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horror-beeings-artandwriting · 1 month

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Dark choco cookie headcanons/backstory for my au

Quick thing: this is my AU! If ya don’t like the headcanons they aren’t about Canon DC they are just about my version of him, thanks for the understanding and enjoy the read!

AN/TWs: this will include, some doodles of him, OC x canon art, some gore(not graphic), scars, and in one he is just in boxers, not sexual just scar mapping, mention of just in general disturbing topics. read at your own risk, and please everyone, take care of yourselves you are loved never forget that!

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Firstly, Dark Choco cookie does not get his redemption arch, My version of dark choco isn't the best person per say. Unlike canon DC he's fine with that, he tried when he was younger to get rid of the sword, but slowly as he got older, he gave up and started to give into the Strawberry Jam sword. His backstory goes as such When he was younger(Young prince) He was the pride of the cacao kingdom, one of their most gifted worriers, he took interest in things that the others found odd or worrying, such as were every fatal point in the body was, or torture devices.

he was friends with Lady Rose Tea cookie, for many years, from the time he was 10 and she was 7 in the image above she was 18 he was 20. Choco was originally going to marry rose but the day before he got to see her again, he decided to go off and look for the Sca-strawberry jam sword. He has never forgiven himself for this. /silly The day of his fall, IE the day he picked up the sword went rather horribly(duh) Choco spent hours looking, he brought his own sword, but it was shattered almost instantly against the monsters protecting the temple the sword was put to rest in. Once Choco picked up the sword, lighting struck him setting fire to only half his body, leaving burn scars but also taking one of his eyes Pictured here.

Leaving him burned and bleeding, he ended up outside the temple and threw himself onto the snow, it stung and didn't help much, but enough to numb him for a while. he ended up limping back to the cacao kingdom, collapsing at the gate, the sword still gripped in his burned hand. cacao panicking brought his son inside the castle not caring about the sword, getting his best healers, a couple days later choco woke up, half his hair was charred, well half his body was. it hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, but then he started hearing whispers.

He tried to ignore them, and fell asleep. Then he woke up, in front of a bleeding Cacao, holding the sword he swore would save his kingdom...All he heard was "Leave, and never return." From his father, so he ran. He ended up discarding his armor from the cacao kingdom, after a few weeks, then he cut the rest of his hair. It still hurt to move. But he kept forward. Over the years he had started to give into the swords violent thoughts...no his violent thought. He ended up stealing some old armor from a museum. It worked well, and was made. Soon after he joined the cookies of darkness, he didn't really care about what dark enchantress does, or her cause. It let's him get out his violence in what he sees as a controlled environment. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Headcanon time!

Choco:

Choco keeps his hair short to stop himself from looking like cacao even more than he already does.

Him and sovereign are two different people, sovereign happens to be trapped in the sword and is sometimes able to possess choco.

He can open his eye but not normally , he has to use his hand to open it; and it is just a bloody socket. He has used this to scare the other cookies of darkness.

He used to idolize cacao now he, would rather be set ablaze again then be in the same room as him.

Choco doesn’t really talk to any of the cookies of darkness, other than poison mushroom cookie, who has started to treat him as an uncle. Choco doesn’t know how to handle this.

He’s a high ranking officer; basically a general of dark enchantresses army. (Mostly the cookie part of that army)

Choco is in his early 40s in this au. (He’s 42)

Choco doesn’t ever outright state his sexuality to in the au, he has only ever been attracted to rose. (Personally I see him as Demisexual, demiromantic and straight) he is literally the only straight member of the cookies of darkness.

He has known rose tea for about 30 years, they lost contact after he, know got cursed.

He has an interest into torture devices(one of his first hyper fixations) and swords.

Most of chocos scars aren’t from fighting but more due to dumb mistakes on his part, IE one time he ate if downs flight of stairs, and then slammed into a glass door, with his arm and cutting it open, he’s okay now.

Choco doesn’t really have any defined muscle, like looking at him outside of his armor he has a dad bod, but is freakishly strong because of the curse.

Speaking of the curse, it enhances a lot of things, mainly it made him really tall, (he’s almost 7ft tall now-) very strong, being able to lift almost 50x his body weight. And increasing his overall stamina and durability.

Canonically in the au, the armor he wears all the time, he stole it form a museum, it was an old piece of armor from one of the sovereign exhibits.(it wasn’t sovereigns armor thankfully-)

His fighting style is very different from most cacao worriers he’s, what would be to them, sloppy, since he can’t get hurt as easily he is more open to being very aggressive with his fighting style.

Sovereign:

Sovereigns armor has funnily enough, rose thorns embedded into them, due to him being a weirdo.(he wanted to see if he could still fight that way) this however doesn’t apply to when he possesses choco.

Sovereign heats up, fast, choco is a naturally warmer person, but sovereign is always around 3000c or 5432f(I’m American I just did both cuz idk if some people are European-) he can cool himself down, but only for a couple minutes.

Both choco and sovereign have sharp teeth, covering just smiles more so you see his teeth more.

Sovereign is also more likely to abuse the powers that the strawberry jam sword gave him and choco, Choco doesn’t really use to magic as much as sovereign does.

Sovereign has a lot more control over the curse then choco.

Sovereign insists upon praying to scarlet night cookie before every battle, this; Annoys choco.

Sovereign even though he is technically a ghost, is connected with chocos emotions, like he feels them but 100x worse, his guilts and regrets; his fears, his obsessions. Sovereign doesn’t really care about the regret and guilt since he’s insane, but the obsessions. *looks at rose* yeah….just yeah…

Sovereign is mainly able to possess choco when he is really stressed, or angry.

Scar headcanons!

He’s fine, they don’t hurt anymore.

And some extra doodles!:

Here is his beta design :)

Some blood rose stuff!

Some finally an explain my ship in 5 minutes!

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and thats all, my hands hurt. :\

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rosykims · 6 months

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my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.

Impatient as he is, he greets his uncle first. He’s the king, after all, and his advisors deserve at least the pretense of an attentive ruler.

Pleasantries are exchanged between them while his squire helps him out of his gaudy golden excuse for armor. Not unexpectedly, the elephant in the room goes undiscussed, as do the half dozen marriage proposals he's certain have piled up during his absence. After six years, Eamon knows better than to press him on that issue. Likely he'll try his luck in the morning, but tonight the wells of Alistair’s patience have been run thoroughly dry. It must read plainly on his face, given how bad he is at cards.

As the arl's debrief draws to a close, Alistair's eyes, for the tenth time in half as many minutes, dart towards the exit. Eamon sighs.

“Well, Your Grace,” he says, tactfully clearing his throat. “The hour is late indeed. I imagine you're weary from your travels?”

Alistair nods. “Oh, very weary. The weariest.”

It's not entirely a lie, but his uncle frowns nonetheless. “Then I won't keep you. Good night, Alistair.”

“You as well, Uncle.”

“I will see you in the morning for your small council meeting. Do try not to be . . . waylaid.”

Well. Hint received. Awkward. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he finally presses the door closed behind him.

Next up: a bath. It's sorely needed, after five weeks back and forth across the Waking Sea. His arrivals home are typically received without much ceremony, per his request, and so the palace is pleasantly quiet. A few saluting guards here, a scurrying servant or two there. It's for their benefit that he keeps his footfalls slow and measured, instead of breaking into the wild sprint down the hallway that he's aching for.

One of those servants must have drawn his bath for him already, he guesses, stepping into his chambers to find it warm and awaiting. He wonders if Teagan roused them from their beds for this, or if they've simply clued into his routine after so many years of it.

He forces himself to bathe slowly. For his own sake, but mostly for hers. The heat soaks into his bones, the grime and dust from the road melting off of him as if little more than a bad memory. He tries to enjoy it, despite his restlessness. And the excitement, Maker, like he's still twenty years old and the anticipation alone might just undo him. Or do him in.

He only hurries as he dries off, reaching for the fresh (and mercifully plain) clothes laid diligently aside for him. A part of him considers forgoing clothes entirely – palace denizens be damned. He wills himself to dress anyway, reluctantly. Quickly. It hasn't been that long since he last saw her, anyway, and they've gone far longer stretches before than this. Nonetheless, between Kirkwall's tyrannical templars and the lingering Qunari threat, he feels as if he hasn't held her in an age.

Clean and fully dressed, he frowns at his reflection. Older, harder, more weary. But happy, still, despite it all. Because of her. Her, waiting for him, just a few rooms away.

Naked, ideally.

He does away with all pretense and hightails down the hall, paying no mind to his kingsguard and their poorly suppressed grins. Smile away, Alistair thinks. I'll be smiling too, in a minute.

Her door is up ahead. And then before him. The handle is inches away from his outstretched hand. He hesitates.

How’s his breath? His hair? He should have shaved, should have put in a little more effort. Can she hear his creepy breathing behind the door? He fixes his clothes. Squares his shoulders. Knocks.

“Elles?”

A pause. Then, “Alistair?”

His heart tightens painfully in his chest. How he's missed that voice. If Ferelden could speak, it would do so through Elspeth Cousland. The strength of the Frostbacks in that voice of hers. The grim beauty of the Kocari Wilds. Rough like the Highever seas.

He can tell she’s been brooding before he’s so much as closed the door behind him. Not that he’s surprised — Maker, does the woman know how to brood. She shoots up quickly to her feet, straight and rigid like a soldier standing at attention. Not, mind you, like a Warden-Commander; at this moment Elspeth more closely resembles a clammy-handed recruit, next in line for her Joining. She’s nervous, that much is obvious, with her hands white knuckled and clasped together with uncertainty. From past experience, he’d wager anything she’s spent the last several days convincing herself he’s somehow fallen out of love with her in the time they’ve been apart.

And they say he’s the idiot.

Life’s too short to waste on “hello”’s, or “I’ve missed you”’s, or "I brought you a souvenir, but silly me, I accidentally dropped it overboard on the voyage back”. They’ve got less time together than most, after all. Crossing the distance between them is a blur; one moment he's at the door, the next he's hoisting her legs up around his waist, arms enveloping every part of her he can get his hands on, lips working relentlessly against her opened mouth. Whatever insecurities she'd tried to voice in the time it took him to wrap her up in his arms, he doesn't care to hear. He'd much rather focus on ridding her of those doubts entirely.

She gets the message — they've always been in sync like that. Her lips catch up with his, matching the hunger and resolve of his kiss. Her hands, calloused and smelling perpetually of iron, snake around his shoulders. The rest of her smells like roses; she must have come just recently from the garden he’d had built for her, the one place he specifically forbid her from moping in. He takes a moment to refamiliarize himself with her scent, lost in the feeling of her fingers tangled up in his hair, pulling him closer, ever closer, close enough to lose track of whose body belongs to who. And still it's not enough.

He needs her. Badly. She can probably feel as much, too. He carries her to the bed, laying her down amidst the pillows and furs. He finds within himself just enough self restraint to stand back for a long, brazen ogle. Maker, everything about her turns him on. Her freckles, her fingers, her breasts. Her long ashen hair in that ever-familiar braid. Storm gray eyes, pale pink lips. Her nose, one of his many favorite parts of her, set crooked after one too many fists to the face.

That perfect, powerful body of hers, hidden away under just a few thin, tearable layers of clothing . . .

She's way ahead of him, of course, because at this point they've got reunion sex down to an art. She casts off her Warden-blue tunic with only a button or two lost in the process, then grabs him by the front of his own shirt (red, naturally, with a tiny embroidered ‘I love you’ she'd stitched so sneakily behind the hem of his collar) and pulls him down on top of her once it's properly discarded. Their pants and various stubborn affects follow suit, until they’re both left blissfully bare and pawing feverishly at one another, limbs tangled and lips locked.

His fingers venture down the valley of her breasts, past her stomach to settle in between her legs. He smiles at what he finds, reassured by the proof that he’s not the only one so blatantly aroused. Her thighs part wider for him, hips lifting from the sheets to sooner meet his digits. She moans, perhaps less so from pleasure than the sheer relief of being touched — loved — for the first time in over a month. And he's right there with her. He sighs (or whines, if he's being honest) into the crook of her neck when her own hands find what they've been looking for, working him all too quickly into a frenzy.

She stops just as suddenly as she'd started, pushing at his chest until he relents and rolls over. She straddles his lap, grinding once, hard and agonizingly slow, for good measure. He moves to drape an arm over his face in some futile attempt to cool his burning cheeks, but she cruelly intercedes, pinning his wrists by either side of his head. He struggles playfully for a bit, laughing breathlessly. His hips buck autonomously at the sight of those strong, muscular arms holding him firmly in place.

They used to spar together, innocently, when they first met. How time flies.

He needs so, so desperately to fuck her. He has all night — all week, all year, all of the rest of their lives— to savor her body the way it's meant to be savored. To make sweet, tender, Chantry sanctioned love to her. But what he needs right now — what they both need, he recognises — is something desperate and ragged and mindless to the point of being no better than animals. The type of fucking that comes from a shared loneliness he's not certain anybody else has ever experienced before.

He's glad she doesn't give him too much time to dwell on that. Her hips rise just enough for the right angle, before guiding him slowly inside. They both sigh. Elspeth frees his trapped hands to splay her own out against his chest, steadying herself. Her nails dig into his skin as she sinks down onto him, inch by inch, although she's bitten them too short to do any real damage. Alistair fights to keep himself still inside her, waiting for her body to adjust, to give him the go ahead. An uphill battle, really. When he's fully sheathed inside of her she settles, save for the frantic contraction of her muscles around him, driving him to the brink of insanity.

“I dreamt about this every night I was gone,” he manages. “Maker, I love you, Elles. I love you so much.”

Her eyes go glassy and her bottom lip quivers. It's that old, familiar grief, the one he's never been able to fully free her from after those long, bleak months in the Deep Roads. But as he moves his hips carefully against hers and feels Elspeth moving back, he's confident he can coax it down again, at least for as little as tonight.

“I love you,” she eventually whispers back, and then begins to ride him in earnest.

Ten minutes blurs into one long wave of curling, cresting euphoria. Alistair groans brokenly. He feels absolutely deranged, delirious, gazing up at her while she takes him so completely. Sweat beads at her forehead, and a deep flush creeps from her chest up to her cheeks. His own face must be beet-red, too.

He's not going to last long, not with the angle she’s hitting and sounds coming out of her mouth. Though, taking those sounds into consideration, he suspects that she won't last much longer, either. They're both too keyed up to pace themselves and too jittery to try, so better to play it out in a wild crescendo. He grabs at her hips, lifting her up and back down onto him, coaxing out one hoarse plea after another. One hand releases its grip to run unfettered across her breasts, and she groans again, falling forwards onto his chest and wrapping herself around him as if she might never get a chance to again.

Once, a hundred lifetimes ago, his friend Zevran gave him some unsolicited advice about arching. He really hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but he does now, right in this moment, with the friction of this exact position to aid him in such an endeavor. She’s done in half a minute if he can keep her held firmly above him. He’s done, too. He doubles his efforts, recapturing her swollen lips and soon reaching with his tongue to greet the muffled cry when her pleasure finally peaks. Normally he would let her ride it out, but he’s rapidly approaching his own climax and his brain can focus on nothing but her gray, glazed over eyes, her hair in the candlelight, the frantic rise and fall of her chest as she writhes and bucks and bounces against him. Her muscles pulse and he feels himself twitching inside of her in response.

He’s so close, at the precipice, suspended in mid air, floating . . . And then she tightens around him once more and he finishes inside of her with one long, obscene moan that vibrates through the room and every part of his utterly spent body.

They’re going to get so many looks from the guards come morning.

His every muscle sings with bliss. Their bodies grow slack and boneless together and their movements slow to lazy, drawn out rolls of the hips. He holds her, one hand rubbing her naked back and the other cradling her head as they find their breaths again, together, in the most comfortable of silences. He counts her exhales, and in the afterglow of their efforts he finds himself blinking back tears. Returning to Ferelden, to Denerim, to the palace itself . . . none of it had felt like coming home until this very moment, enveloped in one another, reacquainted at last with the sound of each other’s breathlessness.

He hates it when she rolls up and off of him, but he’s a grown up, apparently, so instead of whining about it he begrudgingly rises from the bed long enough to grab the nearest clean cloth. Then he’s right back in bed with her, his hand returning between her legs to wipe her down, followed by a cursory clean up of himself. She lets out her now thoroughly dishevelled braid while she watches him, not smiling as he’d hoped, but warm and tender nonetheless. Her fingers trace slow and deliberately along the curve of his bicep, frowning at the jagged scar she knows still gives him trouble in the colder months. He makes a mental note to get at least a half dozen laughs out of her before the night is through, just to keep that damned frown of hers at bay.

He offers her a worldless arm when he’s done tidying them both up, and he’s rewarded with a smile, sweet and sheepish, as she moves to snuggle into it. He pulls her close to pepper the top of her head with kisses, humming contentedly in the quiet.

“Marry me,” he says eventually.

Elspeth tenses, and then sighs. “You’re never going to give this up, are you?”

“Ha! Of course I will. The second you say ‘Yes! Yes! Oh, Alistair! One thousand times yes!’”

“I don’t sound like that. Also, do I have to say it a thousand times, or just the once?”

“Well . . . a couple times couldn’t hurt, right?”

And there it is: her first, exasperated chuckle of the night. Winning that laughter means more to him than every battle he’s ever come out of victorious.

“You know I can’t, Ali.” Her laughter fades back into her usual grimness as she runs her palm across his chest, charting routes in the space between his freckles. She places a kiss above his heart, likely in the hopes of avoiding his eye. “We’ve broken too many rules as it is, and I won’t be the cause for yet more unrest in Thedas. I bear responsibility for enough of that already. Besides, I can’t just abandon my men. The Wardens need me.”

“I need you.” He scoffs as an afterthought. “And the Gray Wardens have Nathaniel, as much as it just kills me to credit that man with anything. But hey! Who said anything about giving them up? A king can be a general. I’m living proof he can be a court jester, too. Why can’t a queen be Warden-Commander?”

She ignores his quip, despite it being a really good one. “Because I don’t know how to be a queen.” She shakes her head hopelessly. “I barely know how to be a person most days. Maybe . . . maybe I could have done it, once, but now, after everything —”

Better to stop this now before it turns into another one of her signature doom spirals. “Every Arl and Bann in the Coastlands calls you queen already, did you know that?” He grins, having anticipated the eyeroll. Of course she knows that, given how much her fellow Gray Wardens love to gossip. And tease. “The nobles have long been made aware that I won't accept anybody else by my side. And, Maker, it’s not like they would accept anybody else! ‘None but the Cousland Queen’ — that’s what they say about you. I know that because half of the bannorn have told me. To my face.”

Some small, dignified part of her — the part that still relishes being a highborn noble — stirs. Her eyes glint with cautious intrigue. “Bann Ceorlic?” she asks.

Alistair clears his throat. “Well, not him.”

“Hmph.”

“Marry me,” he says again. “Don’t you want to?”

“You know I want to,” she says, “but —”

“— Any excuse you give me will just go in one ear and out the other. Isn’t that just so classically me? Hey, here’s a crazy idea. Let’s get maaaa-rried!”

“You’re just getting funnier and funnier in your old age, aren’t you?”

“And you’re getting grumpier.”

He takes her face in both hands before she can deny it, kissing her slow and soft and with all of the comfort he knows she secretly needs right now, and likely always will. Now that he’s home - truly home - he can give her as much of that as she can stand, and then some. Tomorrow’s small council meeting be damned. “Marry me, Elles.”

She blinks up at him, searching his eyes for any sign he might one day get tired of waiting. She can find a lot in his eyes (he is really, really terrible at cards) but she’ll never find that.

“Can I at least ask you how your trip went, first?” she asks finally, softened by the crack of a tiny, rueful smile.

“Ugh.” How could he forget? “Right. That little thing. It -”

Alistair blinks, Kirkwall forgotten again just as soon as he’d remembered it. “That’s . . . not a ‘no’, by the way,” he says, dumbfounded.

Elspeth settles in closer against him, her leg wrapped around his, her ear pressed in snug at his shoulder. He knows she’s listening for his heartbeat, the thump-thump-thump she’d do anything - everything - for. He knows she put him on the throne to keep that heartbeat going for a few years more, and he knows that’s why it’s so hard for her to give up the endless fight for it now.

He knows. It doesn’t mean he thinks she’s right.

She looks up at him only after she’s satisfied that his heart isn’t about to cease functioning in his chest. Her hand reaches out to smooth down the errant hairs around his ears, and she opens her mouth several times to reply before pursuing them together in frustration. Then - finally, bashfully - she nods.

“No,” she admits softly. “I mean, it’s not. It’s . . . it’s not a no.”

‘It’s not a no’. Well, he’s certainly done more with less.

#dragon age origins #dao #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #oc: elspeth #mine: writing #we are so fucking back babey #considering i havent posted my writing in like. over an entire year at best. i did somewhat pop off with this one <3 #elle is so miserable all the time except when alistair pranks her into experiencing joy and i hope that shines through if nothing else <3 #ALSO TY MAIA FOR THE PEP TALK BEFORE POSTING THIS I LOVE U .

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nyacchiiatos · 17 days

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since i revived my IG account why not revive this one too!! art dump time ft. my favorite early 2024 pieces

i'll try to post art more regularly here like before 😭 life has been crazy

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 month

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ATTENTION CITIZENS OF QUEENIE TOWN

I am proud to announce that I'm finally working on some fics I've been promising but I also have a little surprise

queenies not that good at art but here's a character I have for one of my upcoming fics;

Blackwood academy

She's still not colored and as you can see, I need to practice making front facing profiles more...

I don't like how I made her lips too close to her chin and her nose so low

#begginer artist #artists on tumblr #traditional art #queenie ocs #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere #Chloe j. Skylar #The shining star 🌟#Blackwood academy #Female yandere #Yandere girl #queenie art

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gomzdrawfr · 2 months

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Everything but you

this is only the art section of this fic! if you want more context or interested to read then go ahead :3

cw: angst ahoy

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concreteburialplot · 10 months

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VIRALITY // 08

08 - Play Along

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc / nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

word count: 5.3k

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

warnings; irritating moody noah lol, angry/jealous nicholas, alcohol, noah teaching how to play pool, creepy guy at bar, implied past SA experiences, physical fight, blood, love triangle a brewin', 18+ ONLY MDNI

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

Noah somehow convinced me to drive us to a bar down the street from the warehouse where we were brainstorming with Bryan.

“So, remind me why you couldn’t have just driven here yourself?” I asked, looking over at him in the passenger seat of my rental car.

“I don’t have a car.” He replies flatly.

“You’re a world famous rockstar, and you don’t have a car?”

I hadn’t notice just how tattooed his hands are until I catch them moving up and down his thighs. The small action reminds me of ways I soothe my anxiety, especially in stressful work meetings.

“Not ‘world famous’, nobody even knew who we were til last month.” He’s quick to correct me and his grumpy tone makes it transparent that he’s still annoyed about getting kicked out by Bryan.

“Right.” I reply shortly.

I pull up to the small seedy bar Noah directed me to. It’s nestled within a larger strip of restaurants and shops. The random tiny city we’re in is not nearly as busy as LA and the buildings are all rustic and brick.

I’m not even parked a whole minute before Noah has already slammed his door behind him and headed towards the front door. At this point I should just expect to have to babysit every single grown man in this fucking band.

When I walk into the establishment, I’m smacked in the face by thick cigarette smoke and my face twists in disgust. It’s packed for 2pm on a Tuesday and almost every single patron is accompanied by a lit cigarette. I spot Noah at the bar already, just receiving his first full beer.

“A cosmopolitan please.” The words can’t come out fast enough, I need alcohol more than air itself right now. The bartender nods and starts curating my order.

Noah scoffs, “A cosmopolitan really? Could you get any more pretentious?”

“Oh my god.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Could you just shut up for literally like 5 minutes?” Right on cue the bartender places down a stemless martini glass with transparent red liquid. “At least it’s better that some basic ass beer.” I take a long sip of my ice-cold drink and alleviation begins the moment the alcohol meets my tongue.

He finishes the last of his beer and lands it hard on the wooden tabletop. “Fine. Whiskey and Coke please.”

“What is your deal huh, why are we here? What exactly are we doing?” I ask the obvious, finishing my own drink already and gesturing to the bartender for another.

He lifts his new glass, “You’re looking at it, Thornhill.”

My brows immediately scrunch together, “How do you know my last name?”

“You think you’re the only one who does their homework?” He asks ironically. “You do work with us after all.”

Both of our new drinks are halfway gone already with replacements on the way. Getting plastered midday on a Tuesday with my most infuriating client in some hole in the wall California bar was not on my bingo card for the week. But these boys keep surprising me, it’s almost refreshing. Almost.

Noah is quick to get started on the fresh drink in front of him, maybe too fast. The glass hadn’t even hit the table before it was half gone.

The numbing already growing in my fingers reminds me that all I had for breakfast was a green juice. Noah’s eyes travel over the bar and land on something across the room then back on me. His eyes are mischievous and playful, “You know how to play pool?” His lips spread into a competitive smirk.

I raise my brows at him. The man that was just 30 minutes ago arguing with me about music video lighting now wants to play pool?

“You want to play pool… right now?”

He laughs, which makes me realize I’d never heard him laugh. It’s nice. If I wasn’t already so exhausted by his bullshit already, it might’ve even made me smile.

“So, you don’t know how to play is what you’re telling me.” He slips off the stool and grabs my arm dragging me off my own.

“Hey, hey!” I smack his hand off my burgundy blazer, “This is designer, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get your bourbon-y fingers all over it.”

His eyes roll so hard I think they might fall out. “Oh, so sorry princess.” He raised his hands up in defense. “Wouldn’t want to get your Prada dirty.”

While derogatory, the nickname makes my cheeks heat up but I’m not quite sure why. “It’s YSL actually.” I correct him, not that it matters but I guess when you pay almost $4000 for a jacket, it seems like it matters.

“See? Pretentious.” He points at me before going over to the table to set up the game.

I brought our drinks and my bag over to a wooden chair just behind the tables so I could keep a close eye on them. I decide that between the weak airflow in the bar and the sticky surfaces that it would be best to shed the jacket. I slip it off my arms and immediately remember that the blazer was essential to the look, since I only have a black lace corset underneath. But with the 4? 5? drinks I’ve had, I don’t care right now.

“Okay so since you don’t know how to-” Noah turns to look at me and seems to forget his words, he just blinks at me with a deer-in-headlights look.

I step closer to him, “Ya know, it’s not polite to stare.” I say in a hushed tone and poke his pointy nose. Whether or not he is actually looking at me like that, doesn’t matter, my confidence is boosted regardless. Surviving in an industry like the one we’re means walking a fine line between power and control. Men are easy to control when you know how to use assets correctly. And right now, he’s looking at the assets on my lace-covered chest.

“What were you saying again?” I ask, putting my weight on my palms at the edge of the table and leaning forward.

He clears his throat and diverts his eyes away from my cleavage. He directs me to a triangle filled with variously colored balls, some solid, some striped and all with numbers on them. “So basically, you want to get all your designated balls into the holes.” He hands me a long stick, “This is a cue, this is what you’ll use.”

“Got it.”

He perks up a brow above an eye, “You’ve really never played before?”

“Nope.” I take a sip of my potent drink without breaking eye contact with him. “Never thought I’d like it. I’ve watched exes play though. Seemed lame.” I say, sounding more apathetic than I actually am.

“Alright well,” He tugs at the hem of his long band shirt, “You might like it.” He knocks back the last of his drink and holds out a hand to me, “You want a refill?”

I drink the last bit of my own, letting the ice slide down the glass and sit on my numbing lips for just a second before handing it to him. “Please, thank you.”

The minute he leaves me, I become very aware that I’m the only female in the dark bar and every set of eyes is on me. I cross my arms over my chest and retract into myself.

Not long after Noah returns, we start playing. He explained how he “broke” the triangle and he ended up being solids which meant that I’m stripes. After a very bad attempt at hitting a ball, he decided I wasn’t doing well.

“No, no, no.” He waves me off before my stick touches the white cue ball. “Here, I can help.” He rounds the table and stands behind me. I obviously knew he was taller than me, but it isn’t until just now that I realize just how much taller he is than me – the top of my head barely meets his shoulders. And the boots I’m wearing have heels, making me even taller than normal. His sizeable hand runs down my spine and hooks it around my hip to readjust my position. His other arm goes to help adjust my arm that’s holding the stick. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, but my skin is burning anywhere he’s touching me and the way his hand engulfs my hip completely sends a buzzing between my legs. His fingertips are mere centimeters away from my core and I am extremely aware of it.

“See, not so bad.” He smiles, pulling away from me and it’s only then that I notice he actually helped me hit the ball.

My eyes linger on him longer than they should’ve. It must be this dim bar lighting and the copious alcohol I’ve had that is making see him through a new filter. His smile meets his eyes and he’s just so…bright. His chocolate eyes are so welcoming and kind, a stark contrast to how harsh and cold they are normally. He’s so much more attractive when he’s not scowling at everything I say.

“What?” He wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do I have something on my face or something?”

“No, no.” I shake the thoughts from my head. “I just don’t think I’ve ever really seen you smile.” I blurt out stupidly. “It’s pretty.”

He rolls his eyes walking over to the other edge, “Shut up.”

“What?” I ask walking over to where he’s lining up his cue to the ball. His tongue his tightly held in thought between his lips.

The cue ball clashes into a grouping and sends balls flying across the table, some landing in holes. “You’re still on your boyband bullshit.” His voice gained his usual attitude once again with a bit of drunken slur.

“What?” I shake my head, “No, no. I’m not talking about that.” I chase after him around the table. “I mean it.”

Though I should’ve taken the excuse he provided himself as to why I was even paying attention to his smile in the first place.

The long-haired boy holds his cue stick like staff looking at me with an unconvinced look. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Vallie.” He says in a deep gravelly voice that almost sounds like a threat.

My eyes widen slightly when I look up at him. “I meant it.” I repeat softly, this time with a somewhat intimidated undertone.

He eyes me beneath a skeptical propped brow like I just told him something completely out of the realm of possibility. “Let’s just get back to playing.” He grumbles and walks over to finish off drink.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Similar to Nicholas, Noah also has a sort of whiplash duality, just different. I see tiny peeks of a sunshine-y Noah hidden beneath his grouchy storm-cloud persona. It makes me wonder what it would take to see more of the Noah that was just joking and smiling with me.

After another round or two and various refills later, I’m winning. Again.

“How are you winning when you just learned how to play?” Noah asks, pushing himself off the pool table. “Are you conning me or something?” His voice now has a thick, noticeable slur to it, but I don’t think much of it.

I giggle, “No. I just like to win.”

He scoffs playfully and grabs his own glass with my empty one. “You sure you don’t want another?”

I bite down on my thumbnail thinking, but ultimately refuse. “Nah I’m good for now.” I’ve hit the fine line of if I have another, I could get sloppy. Sloppy mixed with what I felt earlier with his hand on my hip could get me in trouble.

He nods and heads to the bar. I pull my phone from where I tucked it in the waistband of skirt and rest against the table as I scroll through emails I’d missed. Suddenly, I feel a presence that definitely isn’t Noah’s. It’s larger, meaner, and darker.

“That your boyfriend with you darlin?” Speaks a low southern accent. His words seem harmless, but I can tell by his tone that he’s not.

My eyes rise to meet him, he towers over me about as tall as Noah maybe an inch or two more. He might be as tall as Noah, but he’s about double his size, wide and muscular. His face is angular and sharp, adorned with middle-aged wrinkles. My gaze glances down to notice that he’s holding two drinks, one that looks like the one I’ve been drinking all day.

I keep an arm around my waist, my phone open facing me and prop a brow at him. “Maybe. What’s it to you?” I neither confirm nor deny out of caution.

“Well, I was thinkin’ you could have a drink with me.” He holds out the similar-looking drink. “The bartender told me you’ve been drinking cosmopolitans.”

I analyze the martini glass within a quarter of a second – the red liquid is dull, murky and the ice is bobbing at the bottom. I’ve lived alone in big cities long enough to know not to take drinks from strange men, especially when they look suspicious. I’ve dated enough men to know what this familiar uneasy feeling in my stomach means. My thumb maneuvers slowly and discreetly to my camera app and hit record. I would send my location to someone, if I had someone to send it to.

I smile politely, “I’m okay but thank you.”

As I predicted his energy shifts and he steps towards me, “Oh c’mon pretty girl, it’s not very nice to refuse a free drink.”

The fear coiling around my spine forces me to fake a laugh, “I’ve really had enough, but thank you.”

He steps even closer backing me into the pool table, the curved wooden corner digs into my lower back. The bar is so busy that nobody is taking notice of what he’s doing.

“I don’t think you heard me, it’s not nice to refuse a free drink.” He says lowly within the small space between us. “We could just play a round of pool and have a good time.”

The walls begin to cave in on me and air is vacating my lungs. I’m paralyzed, panicking and my heart is racing so fast I fear it may tear through my ribcage.

From the moment he was just near me I knew, I just knew.

I always know.

“I’m just not interested, I’m sorry.” The words slip from me quickly and I brace for verbal impact.

He bridges the little gap that’s left between us and sets each drink at each side of my hips, caging me in with my arms wrapped around my body and my phone still recording. “You think you’re better off with that toothpick of a date you have?” He hisses.

Right on cue Noah returns, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I must’ve really been working off survival muscle memory because I had completely forgotten Noah was with me until just now.

The mystery man pulls back from me with the biggest bullshit smile on his harsh face. “Oh, I was just offerin’ your friend here a drink.” He raises the drink to him.

I chuckle nervously and wave him away, “It’s alright Noah, it’s fine, he was just being nice.” I scratch my arm anxiously. I want the interaction to be over and I’m not expecting Noah to defend me, he barely likes me as a person.

“No Vallie, I saw him.” He sets down his beer and points a finger at him. “You were being fucking creepy.” His drunken voice is rising, and I’m scared that it’s only going to make the situation worse.

The man chuckles at Noah like he’s a puppy barking at mountain lion. “What is this your girlfriend or something?” He asks as though that it’s something he hadn’t already suspected.

Noah briefly glances at me then back at him, “Yes, as a matter a fact she is.” He states assertively but his poker face isn’t that good. I’m surprised that he’s even gone this far to defend me but I’m appreciative.

He laughs even harder, “Oh you really expect me to think a girly twig like you can pull a girl like her?”

Noah doesn’t skip a beat, “You think a meathead asshole like you could pull a woman like her?”

While Noah is scrawny compared to this traditionally “macho man”, I think that was the manliest thing I’ve ever seen a man do for me.

However, it is painfully clear how drunk Noah is by the way he chooses to get in this huge man’s face.

“You’d better fucking watch it, Toothpick.” He growls in his face, then breaks eye contact with Noah to look over at me. “This pathetic joke of a man is your boyfriend?”

Noah doesn’t waver, doesn’t back down with tight fists at his sides but I can’t take it anymore. I may not get along with him, but he doesn’t deserve to be insulted like this on my behalf.

“Yes.” I say confidently with a straightened back, even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Yes, actually, he is. And I’ll prove it.”

I instantly realize that I have no idea how exactly to prove it. So, I go with the first thing I think of within a split second.

I give Noah a brief look that says play along – though, I’m not sure he had enough time to understand the message because when I stand on my tippy toes, take his face in my hands, and land my lips into his, he freezes.

It feels like time freezes too as my eyes flutter closed and I melt into the kiss. Drunk in this shady bar, in this shitty scary situation, right now, it feels like it’s just me and Noah. In this moment, with our lips locked, the bar is quiet, everything is calm, and it feels really fucking good to win at pool. I can’t tell if the swirling in my tummy is from the panic or from something else entirely.

When I finally pull from him, my brows can’t help but furrow together in confusion. He looks back at me with a similar expression – though it’s hard to really decipher any real reactions in his glazed over eyes.

What the fuck was that?

The asshole is visibly over the charade. “What the fuck ever. Maybe next time you shouldn’t let your slut of a girlfriend leave the house looking like a whore.”

Before I even have time to process what he just said, Noah’s fist swings and crashes into Mystery Man’s face.

“Oh my god.” I gasp and bring a hand over to cover my mouth in shock.

It takes a second for the muscular man to react, his hand immediately going to his now bleeding nose. He doesn’t fully realize his condition until he holds out his fingers covered in blood.

His mean eyes then land on Noah like he’s a bullseye target. “You little fucking shit.” The man charges at him and in the blink of an eye, he’s on top of Noah on the ground just pummeling into his face.

“Noah!” I run over to him, not really knowing exactly what I could do.

Luckily, we’d already garnered the attention of the whole bar, so other similar sized patrons were able to pull the man off Noah before he had time to do worse damage. They drag him to the opposite corner of the bar and they fade into the background with my focus now being on Noah.

“Fuck Noah.” I mutter as I land on my knees near his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I stammer frantically looking around at what I could use to help him. The workers near us must’ve read my mind because they brought over a huge stack of napkins. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He says nothing and flutters his glossy eyes closed when I start to clean him up. He winces when I dab the blood gushing from his nose. “I’m sorry.” I repeat breathlessly, trying my hardest to keep a panic attack away. He flinches a bit when I try to gently wipe his busted lip. “Sorry.” I repeat again, because what else am I supposed to say to someone who just got beaten up because of me. I don’t dare go near his already swollen eye until I get access to some ice… or maybe some frozen peas.

“Should I call Nicholas? Or Jolly?” I ask meekly, folding the napkin within my hands.

Noah groans. “Nicholas.” He brings his hand to his forehead. “Don’t call Jolly. He’ll kill us.”

There’s something about that word in that statement. I can’t explain it, but it seems so much bigger than just Noah and I.

Before he finishes his statement, I’ve already texted Nicholas. I’m surprised at how quickly he responded and even more surprised when he says that he’s not even 5 minutes away.

“Nicholas is here? He said he’s visiting a friend at a tattoo shop in this strip.”

“How convenient.” He grumbles sarcastically and uses his hand to cover his eyes.

When I return my gaze to him, I notice his bloody and bruising knuckles. “Oh my god your hand!” I gasp and take his hand in mine. I urgently steal the condensation off a nearby beer glass to wet a clean napkin and use it to delicately clean each knuckle. An overwhelming sense of guilt fills my chest, and another even worse feeling wraps itself around my throat with thorns. My heartbeat begins thumping so hard I can hear it in my ears and I’m trying my hardest to steady my now trembling hands.

He peeks an eye at me while keeping the other scrunched closed. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft with an inflection reminiscent of concern.

My eyes begin to burn the minute he acknowledges my panic and only makes everything worse. I focus intently on where the napkin is meeting his skin. “Mhm.” I know the moment I open my mouth to speak any semblance of emotional control would disappear. I discreetly attempt to stabilize my breathing so that it might tether me back to earth.

“Hey,” His brows knit together and lifts himself up onto his elbows. I never let go of his hand. His other hand finds my chin and gently redirects my gaze to him. “What’s wrong?”

My eyes fill with tears but immediately screw shut in a last-ditch effort to keep my composure. I rarely cry and even more seldom do I cry in front of others. And here am I, about to cry in front of the person I least want to.

The lump in my throat is painful and I try to swallow it down in an attempt to keep my tears at bay. “I’m fine, just let me keep cleaning you up.” My cracking voice gives away just how close I am to unraveling. A tear escapes me and I’m quick to wipe it off with the back of my hand.

He sternly but gently grasps my wrist to stop me from continuing. “I’m not letting you keep going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know… a panic attack maybe?” A couple more tears escape, and I swiftly wipe them away. “You don’t deserve this, this is all my fault.” My eyes fall back down to his bloody hand in my own. “You look like this, because of me.”

He sits up more, analyzing. I can feel him dissecting me – even though we’re both drunk, it feels like he can see right through me. “I think it’s more than that Val. What’s up?”

That’s the first time I’ve heard my name come out of his mouth without some sort of insult attached to it. It sounds nice. I wouldn’t mind hearing it that way again.

My breathing is slowing down marginally, and I choose to ignore that his touch might have something to do with it. Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with it, right?

I take a deep inhale in preparation to speak without crying. I hold his bruised hand carefully with both of mine. I keep my attention on my thumb that is grazing across the black ink on his fingers. “Um.” I press my lips together and take another breath through my nose. He gives me my time, doesn’t rush or interrupt. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I hear my own voice crack and it feels like I’m somehow betraying myself by crying. “But, it’s not the first time something like…that has happened.” I blink some tears from my eyes and still focus on his hand. My voice is small and quiet, not the way I ever like to hear it. “It’s not even the second or third. And they’ve all been so much worse.” I let out a sad, sobby chuckle. “Which is why me crying about this is so fucking stupid because this was nothing. Worse things happen to people all the time and this was just some guy being a creep and–“

“Hey,” He rests his free hand on top of my own that were fidgeting more than I’d realized. “It wasn’t nothing. It was something. Something worth getting in a fight for. Okay?”

“It just shouldn’t be this upset over something so small.” My voice is not even a whisper. “It’s my fault.”

Weak

Is the only thing that is repeating in my head over and over.

I could’ve gotten myself out of the situation sooner.

I shouldn’t have frozen up.

I should’ve just taken the drink.

It didn’t have to escalate to that point.

I could’ve handled it on my own.

I shouldn’t be crying.

I was weak.

I am weak.

Weak.

He sits up and takes my chin into his fingers, titling my face up to meet his. The growing swelling all over his face only makes me feel worse. “You’re not stupid and it’s not your fault.” I know he’s trying to keep it together for me, but I can tell he’s struggling to form and deliver coherent sentences. “I don’t need to know any of the other instances to know that you were never stupid or that anything was your fault. Okay?”

I nod but it’s not enough for him. “I need to hear it.” The look in his chocolate eyes is one I haven’t seen in him before. Even behind his drunken daze and black eye, his eyes are genuine, kind, and concerned. A warmth blooms in my chest – it reminds me of when you’re running from the rain, and you rush into the safety of your car. That feeling of reaching a warm, safe place, that’s what I feel.

“Okay.” I reply quietly. “Thank you.”

While Noah is mere inches away from my face with his hand on my cheek, I hear a familiar voice. “What the fuck.” States an already irritated Nicholas.

Our eyes snap up at him and Noah instantly pulls away as if he has something to hide. Nicholas’ eyes shift between us, seemingly trying to decide which to address first.

“What the fuck did you do Noah.” His tone is immediately defensive.

Noah sloppily falls back onto the floor. His eyes go back to focusing on the ceiling. With Nicholas here, he looks unimpressed, maybe aggravated – definitely aggravated. For the person he told me to call, he seems quite unhappy that he’s here.

“No, no, it’s my fault.” I stop him before he continues to blame Noah. “He was protecting me.” I lower my voice into a whisper for the second half, “He helped me.”

“Bull fucking shit.” He sighs then the crouches down to inspect Noah further. He carefully pushes some bloody hairs away from his face, Nicholas’ touch on him is gentler than even mine. He gets a clear view of Noah’s face, it’s adorned with a black eye, a bruised nose covered in dried blood and a gashed open bottom lip.

“Do you think he’ll have to get that stitched up?” I bring up my thumb and chew on a freshly manicured nail.

He tugs at the injured boy’s lip looking at it closer, “No he’s fucking fine.”

While Nicholas is visibly angry, he seems oddly calm, at least calmer that I expected. I suppose it makes sense though, I’m sure this isn’t his first rodeo with a drunken Noah in a bar fight.

He lets go of his lip letting it harshly snap back into place earning a whine from Noah. “Hey!”

Nicholas stands up straight and offers me a hand to get myself up. Once I’m up in front of him, he gives me a once over, probably questioning my outfit of a lace corset and a skirt. “What were you guys doing here?” He questions angrily and closes a bit of the space between us.

“It’s a long story.” Between the alcohol, the fight, and my fading panic attack, I don’t have the energy to go through it all. He goes to argue with me, and I shut him down, mirroring his low grumbly voice. “I’ll explain later.”

His thick brows fall straight, evidently not liking my answer. He takes a moment, as if he’s trying to decide on the next thing to say without pissing me off. “He could’ve gotten you hurt. He could’ve hurt you.”

I scrunch my brows up at him. Sure, I’ve seen Noah storm out of numerous doors, and I saw him get a little abrasive with Bryan earlier, but would he actually hurt someone? Would he have hurt me?

“He didn’t, Nicholas.” I place my hand softly on his chest in an effort to calm him down. “Believe it or not… he saved me.” The sentence surprises even me as I say it.

Skepticism plasters itself across his face. “Saved you from what exactly?”

My eyes flutter to the ground and the same panicky feeling from before spins behind my ribcage. “It doesn’t matter.” I wave away the technicalities. “Point is, he didn’t do anything wrong. You should let up on him.”

He gives me a you’ve-gotta-be-shitting-me look.

The man from before – which I learned from the guys that pulled him away earlier, that his name was Mike – is being escorted out of the bar by two men who look like security guards.

“Oh, so you didn’t just need one scrawny bitch you needed two?” He practically spits at me while wiggling beneath the guard’s grip.

“Excuse me?” Nicholas snaps immediately turning to narrow his eyes at the man.

He laughs, “This one’s even more pathetic.”

I’m not sure why that, out of everything, fills me with the most rage of all. Anger spreads through me like electricity and every cell in my body propels me towards him.

An arm hooks around my waist and recoils me backwards before my fists can reach his body. Even though Nicholas is shorter than Noah, he still towers over me, and I must look tiny in his arms.

Mike mocks me while the guards try to urge him towards the door.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t fucking talk about them like that!” I struggle trying to escape from Nick’s surprisingly strong arms.

“Hey, hey calm down,” Nicholas hushes me with a little chuckle. “I got you.” His hand gives my side a reassuring little squeeze. “It’s okay.”

Once Mike is completely out of the bar a heavy weight is lifted from my chest and I can finally breathe again. Whether on purpose or by chance, Nicholas’ arm is still wrapped around me, but I don’t mind it. His warmth is comfortable against the frigid air of the bar. It feels nice, like a shelter.

Only then does it occur to me that any sort of panic or fear I was feeling before was soothed by him. In his arms I feel safe, and it reminds me of the way I felt with Noah earlier.

“C’mon asshole,” Nicholas snaps at Noah who’s looking half dead, still laying on the ground.

Noah covers his mouth and squeezes his eyes closed, “I’m gonna need a fucking trashcan.”

“Enough with the dramatics.” Nicholas rolls his eyes, and I can practically feel the impatience and aggravation radiating from his body. “Get the fuck up so I can get us home.”

There is that word again: us.

Us.

It’s a just small detail of wording but for whatever reason, I cling onto it like it means something.

Maybe my time with them won’t be as fleeting as I thought it would be.

next chapter -> 09 - Lavender Haze

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: The love for this story has honestly been so overwhelming (in a good way obv) and I couldn't be more grateful. I really thought this would flop lol so, thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to asks but i still love them 😅 i'm so sorry)

ALSO! Thank you so much for the love on my new series, Intertwined 💗 New chapter coming soon! 💗

#i s2g i’ve edited this so many time i can’t even look at it anymore #so here have it already 😭#cheers to this being the longest chapter of the series so far 🥂#i feel like vallie’s personality really shines through in this one #concreteburialplot works #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #nicholas ruffilo x oc #bad omens x oc #virality series

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stardustbee · 8 months

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Stardust made to shine Cover Art by @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

Darth Maul x fem!Jedi OC Ayane Arinori

This is the cover art for my canon fanfiction 'Stardust made to shine'

We see Ayane and Maul sharing a pretty sweet moment while Ayane holds the cyber crystal she will later use for her lightsaber. Maul holds a pendent that shows a little shell that was a gift from Ayane. The both get surrounded by parts of their lightsabers.

I am more then grateful for this wonderful piece and I have no words to describe how much I enjoyed working together with @the-chains-are-the-easy-part !!! Consider getting a comission yourself or at least share the post, so maybe you can reach some who can!

Chains Comission Infos ♡

Little close up of those beautiful people under the cut 🥰

Taglist, let me know if you want to be added!

@eloquentmoon @elledjarin @justalittletomato @oh-three @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @pixiestookourstardust @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @marivenah @dukeoftheblackstar @rogue-kenobi @agirlunderarock @bacarasbabe @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

#star wars #darth maul #maul #star wars oc #fly me to the moon #maul x oc #ayane arinori #darth maul x oc #stardust made to shine #stardustbee #the chains are the easy part #comission

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brittle-doughie · 1 year

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Star of the Industry (Popping Candy, DJ, Rockstar, Parfait, and Shining Glitter Cookie)

Requested by: 🧁 anon. Sorry for the wait, but here it is at last! Quite a lot of musical cookies!

“Ladies and gentlemen, Star Jelly Records would like you to put your hands together for the one and only, Y/N Cookie!”

The crowd roared and cheered as you came up onto the stage, outfit and mic at the ready. You tipped your head in confidence as you began to sing.

Running out the oven, we are never turning back. We will not be the witch’s crispy, crunchy snacks!

You danced as good as you sang, making finger guns towards the audience, with the cookie at the receiving end fainting in their fanboyism/fangirlism.

Security cookies had to deal with fans trying to leap over the railings to get closer to you, some had to work hard to get hired this job and it showed with how much they pushed back against the crowd, they were determined to keep you safe.

Be the way you want to be, for all of those to see…

The crowd erupted into cheering as you dropped the mic…into your other hand because microphone were delicate things, why drop it on the ground, hehe.

————————————————————————

You were making your way to your vehicle, security covering you as you walked, your personal agent, Dumpling Cookie, walking right beside you as she too cleared your way of the boisterous crowd.

“Clear the way, cookies. Y/N Cookie has a lot of places to be! HEY! You keep your hands off their hair!”

She smacked the offending cookie on the head with her notebook.

Like with your security detail, Dumpling Cookie had to work real hard to get the role as your agent and vowed to be the best there was. Really only soft spoken and considerate to you, she was cold and professional with others.

She will not tolerate anyone taking advantage of you and will put her foot down towards devious contracts these big shot studios were giving you, with Star Jelly Records being one of few that she was willing to settle with.

You two made to your vehicle as security escorted you both in, with them following after as you drove off.

“You were unbelievable today, Y/N Cookie. Ah, I already preordered myself a copy.”

You very much appreciated her support as you smiled warmly at her, Dumpling having to cover a blush with her notebook.

“O-of course, Y/N Cookie. Okay, next on the schedule is a interview with Reporter Cookie, and then a meeting with our manager, he said it was important.”

The manager? Wonder what that will be about. Sales have been doing pretty wonderfully, and you don’t recall particular problems with today’s performance..what was on his mind…?

————————————————————————

“Tell us, Y/N Cookie, how does it feel to be the next big and upcoming pop star? Your tracks never fail to reach around the top of the chart! I struggle to even get a physical copy with how many cookies crowd the stores!”

Cue a video showing a large crowd of cookies entering the store, huddling around your section inside as copies were literally flying off the shelves.

You chuckled at the recorded scene before answering her question that you were rather humbled that cookies actually listened to, god forbid, even like your music! You uploaded your first track for fun, not really expecting the SURGE of popularity it garnered!

You remember just making a small song in your home and posting it online, not really thinking much of it. To go from being a regular cookie to being a popular figure was surreal to say the least!

“Haha! That’s Y/N Cookie for you, viewers! Humble to the end! Your songs are always so sweet and amazing, it’s even garnered the attention of other cookies in the industry! Even the superstar, Shining Glitter Cookie, plays your songs in her car, humming along to it!”

Shining Glitter…actually likes your songs too? That…was a lot to take in actually, hehe.

“In fact, you’re the talk of the town amongst other well known cookies in the music biz! DJ Cookie mentions you a lot on their posts, Popping Candy showed off his collection of your merchandise, even rising star Parfait Cookie says she gets inspiration from you and your singing!”

Parfait Cookie, you remember going to one of her shows, before you became popular. It was a little funny now that she was looking to you for her inspiration to rise as a pop star!

Funny indeed…

————————————————————————

Your manager praised you for another outstanding performance today, tickets sold like crazy and merchandise sales continue to impress! Dumpling Cookie got a little bit of a scowl going on, she didn’t like all this talk about the money the manager was spouting.

“But…I believe you can get an even bigger popularity boost then what you have right now! After all, a cookie of your talent deserved it! Hence why I called you here!”

Oh? You asked him what that would be? You’re pretty comfy where you are right now.

“It’s no secret that other popular figures in this industry are fans of your music, so I reached out and a multitude of them wished to have a collaboration with you! A great opportunity in my opinion!”

“Now just hold on a second.”

Dumpling Cookie objected, surprising both you and the manager.

“I know you’re the boss and all, but is this really a decision only you yourself can make? A collaboration requires agreement from both sides and I’m not hearing any say from Y/N Cookie about this. I will not let Y/N Cookie be forced into anything.”

You accept!

“W-what?!”

“See, this cookie wants to do this as well! Let’s get this project underway!”

The manager starts to type away at his computer as Dumping turned to you in concern.

“You really want to do this, Y/N Cookie? I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this whole thing. Watching out for you is not just me doing my job, but because I care about you. Know that.”

You chuckled as you placed a hand on her shoulder, you looked her in the eye and reassured her that you were okay with it. It sounded like a neat idea and hey, you could make some new friends with this collaboration project. You thanked her for caring about you, it what makes her an awesome secretary to you.

Again, she used her notebook to hide her blushing face, a small smile forming on her face.

————————————————————————

You waited in your studio for the first cookie the manager scheduled for you, the door opening to reveal them.

Rock and roll, baby! Rockstar Cookie had made it onto the scene! He was enthusiastic to meet you, playing a guitar riff as he entered the room!

He’s seen your stuff and wanted to collaborate with you as your musician! With your cool singing and his spectacle guitar playing, you two would make a good team!

His admiration didn’t stop at just your jams, he will compliment you personally, though this will get an eyebrow raise from Dumpling Cookie.

You agreed that his guitar playing was pretty great, those were some sick riffs he played. This is enough for Rockstar to start playing his guitar from the hype.

Your audiences will just adore the two of you together, baby. His fans will simply love you after a concert together! He knows he does-

Alright that was enough as Dumpling Cookie nudged him out the door, Rockstar calling out to you that he hopes you pick him! Other cookies have no soul with their music, rock and roll was the way to go!

“Okay, that’s one of them. Not bad with a guitar, but should really learn personal space. Who’s next?”

Parfait Cookie would be the next to walk through the door, at first a little nervous, but after a warm welcome from you, her confidence grew and she was eager to proclaim her inspiration from you!

She heard one of your songs in the cafe and was immediately got stuck in her head. She was, like, a pretty big fan of you afterwards. She watched your shows and would try to replicate your singing and dancing herself!

You were flattered! It was pretty clear Parfait looked up to you a lot, like, a lot a lot.

She’s got a bunch of your albums in her room, she couldn’t pick favorites, they were all amazing! It would be perfect if you could sign them!

You were amazing….~

She would be a incredibly happy cookie if you collaborated with her, not only would she be one step closer to her dream, it would make her year to sing alongside her idol!

“Happy to possibly work with you, Y/N Cookie! I’ll totally cherish the time spent together, paru paru parfait~!”

Parfait happily waved at you as she made her exit, Dumpling closing the door behind her.

“She seemed fine, an inspiring cookie with a dream. Though she seemed too sugary with her admiration, if you want my opinion on it I mean. Let’s see…”

DJ Cookie made through the door with sick beats, nodded their head as they made their way to you. The winner of 8 Jammy Awards and had earned the label of having the best album of the year!

You’ve heard of DJ Cookie’s music career and thanked them for believing you were worth it to collaborate with.

Of course, you were a cookie with a sick talent for singing and dancing, DJ themself have a few videos of your performance in the background while they record!

They saw Rockstar Cookie leaving your office with a smug grin, you weren’t actually considering collaborating with him, were you? His music would put people to sleep, not DJ!

DJ believed that you are worth so much more to let a cookie like Rockstar be your musician for a concert! You deserved only the best and they will do their hardest to be the best for you!

8 JAMMY AWARDS. Did you know they won 8 of them?! Their album was at the top for the year! There was no cookie capable of such feats as them! The choice to collaborate with is obvious!

Just say you’ll pick them please.

And that was Dumpling’s cue to escort DJ out of the studio. DJ tried to say that it was only a heat of the moment thing, but Dumpling wasn’t having it as she closed door.

“For a cookie of their caliber, that went down fast. Please advise caution if you go with DJ Cookie, Y/N Cookie. They don’t seem to be of sound mind when it comes to…rivals. Next one in line!”

Popping Candy, similar to Parfait, was nervous when coming through the door. Along with Shining Glitter, you were an idol to him and his group the more they climbed up the chain.

Shows you his collection of your merch he has on his phone. He even had the head shaped pillow that quickly ran out of stock! To see his collection yourself, you chuckled as you scratched the back of your head in flattery.

When your manager put out the offer of a collaboration in his feed, he jumped at the opportunity. To have a joint concert with you would be a dream come true for a fan of his level.

He and his group, the Cake POPs, would do their best to follow your every step, they wanted to make sure this concert was perfect! Popping Candy already watches your performances on repeat, so he’s got an idea of how you perform!

His other group members would be greatly appreciative if you chose them to collaborate with!

Let him take a breather, wow, it’s just, he was actually talking to you, THE Y/N Cookie, an idol he’s been following for a long while now!

Could you perhaps…sign his forehead?

Dumpling sighed, that was her cue. She politely requested Popping Candy to make his leave, but to avoid making him upset, she tried a roundabout approach.

“Uhh, right. Thank you for your time, Popping Candy Cookie. We’ll keep in touch if you get picked, so give Y/N Cookie some time to think about it.”

Ah! Of course, Popping Candy understood! He got up and headed on out, he needed to practice on his choreography and singing some more! Dumpling wiped her forehead as she shook her head, what was going on today..

The most popular for last, Shining Glitter made her entrance by shaking hands with you, saying how she became a quick fan of you after listening to your songs on the radio. The way you sang just enraptured her!

She was a super star, but in her eyes, you were the star that shined as brightly as ever with how you were on stage! She found herself wanting to dance to your rhythm!

She scooted closer to you as she took your hand into hers, saying how this was probably your first collaboration and so it would be an honor if she was the first cookie you partnered with, it would mean lot. This sent alarm bells for Dumpling Cookie.

Both of you were popular stars, so it only makes sense that you two were paired together. Fans from both sides would just LOVE to see you two perform on the same stage.

They were naming a street after her, she’s considering including your name in it too as a token of your beautiful partnership with her!

Like with Popping Candy, she has a bunch of your merchandise she shows off on her social media, nabbing the higher end ones like Y/N Cookie-branded pillows, plushies, party sets, etc. Even a copy of your very first track release, it was incredibly rare!

Sorry if this seemed out of nowhere, but it would be a funny to see the possible ship names the fans would make for you two. Shining Y/N Cookie? Y/N Glitter Cookie? The possibilities were infinite!

Line was drawn, Dumpling requested that Glitter make her way home. Shining Glitter was genuinely confused with this, was it something she said? Shining Glitter would not budge as she refuted what Dumpling was trying to tell her.

“Ms. Glitter, you need to make way for the next cookie in line-“

“What? What do ya mean “next cookie”? Was my proposal not good enough to get selected right away? Who else was there to choose besides me?”

“Plenty of other cookies, you’re not the only one making it in this line of work. Simply, I don’t care if you’re popular, Y/N Cookie will not be working with any cookie who’s this forceful and arrogant.”

“I want to hear it from Y/N Cookie themselves, Y/N, would you like to have this partnership with me?”

Dumpling was doing her best to push back, but Glitter got uncomfortably close when asking that it made look to the side awkwardly.

Well…

“You’re, like, already popular enough, I should be the cookie they collaborate with!”

Parfait Cookie at the door?! DJ too?! Wait, they’re all here?!

“They’re good in the singing business, they just need the right cookie with the sickest beats, that’s where I come in and whisk them off their feet!”

“Your tunes are soulless, rock and roll is the way to go, baby!

“So many cookies here..will Y/N Cookie still choose me after all this?”

“A cookie of their standing only deserves an equal to that, don’t ya see that it’s me who can fulfill that?”

Dumpling Cookie grew increasingly agitated the more the group of cookies bickered, this was no way to act in front of you.

She had to angrily call for security to escore all the cookies out of the premises.

————————————————————————

The cookies waited in the lobby, sat down and lamenting on the events from earlier.

“We messed up, didn’t we? I hope Y/N Cookie isn’t too mad at us…”

“Parfait: I do admit to losing my cool there, it’s just…I look up to them so much, that sharing the stage would be a dream come true. I should’ve assumed it was the same for everyone else, regardless of fame.”

“Hear hear, the fire in my heart was so passionate that it clouded my mind…”

“Shining Glitter: I do admit that I was actin’ unprofessional back there, a part of me…wanted Y/N Cookie to like me as more then just being a superstar, but as me…”

The door leading into the lobby opened, revealing you and Dumpling Cookie as you made your way to them. Dumpling’s cold state boring into the eyes of the cookies made them want to avert their eyes from the intensity.

“Y/N Cookie has taken it into consideration…and they’re just not interested in any of you. Thank you for your time and actually make your leave from here.”

The cookies gasped in horror before you poked Dumpling in the shoulder with a pout.

Heyyy, you didn’t say that. Come on now, Dumpling.

“What? Am I not allowed to have a little fun?”

Broooo. Anyway, you corrected Dumpling’s little joke by stating that to avoid any discourse and bitterness from the other cookies, you’ve decided…that you accept everyone’s offer to collaborate. Let’s shoot for the moon with so much talent onboard!

Everyone was taken aback! They were so sure that they’ve messed up their chances by the little squabble from earlier, they didn’t expect you to have the opposite reaction in any capacity!

Well, the stage was for anyone, and considering how each and every one of them said they were a fan of you, you figured why not and decide to make this one grand collaboration of all different types of talent! The manager was certainly happy and excited with this idea, so if they’re willing, you were down with it.

They saw the opportunity and JUMPED for it

“Yeah, Y/N! Let’s make some killer music, baby!”

“I won’t let ya down, Y/N Cookie. I promise ya my beats will pump up the crowd!”

“Y-yes, I’d love to! I really need to practice now to match you!”

“Shining Glitter: Let’s be glorious stars together, Y/N Cookie!”

“Parfait: Wow, just wow! I’m, like, totally excited for this! I feel like my toppings wil melt!”

Dumpling Cookie rolled her eyes at the other cookies with a smile, you always did have a kind sway over cookies to have them get along. Sure, you weren’t as hard on them as she would’ve been, but it just showed how much of a giving cookie you were. And that’s what she loved about you.

————————————————————————

“Welcome back, cookies! We have a special performance today! Y/N Cookie is not making an appearance alone tonight! We at Star Jelly Records would like to announce our special guests! Rockstar Cookie!”

“Are you cookies ready to rock?! WHOO!”

“Parfait Cookie!”

“Paru-paru-PARFAIT! Are you cookies ready for sweet melodies!”

“DJ Cookie!”

“DJ Cookie here and I’m gonna drop the beat!”

“The Cake POPS!”

“We’re honored to be singing alongside Y/N Cookie! Here’s to a great concert with you all!”

And gracing the stage alongside them, Shining Glitter Cookie!

“Can you make some noise, cookies?! We can’t hear you!”

The crowd roars as you handled the mic, singing alongside Glitter, Parfait, and the Cake Pops while you played your tunes with Rockstar and DJ, all of them very much liking you giving them attention.

The manager behind the curtain was crying happy tears while Dumpling Cookie was waving a mini-flag of you as support.

Your mailbox will be crammed with fan letters, but hey, that’s the price to pay when you’re a superstar in this industry!

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