mention

[(Anonymous)]

The Balladeer stands in the wings, waiting. The votes are taking a while to come in, but he can hear the cast's voices beyond the curtains. They'll be done soon.

"This isn't fair," he whispers, flicking off his mic to ensure no one hears. "It was an accident. A suicide, if anything." It never should have happened. He knew how Billy felt. They talked this week, a few days before the end, and he'd known that it hadn't made anything better. Maybe if he'd just left his office that night and gone to keep him company...

The Player puts her arm around him, laying her head along his shoulder. "Iiiii know, baby. It's awful. But you know we can't just go changing the rules now. If we start mixing up the execution formula, they're all gonna start coming up with ways it wasn't really their fault. Even if Charming doesn't deserve it, others are gonna."

He folds his arms around himself rather than answer. If only he could convince himself there wouldn't be more...

She squeezes his shoulders a little. "Look. If you really wanna cut it short, I won't say anything. Just make it look good, okay?" The Player reaches up to ruffle his hair, and vanishes with the blackout. All votes have been cast.

When the lights return, he steps out on his cue. Raoul is already there, backing away from the crewmember wearing Billy's hoodie. They're friends, he thinks, as much as any of the cast is his friend. He brought him that cookbook from the library, when no one had to bring him anything. But when he glances over at the Balladeer's entrance, it's obvious that he's not expecting any help.

The Balladeer takes a deep breath and nearly misses his verse.

Past the point of no return, no backward glances
The games of make-believe are at an end
Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting
Abandon hope and let your fate descend

He moves deliberately across the stage as he sings, keeping eye contact with Raoul as he goes. His steps are awkward; he's too conscious of the weight at his hip. But he sticks to their blocking, and does nothing to stop the crewmember from pressing in. There's a noose in their hands. Raoul fights back as well as he's able, but it isn't enough to keep the rope from his neck. He didn't keep his hand at the level of his eyes.

The Balladeer has seen hangings, and this one doesn't look right. That length wouldn't snap anyone's neck. This will be a slow and lingering death, for absolutely no reason at all.

He's seen too many of those already.

Below, the cast is shouting. They remember how Heather fell last week, how long it took until she was finally dead. But the Balladeer barely hears them. His motions feel too smooth, foreign, almost as if someone else is moving his limbs for him. He's never practiced this. But he draws the pistol from his hip (Iver-Johnson .34, why was it here?) and fires in a single movement. Blood sprays across the stage. Raoul drops, nothing now but a limp body dangling by the neck. He got a kill shot, the Balladeer realizes distantly. Beginner's luck.

His hands are shaking. The gun drops. He can't stop the pained wail that's starting to leak out from between his lips, even as he tries to muffle it with his hands.

The stage lights go out. The curtain swishes shut.

The cast doesn't see him again until Tuesday.

[(Anonymous)]

Rather than be sent to certain death in his own world, Hook is put in a seniors' home. Hilarity ensues.

[(Anonymous)]

not op but imagine Hans and Balladeer posing as his grandsons to put him there/visiting him to make sure he hasn't led an old people revolt

[(Anonymous)]

We had a lot of player considerations this round - what would this round be like with an alternate cast, or if some characters were replaced entirely?

[(Anonymous)]

okay but imagine robbie rotten

[(Anonymous)]

The Leading Player attempts to take revenge on Hime for the bucket toss.

Hansadeer

[(Anonymous)]

Hans and the Balladeer go to a carnival and ride the ferris wheel together I need some fluff after all this pain

[(Anonymous)]

Show me B and his time-traveling band of assassin hunters.

Which makes them sound more terrifying and competent than they probably are, tbh

[(Anonymous)]

Somewhere in this city, Booth and his conspirators are having their last meeting. Here, the Balladeer and his are having what he hopes will be the first of several.

"Okay," he says in a low tone, leaning forward to spread several old photographs across the table. The room is loud and the air smoky; it's probably awful for his throat, but it's the 1800s. What can you do? Everyone else in the bar is still celebrating the end of the war. It's his job - their job - to keep the party going. "There's some moving parts to all this. First, Atzerodt. He was sent to assassinate the vice-president, but he's gonna go get drunk instead. I'd like someone to keep an eye on him, just in case, but I don't think anything will happen. D-ne, think you can do that alone?"

D-ne smiles thinly, hands in her lap. "Watch a drunken man for a few hours? I don't see why not."

"Great. Don't be afraid to get involved if he acts up. Just smack him a few times. Next - " The Balladeer raps his knuckles on the table by the next photo. " - Powell. He tries to kill the secretary of state. He'll fail, but he injures Seward and his son pretty badly. It'd be better if we stopped him first. Obviously he's violent: his gun will misfire, but he's not afraid to brain people with it, and he's also got a knife. Billy, I was thinking maybe you could just wait outside the house and pick him off with your science gun?"

"It's just a freeze ray." Billy glances around cautiously, before laying the freeze ray out on the table. "But it could keep him still for a few hours at least? I think I've improved it, since...uh, yeah."

"If he starts moving again, I'll take care of it," Anna chimes in. The glint in her eye challenges anyone to defy her, and the Balladeer wonders once more if he really should have brought the crown princess of Arendelle along on this. If anything happens, Elsa will kill him. But she apparently managed to hold her own against Charlemagne, and even if he doubts the old bastard was trying to kill her for real, he's still got to be leagues tougher than Lewis Powell.

"Right..." He pushes aside his doubts. If nothing else, it'll all happen right near the street. Any prolonged commotion will draw attention. "And Hans, I was thinking you and I could go see Booth." His voice drops slightly in loathing. "I don't know if this one will recognize me, but I want to be there when we get him. I know where to wait. We can catch him by surprise, you'll knock him out, and we'll get him to the authorities. Is that okay?"

Hans scoffs a little. He's seen pictures of this guy; more importantly, he's heard just how much Bal hates him. Bal doesn't even hate the Leading Player as much as he hates Booth. "Trust me, it won't be a problem."

"Great. If we get them all arrested, they'll be executed by the government, and hopefully no one else will try this bullshit for at least another decade or two." Part of him feels a little uncomfortably bloodthirsty at the thought of planning executions again, even by proxy...but they all ended up dead anyway, didn't they? It's just natural consequences. "Call me if anything goes wrong. Are we good?"

Anna's the one who lays her hand in the center of the circle first. Billy's quick to follow suit, then D-ne, then, hesitantly, Hans. The Balladeer grins, laying his hand on top. "Awesome. Let's go, team!"

[(Anonymous)]

A day in the life of a Royal Guard of Arendelle, being casually terrorized by all of Princess Anna's weird friends

[(Anonymous)]

Game canon survivors and Survivorswap survivors meet. Or game canon dead and Survivorswap dead.

[(Anonymous)]

Over the years, Hans has created a routine for himself in Chicago. He starts his day waking in expensive silk sheets, the best his newfound income can buy.

He doesn't typically wake up with a body beside him.

Slowly, he turns over to face whoever's there, and is shocked to find he recognizes them. It's been years since he last saw the Balladeer - or is this Billy? The man stirs as Hans sits up in bed, turning to blink up at him as if this is all entirely normal. "Morning."

"...morning." He smiles softly - he may not know what's going on, but that's what people do in this kind of situation, isn't it? It's probably what he would've had to do with Anna every single day, if they'd ever actually gotten married. Wouldn't she be here now, if this were Billy? Does that mean it's the Balladeer?

Whatever's happening, he's not about to let on that he's lost and confused. He's way too vulnerable here already. The other man, whoever he is, sits up and yawns, running a hand through his hair. "I think I'm gonna grab the shower first, do you mind?"

"No, of course not." That sounds like the perfect opportunity to explore, in fact. Hans glances around. Attached bath, it looks like, and a hallway that must lead to the rest of this place? "I'll make us breakfast," he decides, rising and making for the door. He's wearing clothes he doesn't recognize too - they look okay, he guesses, but he'd have picked something fancier.

Doesn't matter. It's bizarre to think that this could be the Balladeer. He remembers the coldness in the man's eyes when they last spoke, if being sent off to Chicago with a snap of the fingers counted as a conversation. Thinking of that missed opportunity still upsets him. If he'd known the guy was going to end up so powerful, he'd have kept that "friendship" going as long as he could.

But maybe this is his second chance. Marrying into a throne would've been one thing, but if he's reading all these signals right, it looks like this was a way better deal. He needs to figure out what's going on, fast. He's got to get secure in this new situation, and then he can start feeling out exactly what kinds of miracles a narrator might be convinced to grant his...whatever they're supposed to be.

---

Behind him, the Balladeer tilts his head up at the ceiling, feeling out the atmosphere. Hans wasn't acting quite himself. It wasn't especially unusual either, but he felt that perspective change. Something's just happened that the audience wants to see his reaction to, and he's not sure what it was. If this were just all from Hans's point of view, he'd have accepted it without much thought, but this? It's worrying.

Rather than go into the bathroom, he sits again, smoothing down the sheets on Hans's side of the bed thoughtfully. He makes a general rule not to pry into people's internal monologues, but maybe just this once -

- pictures in the hall of the two of them in different locations. It's definitely the Balladeer, Billy never wore that much flannel. Damn, how did this other him manage to manipulate someone that powerful so thoroughly? He's jealous -

- ah. Yes. That isn't game canon.

He feels suddenly cold, and tugs the blanket back over his legs sharply. Someone who doesn't know him. A different Hans, then, probably from some AU. Those are common enough. The Balladeer sits quietly and listens for movement outside. After a second or two of silence, he stands and starts getting dressed. No time to shower now. He's got to get this fixed.

...it's been years since he really thought about the possibility that Hans could be conning him. He doesn't really believe it. It's just sometimes, when he touches his hair in a certain way...

The Balladeer hesitates a moment, then moves to the wardrobe to retrieve his old bomber jacket. It doesn't fit any better now than it did back then, and he fancies a hint of gunpowder still lingers in the air around it. But slipping it on reminds him of his old show, when he had to be wary. It reminds him of Hans. Both good reminders, right now.

He'll make an excuse, some other reason to leave home for an hour or two. Let this alternate version think he's tricked him, if it'll keep him happy. He'll never make it out of this dimension on his own - by the time he realizes he's been uncovered, this plot will be well on its way to resolution.





...no, he's being stupid. There'll be a climax no matter what he does. He's got a good idea of where it would happen, too...the Balladeer makes a mental note to drop by Arendelle before he begins his search. Open communication can avoid so many negative plot twists...

Any ship | Praise Kink

[(Anonymous)]

Alright time to put the kink in kink meme boy am I glad this is anon

exactly what it says on the tin - any ship, with one partner getting off on being praised and the other enjoying doing the praising.

+ happy, emotionally overwhelmed crying (double points if it's Hans who cries)
++ the praisee/praiser is the opposite of who you'd expect (much though I'd also love the emotionally starved/low self esteem halves being the ones praised, I'd also love to see them just bubbling over with praise and adoration for their partners and their partners surprisingly enjoying it more than they expected)
+++ the sex itself is completely vanilla
++++ the praisee had no idea this was their kink

cw: we all need jesus

[(Anonymous)]

“I’ve never done this before,” Javert says, his words halted and stumbling. Immediately after saying it, he regrets it as if saying something so obvious was a waste of everyone’s time. But this isn’t a question of everyone, it’s a question of the two of them.

Jean Valjean – but not his Valjean, though the possession feels wrong in his mind when it was this man he’d been through so much with (And yet, too, are the thoughts of the man who saved him. They intertwine and they are messy and they make no sense; and such is the chaos of the universe he has always tried to avoid) – sits in his lap. The man leans up against him, his back against his chest, his hand resting on his thigh.

“That’s quite alright,” Valjean replies, his own voice strong for all that it also wavers with anticipation. Javert’s hand has found its way down his pants, so, all things considered the evenness of his tone was a testament to his abilities. “You’re doing just fine, Inspector.”

Javert almost corrects him, on both counts. But he decides that, too, would be a waste, and instead focuses on the task at hand. In hand. The cock in his hand. Javert takes a deep, steadying breath, and ten pumps his hand along Jean Valjean’s length, feeling not for the first time like he’s a fish out of water.

“A-ah,” Valjean’s voice is sweet when he gives into it, equal parts adoration and praise. “You see? You’ve got – you’ve got the right idea.”

There’s something about it that makes Javert want to try harder, be better. He tries again, a second stroke more sure this time and follows it with another. Valjean’s voice sings his praise. It’s not a cold, broken hallelujah but one that is vibrant and wonderful.

“Javert,” Valjean says, using his name. Javert wonders if it has ever sounded so sweet until now. “You’re so good. That feels --” He moans again as Javert figures out just how to touch him, just where it feels right. “Perfect. That feels perfect.”

Javert had served many masters in his day, but none of them had felt nearly so rewarding or nearly so wonderful as hearing praise on Valjean’s lips. As hearing his name on Valjean’s lips. It is supplication and that feels backwards to him, because surely he’s the one following Valjean’s lead. Surely he’s the one trying to earn Valjean’s praise.

“You’re always so good at what you do,” Valjean tells him as he leans back, pressing himself closer. They’d been playing a game of cat and mouse for years (with each other, with other versions of each other did it matter anymore?) but to hear the mouse praise the cat for its tactics? Was that a scenario he ever thought possible?

The truth is, Valjean feels the tears on his shoulder long before Javert realizes that he’s crying. The truth is, Valjean knows what he’s doing. He can feel the Inspector’s growing erection underneath him, can feel the way praise takes a home inside of Javert and presses against his everything, drawing tears from his eyes. He knows they are not unhappy, so he presses for more. They are not lies, Javert touches him in ways he would never have expected. The man’s hands are calloused and rough but they are not bad. And there is a kindness to them Valjean didn’t think he’d find from this man.

Javert feels like salvation. And the way he responds to praise makes Valjean feel like he’s saving Javert in turn. They are equals as they always have been, even when Javert is the only one doing the touching. Valjean gets the sense the Inspector would not have it any other way.

Valjean does him the kindness of not pointing out when he cries. He presses closer and moans close to his ear, quiet and intimate and tells him all the things he knows he wants to hear. Javert isn’t the only one getting harder for those things having life.

“Your hands are so strong,” Valjean says, “so capable.” He wonders how this man who always acted so sure of himself, who never asked for praise and hardly ever accepted it had lived so long by rejecting what he wanted. But it’s hard to think too much about those things when Javert’s hands are so skilled as they pump along his cock and press against the head. Valjean finds himself gasping for breath, shuddering. “God,” he cries out as he comes, and underneath him he feels Javert tense and lose it too.

[(Anonymous)]

Arendelle still has diplomatic ties with the Southern Isles. Someone from the cast meets the other Westergaards.

[(Anonymous)]

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a king lived with his thirteen sons. Although they had everything their hearts desired, the king and the princes were spoiled, selfish, and unkind.

But then, one spring morning, word reached the castle of a tragedy. The youngest prince, returning home in disgrace from a distant land, had been lost at sea. The king sneered at the servant carrying the message and sent him away, but the man paused first to offer his condolences, for it must be a terrible thing to lose a child. Again the king dismissed him, scoffing. The youngest son was a worthless failure, and there would be no official mourning; instead, he sent the other princes to remove all traces of their brother from the castle grounds.

Four of the brothers went to the lost prince’s room. They packed his belongings in boxes and began to clear them away. As they worked, they met a servant in the hall. “These things are still good,” he said to them, “and they belonged to your lost brother. Will you keep nothing?” But the brothers laughed. They did not care to remember the lost prince, nor even to think of him any longer. They gave the boxes to the servant to dispose of, and dismissed him.

Four more brothers went down to the royal stables. Though the prince was lost, his horse had survived the voyage and returned safely. But there was no one now who cared to ride him or care for him, so they took him from his stable and handed the reins to the nearest servant, telling him to bring the horse to market and return the funds to them. “This horse belonged to the lost prince,” the servant replied. “I will find a good master, who will care for him as he deserves.” But the brothers laughed. They scolded the servant, telling him to sell the horse to the highest bidder, and dismissed him.

The last three brothers remained in the great hall of the castle, for though none of them had cared for the youngest, he had still been a prince. There was a small portrait of him hanging the farthest end of the hall, and his name was in the great tapestry of the king’s lineage. Under their father’s direction, the three took the portrait down. Then the king called all of the brothers together, for they were to watch something that had never been done before. The lost prince’s name would be burned from the tapestry, both to destroy his memory and to warn the others to never fail as he had done.

The king called for fire, but the servant who brought the candlestick did not give it to him. “This has been in your family for generations,” he said. “Will you really ruin it out of nothing but spite?” This impudence enraged the king, and he snatched the candlestick himself. But when he dismissed the servant, the man’s simple castle uniform burned away, to reveal a powerful enchanter.

The king and princes drew their swords, but it was too late, for the enchanter had seen that there was no love in their hearts. As punishment, in keeping with genre conventions, he transformed them into hideous serpents, and drove them into the cold depths of the sea. He also laid a powerful spell on the candlestick, and cast it into the ocean alongside them. If any of them could learn to love another by the time the silver was fully tarnished, then the spell upon him would be broken. If not, they would be doomed to remain solitary monsters for all time.

There was one prince who had left the castle when news of his brother’s death arrived. When he returned in the evening, he found the enchanter standing alone on the shore. “You do not deserve a curse,” he told the prince, “but I don’t believe you deserve this kingdom either, for you have done nothing to be worthy of it. What you deserve is a chance. Take the throne if you will, but show your people more care and protection than you ever showed your brother, for you and I will meet again.” He gave the prince his father’s crown. Then he took the boxes and the horse and the portrait, and took his leave.

---

“And that,” said Queen Elsa, folding up the letter, “is apparently the story of why I have to send a representative to King Lars Westergaard's coronation. I don’t suppose you have anything to say about all that?”

Billy and Anna exchanged a long, silent glance. “Nooooo...?” Anna replied. “But we can’t go! We – I just don’t want to have to meet with any of Hans’s family.”

Billy nodded in fervent agreement. “Ever.”

[(Anonymous)]

Any character(s), reintegrating themselves back into society.

[(Anonymous)]

Having a sheltered childhood in Lebanon near the end of the Cold War was one thing. Having her family disappear and being taken in by the demon who killed them, moved to Romania, raised to only learn how to be evil, and having an angry Biblical figure possess her because she was destined to switch sides anyway? Another. Dying after making friends? Going to murder opera? Dying again? At this point, it was surprising that Astarte could do anything resembling settling in a regular little town.

Okay, Pikarigaoka wasn't regular. But you know.

"The bathtub is huge," Astarte said, staring in awe as she stepped into the bathroom with a blue bunny-patterned towel on. "Why is it full?"

D-ne and Hime poked their heads in. The former coughed. "Why wouldn't it be full? We need to bathe."

"It seems wasteful." Astarte measured about an inch of water. "This is what we used back home."

"That's kind of gross," Hime said, making a face. "Besides, we're all using it."

Astarte considered this. "Amazing..."

D-ne shook her head. "I can't wait to see school at this rate."

[(Anonymous)]

You never know what roles a murdergame will develop after a single round, given that the hero/heart/cynic/decoy protagonist/etc DRRP model turned out VERY different from the leader/reformed villain/corrupted hero/misplaced shounen hero/etc Trustfell model. Yet the Leading Player built her entire murdergame around roles. Give me something going into her thought process here.

[(Anonymous)]

Give me any group of characters playing a board game. What are they stuck playing, who wins, who cracks first?

[(Anonymous)]

bonus points if javert is dead fucking serious about the rules

[(Anonymous)]

high school au

some of the adults can be teachers or just everyone is in high school jean valjean ran in the halls once to save a baby bird and hall monitor javert will never forgive him i don't care just

i want it

[(Anonymous)]

it was tater tot day in the cafeteria and he smuggled a bunch out in his pockets to bring to some freshmen who were stuck in the back of the line and didn't get any

nineteen weeks detention

[(Anonymous)]

Even after the final trial, the Balladeer still suffers from occasional memory lapses. He and Hans learn to cope.

[(Anonymous)]

ok but 50 First Dates AU when