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)]

prompt: there is no golden end

[(Anonymous)]

disclaimer i wrote this in half an hr and did not edit it



New York City is cold.

They both hate it, and Anna won’t stop bitching about how it reminds her of England. Cold, with large piles of snow that stick around for weeks, dirtying from pollution, melting at last only to turn into a sticky, humid summer. Anna won’t stop bitching about that either, and by the time Christine and Santana are safely enrolled in college, they finally escape the city. Nana’s back in Tokyo anyway, trying desperately to fill the void Claudine left behind, and failing — it seems unfair for the other 4 to be in the same place, while Nana’s far away.

They do some of that traveling, seeing the world, like he’d wanted to— only instead of Stephen beside him, it’s Anna. She’s a bit more fun, now that she’s sworn off her Catholic ways, but he still feels a heavy guilt when he thinks of the damnation he’s brought to her. She insists she doesn’t care, kisses his brow and makes sure he’s eating and dressed properly for every occasion. She’s obnoxious, sometimes, causing scenes and always singing— but he knows they wouldn’t survive without each other, so he tolerates her.

She takes him to Germany, shows him the ruins of her old home— shows him the church where her siblings are buried, from a distance. At night, they go clubbing— her hometown is the birthplace of some strange kind of electric music, fittingly enough. In the dark, music pounding so loud they can’t hear each other, the neon lights blinding, he loses track of her. She’s slipped away with a tall woman who speaks her language, and he finds someone to waste a few hours with too. But in early hours of the morning, they always find their way back together, curled up together in bed, clinging to the only thing they have left.

When it gets cold again, they travel south, to an island resort somewhere, where he hopes he may hear an end to her incessant complaining about the temperature. Instead, even on the beach in paradise, she gripes about the heat, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“If you think it’s hot now, what do you expect hell will be?” He snaps once, having enough of her nonsense.

“I don’t know.” She responds, her tone somehow still musical. “Never been. You tell me.”

There’s a steely silence. But Anna’s hand creeps to his after a few minutes have passed. They watch the sun set together. They always do.