thebackstage | a little kink [the It's Curtains 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Over the years, Hans had created a routine for himself with the Balladeer. He starts his day waking up beside him, running his fingers down his back or over his neck, sliding down till he reaches that familiar scar on his shoulder. Then it's followed by a shower, breakfast, and a few different newspapers to keep them up to date on how everyone was doing. Even if Hans didn't care too much for the rest of the cast, he's still kind of invested in their gossip.

He doesn't typically wake up alone, not anymore. It feels like it's been ages since—

"Bal?" Hans rolls over and reaches out beside him but his arm touches only an empty side of the bed. It's not even warm, it's like the Balladeer had never even been there.

Sitting up, Hans opens his eyes and finds himself surrounded by an entirely bed, in an entirely unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar apartment. He's wearing silk pajamas and laying in expensive silk sheets. Whose bed was this? Why wasn't he with the Balladeer?

He gets out of bed and starts taking a look at his surroundings. There are plaques on the walls, framed pages of newspapers with his name in the headlines. Most importantly, a framed piece of paper above his dresser seems to prove he passed the state bar exam in Illinois.

He's in Chicago. And judging by his collection of pictures and paintings of himself, he's certain he's entirely alone.

"Oh, this is bad." Hans says out loud. It helps calm him down a little before the reality of the situation dawns on him.

This is bad. This apartment was nice, his clothes in his closet were all sharp suits and shined shoes. If the headlines were anything to go by, Hans Westergaard was an attorney who'd gotten innocent and guilty people out on technicalities, loopholes and lies the likes of which had never been seen.

But this isn't right. This wasn't him, not anymore. He'd turned in his lies for calm mornings and slow evenings and first times with a man who is still learning what normal feels like. He'd traded the fame and glory for true love—and as dumb as it still sounds to him, it's the right choice. So what is he doing here now, in some other Hans' life?

And where was the Balladeer? He'd know how to fix this somehow.

--

Somewhere far, far away from Chicago, the Balladeer gets the kind of chill that could only mean one thing. The narrative needed him for something, and it wasn't going to be something he'd like.

Far be it for him to doubt the powers that be. He snaps his fingers and lets the story take him where he's needed. The last thing he expects is to show up in Hans' apartment.

Oh, there's no way this asshole is getting any narration from him.

--

The last thing Hans expects is for the Balladeer to show up in the apartment, right in that moment. He looks just like how Hans left him (give or take a few articles of clothing,) but if this is indeed some weird dream or retelling of his story, at least the Balladeer hasn't changed.

Then again, maybe he has, going by the glare he gives Hans when Hans greets him with a smile.

"Bal—" That's definitely disgust on his face, Hans quickly corrects himself. "—ladeer. What a surprise." Nice save. Though he has no idea why he bothers keeping his cool. Surely the Balladeer must know something is wrong? Can't he sense this stuff?

"I can." The Balladeer responds, sighing like he needs a shower after sifting through Hans' internal monologue. Hans has never been more grateful for the fact that the Balladeer can usually (and often accidentally) read minds.

"How do you know that? I've never told... oh, wait. You're from some crack universe, aren't you?" He crosses his arms, taking a few steps away but keeping a wary game fixed firmly fixed on Hans.

Hans has no clue what that means, but he nods anyway. Usually when Bal drops terms like that it goes over his head until he mulls it over on his own later. But context usually helps, and he's got none of that here. Maybe if the Balladeer were narrating he could explain—

"Hell no, I'm not narrating for you, Mirror. Even if you are from some crack universe where we... live together and get married." He shudders. The way The Balladeer even refuses to say his name speaks volumes, never mind the fact that he almost gagged on the last few words. Hans would love to say he can't imagine what another him may have done to earn that ire, but honestly, he can. He might have fallen in love, but he's still that guy, deep down.

That thought seems to make the Balladeer sneer. Hans hasn't seen him frown this hard since the last trial, when he was still missing his memories. It's a little unsettling, so he can perhaps imagine how the Balladeer feels, watching concern rise to Hans' face. Was it really that weird?"

"Can you fix this? Please?" Hans isn't sure of the why or how, only that he's not where he should be. He's got a golden ending to get back to, a world with less silk and more flannel, where he wakes up with a kiss every morning and sleeps every night with—

"I'm gonna cut you off right there. I don't need to see that." The Balladeer shakes the image out of his head. He's made his way to the other side of the bed now, and when he smooths his hand over the sheets, he releases a disappointed sigh. Hans can't imagine why.

"The you that belongs in this world is a grade-A asshole. Don't think that I want him back here any more than you want to go back there," he tilts his head, like he's listening to some higher power talk. He probably is.

"I—"

"Tell you what," he starts, cutting Hans off at the punch. His Balladeer was never nearly this rude.

The Balladeer scoffs. "There's a lesson to be learned here. And maybe you already learned it, but it never hurts." He stands and straightens himself up again, seemingly in control of the situation now. Maybe he really is.

"You never did anything for nothing, so how's about you do a few favors for me? Then I'll see about sending you home." Hans nods. He should wait and hear the terms, maybe even ask for them in writing if he's supposed to he a lawyer. But that's not who Hans is anymore. He changed. There was no going back.

"I'll do it. Just tell me what you need me to do."

The Balladeer's face lights up. For a second, Hans hopes it's for his eyes only, but the joy in his eyes is more likely from the prospect of torturing Hans and getting all his work done, not the fact that Hans said yes at all. He starts counting things off on his fingers, completely ignoring Hans and stepping out into the rest of the apartment.

"Okay, great! I need to run a few errands while I meet Eliza and her boys for lunch tomorrow. And Hime is expecting me this weekend, so I'll need you to carry some stuff to her embassy. Oh, and Anna will want some chocolates while we're here in Chicago, maybe you can get those..."

This is going to be a long story. Maybe if Hans is lucky, his Balladeer will figure something out before all that.

I mean, no one would let it end like this, right?

yowls softly into the void oh noooooop

This is so great and I really hope you make it an ongoing thing with the Hans' meeting people from their different universes (and Bal reuniting with the correct Hans and giving him plenty of smooches)

I couldddddddddd.... time to pull the survivorswaps together

I am completely willing to lovingly bribe you with a paid, just sayin

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

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