#and they'd just look at each other in silence like “He's talking about the Duke isn't he” “it's totally about the Duke” “there is no dog”

[redthemarten]

He just... gets a little overexcited when talking about his puppy is all... 👉👈💦

Kind of a followup to [this].

[mysticstarlightduck]

5 lines tag game!

I was tagged by @cowboybrunch for this one, (here) thanks for the tag! I'll go with my WIP "Of Starlight and Beasts" for this one.

Your lines are: a line about fear, an adorable line, a line about taste, a line with an argument and a sarcastic/funny line.

_____

A line about clothes: (context: Nimwen's scarf helps her keep herself grounded after she and Corah are trapped in a cave after some misguided decisions, and they know next to nothing about each other . At this point in the story, Nim still thought they were enemies - and due to her less than ideal past experiences with knights, she was terrified, despite Corah trying to convince her otherwise.)

Silence seemed to eat at her, closing in the trapped, suffocating space of the small cave even more, but she still refused to answer, or even make eye contact with the other girl - Corah, she reminded herself, as an afterthought. A knight 'trying to help', she scoffed. What a stupid notion.

Nimwen's fingers numbly fiddled with the fraying edges of her soft red scarf, twisting and twirling the material, as if in an effort to focus on something else other than a swirl of emotions she was faced with right now. They'd be out of here soon - and that would be the end of it, surely.

This one knight seemed well-meaning, Nim figured. Trusting would be a risk that could pay off. Still, her thoughts could not help but wander years away, to sights of the executioner's blade, the sickening squelch of iron against bone, blood splashed at her feet and gown drenching the fine cloth as she was dragged away into the muted crowd, armored figures - the same radiant symbol on their chest plates - clanking to remove his headless body from the square. She closed her eyes and breathed.

The scarf. Her hand wrapped around it. She was still alive, she was still here - and the past was in the past. Scarlet would be here soon, and all they had to do was wait. And hope all knights were not like the ones in the square.

A funny line

"If that thing ate us, do you think we'd have a slow and painful death digested by the acids in its stomach as our skin melts off and our brains become jelly or would we just get torn apart limb from limb by its teeth first? I bet it's the first one." Masen tilts his head sideways, peeking beyond the rock at the giant, slithering serpent in the snowy chasm below.

The group turns their heads to him in unison, with a varied mix of equally uncomfortable expressions. Corah broke the silence, still whispering.

"I have a better question. Why are you like this?"

Before Masen could answer, his twin piped up, deadpan voice dripping sarcasm "Now you all know what I had to deal with. But can we get off this rocky death trap before the snake decides to turn brother dearest's daydreams into a reality?"

A line with fighting (Argument, not physical)

Eidan's hand trembled, and he closed it into a fist to hide it. His eyes pierced the nobleman's, seeing a mockery he knew all too well. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh yeah, enlighten me then, 'little hero'." The man sneered, looking around the crowded room as if expecting applause or confirmation, as the others erupted into whispers. "Or should I say, disgraceful nephew of a traitor?"

Eidan opened his mouth, then closed it. There it was, he noticed, the familiar burn of humiliation threatening to silence him, again. He knew this guy knew this too, if his seemingly victorious smirk was anything to go by.

There were laughs, and loud, barely hushed gasps. He urged to silence him, to scream and rage at the slight to his honorable family's name, but couldn't find the words to speak. His uncle was really a traitor - a drunken, shameful wretch who left behind nothing but sorrow in his wake. Eidan wished he could say differently, but the what little honor his name had was lost alongside the Duke and his family. His heart wanted to claw its way out of his chest and stop right there.

But finally, the last second, from the corner of his eye, he met Maryon's eyes amidst the crowd. He remembered their conversation, if barely, and managed to mumble out an answer.

"Trust me, I would." He started, at first shaky but slowly gaining confidence. "But not like this. You're not entitled to my past. Plus, now that I think of it, I guess your head is far too deep up your own arse to understand anything either way, you craven excuse for a lord."

"You impudent wretch -!"

The man moved to strike him, and Eidan didn't back away. Thankuly the great hall doors swung open, and a familiar figure clad in golden robes strode in. "You will stop, Lord Berwyl, if you value your neck." She ordered, and half of her personal guards already had their spears turned to the nobleman, who lowered his hand, albeit begrudgingly.

A line I'm proud of

"What is this place?" Corah looked around, brows furrowed. Her hand still rested idly at the handle of her sword - she'd never seen a city like this in any of their travels. It seemed at the same time lively and homely but also ghostly, like something lost in time, never to be found again.

Maryon turned towards her as she started to speak, but continued walking. "This is the underworld of a dead city that is fighting to be revived." She said, plainly. And that was a very accurate description.

All around them, the city - carved into the ground below what once was a beautiful sunlit kingdom - held traces of a past long since gone, but never quite buried or forgotten. Vast statues whose fine details had long since been brushed off by time peeked through makeshift buildings built out of old driftwood. Cramped marketplaces stood in what once was a city square. To the side, she could see the outline of an old temple repurposed as improvised and crowded house of healing. The past and the present, old and new, something of what was forgotten but never quite left.

Corah felt torn - at the same time, this was the hopeful reminder of what simple folk could accomplish by just working together, despite all hardships, but it was also a testament to the wounds her kingdom had accidentally inflicted on others through its inaction in the past. When Idraven fell into the curse and wars, her kingdom stood and watched - and the thought filled her with an anger she never thought she'd feel towards her kingdom's own royalty.

"If we want to venture further into the Crimson Queen's domain this is only the beginning. We need to find whoever runs this place, and quickly" Kyran spoke, suddenly standing at her side. Corah blinked.

She was about to say something in agreement, when Arammys' voice piped up from somewhere behind them. Corah realized that, in this underground's bustling maze, they hadn't paid enough attention as to where they were going.

"...I have a feeling it won't take much longer. Um, guys?"

When she whirled around, she understood what he meant. They didn't need to find the one in charge, because she had already found them. And whoever this young woman was, she didn't seem too happy to find out trespassers from another land had just discovered the hidden entrance to her city. Neither did the five heavily armed guards standing beside this woman, with crossbows aimed at Corah and the others, ready to shoot at a moments notice.

Corah looked at her friends, all frozen in place - their lives hanging in the balance of a stranger's decision. As Corah raised up her hands, in what she hoped was a placating gesture, the young woman stepped forward, though her soldiers remained at the ready.

"I believe there explanations in order, wouldn't you agree?" The young woman spoke. Now that she was closer, Corah could see that she wasn't much older than any of them, though her eyes look as icy as the storms of the Frosts, and her presence was as imposing as that of any battle worn general. Corah maintained her gaze. "You will follow me to my fortress, and there we shall decide your fate. Choose your words carefully - for they might weigh on whether or not I decide to kill any of you. It's a mercy I haven't already."

With that, she turned away and gestured for her soldiers, who moved in unison towards the gathered group, not so gently urging them to start walking in the chosen direction.

"Name's Leora Tallin, and no one gets into my city without my explicit permission. Consider yourselves 'unwelcome', for the time being. Shall we?"

Tagging (gently, no pressure): @agirlandherquill, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories, @illarian-rambling, @elshells, @winterandwords, @writernopal, @moonandris, @eccaiia, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @clairelsonao3, @thepeculiarbird, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs, @ybotter, @aalinaaaaaa, @autumnalwalker, @oh-no-another-idea, @cowboybrunch and OPEN TAG

[ninjadeathblade]

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part nine)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Word count: 555

Warnings: None

Author's notes: I wrote this earlier today because I want to get to Conductor's casting. But the chapters with him and Grooves being cast were too close together so take this. Not the best I could've done but better stuff will come soon. Enjoy. :)

Conductor scanned over what he'd planned for the end of the movie.

Satine would die in Christian's arms after they'd reconciled their love for one another.

The show would have been performed.

The Duke would end up alone, and almost everyone would get the happy ending they wanted.

Satine would use her final breaths to tell Christian to share their story.

And it would cut back to the narration at the beginning, with Christian using the typewriter.

Conductor flipped back to the beginning of the script and began writing in the opening monologue.

"The Moulin Rouge. A night club, a dance hall and a bordello, ruled over by Harold Zidler," he said as he wrote it down.

"A kingdom of nightmare pleasures where the rich and powerful played with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld."

A floorboard creaked and the Conductor looked up sharply.

Grooves guiltily stood at the side of the room, near the door, almost blending in due to his dark jacket.

"How long have you been there?" The owl asked.

"Long enough to find out you talk to yourself while writing," Grooves said, tone playful as he crossed over and sat down near Conductor.

"I don't always. Just helps sometimes," Conductor mumbled. "Shouldn't you be rehearsing?"

Embarrassment flashed across Grooves' features. "I thought I'd come check on you. I haven't seen you out of your office all day."

Conductor sighed, putting down his pen and resting his head in one hand.

"I'm fine. I've got yer jacket if you still want it back. Sorry I didn't return it sooner."

Grooves shook his head. "Hey, it's my fault for not coming here sooner to get it back."

"Can I be honest?"

"Always."

"It feels weird seeing you out of it," Conductor admitted, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Aw, Connie, you think so?" Grooves laughed, sunglasses slipping down his beak slightly as he leant forwards.

Conductor gently hit the penguin with his free hand.

"Don't call me that," he replied, trying to not start laughing as well.

"What, you don't like it…Connie?" Grooves teased.

Conductor couldn't help the laughter that burst out of him.

"Ha! I knew it!" Grooves shook with laughter.

A knock on the door startled them both as they tried to quieten their amusement.

Conductor strode over to the door, opening it a crack. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for Grooves. Have you seen him anywhere?" Snatcher asked.

Despite what he had said before, the ghost had stuck with his same regal look.

Conductor glanced back into his office, watching as Grooves shook his head.

"No. Did yer check his office?" Conductor lied.

"Not yet. I was about to but thought I should check with you first," Snatcher explained.

"Go on then. I haven't seen him so there's no point in you hangin' around." Conductor shut the door, walking back over to Grooves.

They sat in silence together for a few moments before speaking.

"Why did you really come here?" Conductor asked gently. Grooves sighed, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes.

"Where the little girl brought in a couple more of her friends, it just- the place feels like chaos. I just wanted somewhere quiet and safe," Grooves admitted, putting his sunglasses back on.

"Well, you can always come to my office if you need it."

"Thanks Connie."

[wastelandcth]

birthday polaroid - cth

summary: making memories on calum’s 25th birthday. 

author’s notes: happy birthday to calum! i hope he has a wonderful day and i hope you guys enjoy a little moment in time with our favorite guy. thanks to @lowkeyflop​ for sending me an idea that inspired this piece. 

masterlist || request

Everyone around them knew. The small touches and the laughs shared between one another when they thought no one was looking. Everyone knew from the lasting gazes or the way they always found each other in a crowd. Calum knew that he liked her and if he was being honest, he was absolutely terrified to find out if she felt the same. But everyone knew the truth. They were inseparable and it was no secret that there was something more than just friendship. 

When Calum and her first became friends, it was nothing more than hanging out with their friend group and texting every once in a while. Calum couldn't remember when things changed between the two of them. He couldn't remember when his heart started racing every time he thought about her or being near her. He couldn't remember when he started craving her attention. But he wasn't sure if she felt the same way about him. He didn't know if her hands got sweaty and her mouth dry when they hung out. But he really hoped so. 

She was in love with Calum. That much she knew. She was in love with the person she'd seen him become in the years of friendship. She was in love with his smile and his laugh and everything about him. She never had any plans to tell him how she felt, that would've been insane. She knew Calum, she knew that relationships were never for him and knew that he was afraid to ever be vulnerable in front of a person like that again. So no, there was no way she was ever going to tell Calum that she was truly, madly, and deeply in love with him. 

One thing Calum loved about her was how passionate she was about celebrating life and all the joys that came with being a human. When Calum first started hanging out with her alone, he learned very early on that she always tried to make everyone's day better. Whether it was playing Calum's favorite song in the car whenever he was having a bad day or letting Michael borrow her fuzzy sweater when he was cold and had forgotten a jacket on movie night. But Calum found himself more and more in love with her whenever she was just herself when she was with him and she was carefree. He loved listening to her laugh and then talk about something she was loving that day. He loved watching her eye light up whenever her favorite song played and the way she would dance along to the music in the car. 

Usually, on his birthday, Calum made plans to spend it with his friends and close ones. They'd usually go out to brunch and start the day off planning whatever fun activity they had for Cal's big day. Then there was the usual outing to whatever club they'd gotten bottle service at that night. Or there was a party at someone's house which usually ended with too many shots and Calum ending up on social media the next morning replaying the events of the night. But this year, Calum felt like shit. His cold started off as a tickle in the back of his throat, a tickle that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he cleared his throat or how many cups of tea he drank. Eventually, the tickle turned into a sore throat and a runny nose with a cough that forced Calum to make the decision on how his twenty-fifth birthday to be canceled. The day before his birthday, which was usually spent hydrating and what Calum described as the calm before the storm, he sent out the text to cancel any plans in order for him to rest and feel better. 

Calum hadn't expected anyone to show up. He'd sent out a text message to his friends the night before that he was sick with a cold and that any birthday plans would have to be rescheduled. If he was being honest, hiding in bed covered with blankets and sipping tea out of a Chewbacca mug was a perfect way to spend his birthday. He hated the idea of growing older and was not looking forward to waking up hungover from partying. But Calum wasn't expecting his doorbell to ring at two in the afternoon on the day of his birthday. So he'd ignored it at first, hoping that whoever had been at his front door would get the hint and leave him alone. Leave him to be a year older by himself while a cold that left his nose stuffed and his throat sore stuck in bed. It wasn't until he heard the familiar tone of his security system pinging, telling him someone had opened the front door, that Calum sensed something was off. 

"Duke, please tell me your father isn't passed out in the shower or worse," her voice rang out from the living room, making Calum put down the book he had been reading and make his way out of the bedroom. 

"Sweet girl?" Calum asked confused, his dry throat making his voice crack a bit. 

"Calum," she mumbled, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at him. She had that addicting smile that Calum loved so much, the one Calum liked to think she only showed when she was truly happy. She was holding multiple things, something that seemed to comically in excess, gift bags, and brown paper bags, and a pink cardboard box had been set on the kitchen counter.

"Happy birthday!" she cheered as she set down everything on the counter, "I know you said you didn't want to celebrate since you weren't feeling good but...it's your birthday and I wanted to bring you some stuff to hopefully make you feel better," she mumbled as she walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. 

Calum watched as she walked around his kitchen, humming quietly to herself while she waited for the soup she'd brought for him to heat up on the stove. She'd been here since the afternoon, something Calum was more than grateful for, making sure that he'd been drinking enough water and that he was taking medicine to help with whatever cold had decided to hit him on his birthday. As the day went on, with birthday presents unwrapped and many pictures taken on the polaroid that she'd gotten him as one of her gifts. 

"A camera?" Calum had asked with a sniffle as he unwrapped the box with a pink bow on top of it.

"You always talk about wanting to capture more memories. I thought that maybe having polaroids would help with that. They're more concrete, not as easily forgotten like in your phone." she mumbled and smiled, taking another bite of the cake they'd both been sharing. 

"I love it." Calum nodded, "Take a picture with me?" he asked as he pulled the camera out of the box and started to set it up. 

Calum hadn't planned on kissing her. He hadn't planned on capturing the exact moment when he told her how he truly felt about her on a polaroid camera, but his heart was full of love for her and how she'd come over to celebrate his birthday with him even after he tried to kick her out to not get her sick. But Calum hadn't planned to kiss her when she sat next to him and held the polaroid camera up in front of them. 

"I love you, you know that?" Calum mumbled softly, his own eyes widening as he met her eyes. Before he knew it, his lips were on hers and a flash went off behind his closed eyelids. 

The kiss was soft, exactly like she was, soft and warm and everything Calum had needed. Her hand cupped one of his cheeks, pulling him closer as her eyes closed and she fell deeper into the kiss. Calum's arms wrapped around her waist and his forehead rested against hers as they both pulled away. They both let out a shaky breath, Calum's nose brushing against hers as they sat in each other's arms, eyes closed because they were both too afraid to open their eyes and find out that this was all just a fever dream.

"I...I love you." she whispered, finally breaking the silence and opening her eyes, "I always have loved you." she mumbled.

His tired eyes and red nose made a perfect picture, one she'd save not only in her phone but in her heart too. The small polaroids from that day were laying on the bedside table, reminding her of the sweet boy who was dozing off with his head on her chest. His soft breathing warmed her heart and she pressed a kiss onto the top of his curls, her arms tightening around Calum as she felt him start to drift off. 

"Thank you." Calum mumbled against her shoulder, "Made my birthday special, made me finally realize how much I love you." he whispered, letting out a soft yawn. 

"You deserved to have a beautiful birthday, Calum. Even if it was just laying in bed and eating way too much cake." she teased and pushed back his curls, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. "I'm glad you love me as much as I love you, birthday boy."

"Mhm, best birthday ever," he whispered, his eyes finally closing as the smile on his face fell and he finally drifted off to sleep on what was the best birthday ever. Maybe, just maybe, being twenty-five wasn't going to be as bad as he thought. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop