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flamingpudding · 6 months

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I am keeping him B

A/N: Stress late night writing, while I am supposed to sleep cause I still got work tomorrow but screw my life...

It all started with the disappearance of Box Ghost, followed by Spectra. Back then, Danny didn't realize what was happening, and he still blamed himself for that. What a fine bridge of balance he was....

The next to disappear had been Elli and Danny had mobilize whatever he could to organize a search party when he lost contact. After Elli, Ember was next. Maybe by then Danny should be realized.

Dan was the next in line of disappearances. Vlad was the one making Danny aware of it. Everything Danny had mobilized in his search for Elli was extended to find Dan now, too.

Shortly after Dan, Vlad also disappeared from the face of earth. If he hadn't already be worried Danny would have been now. His events tripled, sleepless nights followed, days in which Jazz practically had to force him to sleep.

One by one all the Ghosts Danny knew disappeared. Maybe he would have realized it sooner if he had paid more attention to certain things, to the news to politics, to anything really. Maybe then Danny would be noticed the appearance of Dalv.Co and his parents invention on the black market. The sudden spike in Meta traficing following or the sudden interest in Ecto-entities.

But he hadn't...

...and that probably what was what costed him too.

Because, one day, he woke up in a dark cell, still in his Phantom transformation but with a collar around his neck. It zapped him any time he touched it or tried to let go of his ghost form. It was like a reverse of the stupid taser Vlad had. There were no mirrors or anything he could use to see himself with, but he had a feeling that collar used Fenton tech. He also realized that he was in a more eldrich kind of transformation. His hands that usually were in white gloves when in phantom form were clawed and inky black with sparks that reminded Danny of the night sky's above Amity Park. He couldn't tell if he looked anything like himself or not, but judging by his hands, probably not.

That day, when Danny woke up in that cell, he realized the reason behind the disappearances of his family and ghost rogues. Just like there was a spike in Meta trafficking, the growing interest had also developed into Ecto-Entity trafficking and worse was, they weren't even protected by law. The Anti-Ecto Acts are making it not even a real or all too big of a crime.

Months passed, and Danny learned to shut his mouth and emotions out. He thought he was even in a state disassociation, Jazz would have been proud of him for his self diagnosis, maybe. With the passing days, Danny stopped remembering who owned him and who he was forced to fight. Sometimes, his eyes came to live when he met one of his old friends in the battle rings. Tho their fights were no longer a form or bonding, it still felt nice to sometimes feel the heat of Ember's flames, the sting of Skulkers blasters or even see a box get thrown at him.

Of course, he had tried to escape or save at least one of the others before, but whoever modified his parents' inventions knew what they were doing. All his attempts were met with failure.

But then the day everything changed came. Danny didn't know how long it had been, all he knew was that a stupid clown was his current holder. The guy spouted some nonsense or wanting to see how a bat, of all animals held himself against one of the strongest ecto-entiies. Danny really wanted to refuse, yell at that fruitloop of a clown and be done with the World.

But what he didn't expect to happen that day was the shock of electricity, the ricochet of a bullet, the crack of metal... and the collar falling of his neck.

Suddenly, Danny no longer felt like he was trapped in his own body, like he was just an onlooker, but at the same time, he had never felt this tired before. He stumbled forward his body losing whatever momentum he had before. It was a single arm that saved him from faceplanting.

"Fuck! That thing was actually a kid!"

"What?!"

"I am going to fucking murder the clown."

Danny blinked slowly as he felt his awareness sliding from him, yet he still couldn't help muttering at least something before the world would go dark. "Get in line, I really hate clowns, and he is the nightmare realm fodder."

Danny felt the arm holding him shaking, and he really wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but right before he did, in fact, black out from pure exhaustion, he heard one last thing. "I don't give a fuck, B. I like this kid so I am keeping him."

#danny fenton #dp x dc #danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover #jason todd #fanfic #i am sleep deprived #late night stress writing #hope any of this makes sense #Jason going to keep Danny #batfam to the rescue #once danny is awake again a lot of bad guys will wish he wasn't #random late night thoughts

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frostbitebakery · 7 months

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WILL YOU PLEASE RING IN YOUR DESTRUCTION

surrender au

“Genera—“

Obi-Wan is already on his feet and running before a sickening crack cuts off the trooper’s warning.

Cody is hot on his heels, does not let the red lightning rumbling down from the sky freeze his movements even if his thoughts blank for the slice of a second.

He skids to a halt, blaster already drawn, ozone burning through his senses. He registers Obi-Wan lowering his hand—

“Cody, I want every man to back away fifty feet. Close the perimeter but don’t interfere unless I say so.”

That’s not Obi-Wan. Washed out and grey, veins prominent and red and broken. But it’s the same face, underneath it all. The not Obi-Wan sighs in disappointment at— fuck- fuck, that’s Wooley’s paint, Wooley’s body lying on its stomach, visor staring up at the sky.

“Are you alright?” There’s a soldier, back towards them, heavily armed, and voice too, too familiar for comfort.

The facsimile smiles ruefully. “I’m fine,” he reassures as if he hasn’t just killed— “He was so loud.”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan, his one, says and he remembers his orders.

The soldier sighs, gently takes one of the not Obi-Wan’s - precisely scarred, what happened - hand in his own gloved one and squeezes.

Activating the battalion frequency is second nature by now. “Perimeter 50 feet from hostiles. Do not engage. Wait on the General’s orders. I repeat, do not engage until further notice.”

“You’re starting negotiations somewhat abruptly,” the soldier scolds with a smile in his voice.

His Obi-Wan takes a step forward, hands vanishing in his robes.

“He’s trying to find the difference,” the— the wrong— yellow eyes flick over the soldier’s shoulder at his General, a bright smile blooming on dry lips - the utterly wrong Obi-Wan— “Oh…”

The soldier turns around like an afterthought, like there aren’t dozens of blasters and a Jedi Master focused on him. A cybernetic eye whirrs, scar tissue tight and just as familiar as the voice’s cadence. An unimpressed look washes over Cody and he can feel his hackles rise despite himself, swallowing up the fear of what-ifs turning all too real.

With a twist and turn the wrong Obi-Wan, the Sith, is around Cody’s doppelgänger, the cane sharply digging into the ground.

“General, behind me,” the soldier orders, is promptly ignored in favor mad yellow eyes digging into Obi-Wan.

“You’re so Light,” the Sith whispers to himself, taking another step forward to Cody’s General.

The soldier - Cody will deal with the implications of it all, but later - snags an arm around the Sith’s waist and pushes him behind the bulk of his body, careful and practiced. He musters Obi-Wan noncommittally. “Is he what you’re looking for?”

“Cody, they’re all so Light.”

The soldier nods, hand drifting towards - Obi-Wan’s, what the hells - the lightsaber clipped to his chestplate.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan, Cody’s, says with a polite incline of his head, “we do try not to succumb to the Dark Side around here. It’s splendid for my youthful looks, evidently.”

The Sith smiles in cracked stretches, takes a step forward like a moth to a flame until he bumps into the soldier’s outstretched arm. “Would you like to discuss your surrender, General Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan folds his hands behind his back, his own smile going tight, and Cody sees the hand signals. “Over a cup of tea, perhaps?”

#codywan #obi wan kenobi #sith!obi wan #dark!cody #star wars #star wars au #tcw #my art #frostbitebakery art #surrender au

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑼𝑹𝑶𝑹𝑨 𝑩𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑺

pairing: din djarin x fem!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, romance, smut, forced proximity

word count: 2.8k

summary: A friend, lover, then stranger. The last thing you expected was to be snowed in along with the bounty hunter. Tension rises as the past circles you both, trapped in the Razor Crest with no where to run or hide.

warnings: established past relationship, piv, touch starved din, creampie, also this takes place after S2 but the Razor Crest is still here because I love it so much and miss it

a/n: As some people might remember, I had a winter WIP list called 'Psychedelic Winter,' and this was one of the fics that I said I would write. And I thought, 'Hey, what better moment to post this than the day Mando S3 drops?' Enjoy everyone, happy mando day!

When you were thrown onto an icy planet by your so-called colleagues, you didn’t really have a plan for survival. It was your fault really, you were too trusting, too eager to help and be useful. It was a stupid habit that you had since very little, forced to feed yourself in this lonely lonely world.

However, it wasn’t always like that.

With a shudder, you hug yourself, your boot-clad feet buried in the snow. The flakes feel like glass shattering across your skin, painful and cold. Even your lungs tremble from it. As you walk forward, your mind brutally reminds you of him. A man that became a friend, a confidant which had quickly turned into something more. Heat pools between your legs at the mere thought of it, the feeling of emptiness and cold prominent.

The Mandalorian. Mando. Din Djarin. Din.

You miss him still. You can’t really help it. You loved traveling with him, and after such a long time, you truly felt like you belonged. He became family. He became your everything. Soon after your little family grew, Grogu joining the fray. It felt like a dream, you were finally living out what you’d been searching for.

But that all changed when Grogu had to return to his own kind. The Jedi. Din grew distant, he pulled away, not responding to you or your touches. You just felt grief emanating from him, something that you couldn’t fix. He didn’t ask you to leave, you just left. Once again alone, once again without a home.

In your desperate attempt to replace it, you went with anyone who would tolerate your presence. You’ve met some good people, but you’ve met some assholes too—obviously.

Your lashes turn into cold crystals, stinging every time you blink. In the distance you see a hint of yellow light that bleeds into red, you can feel the warmth of it despite being far away. Like a moth to a flame, you walk towards it, your steps fighting against the cold wind and the snow. You can’t feel your fingertips anymore, or your legs, or your face for that matter. You’re flirting with death.

You notice that the ship most likely crashed. You press your freezing palms into the metal, still hot, a soft heat spreading throughout your hand and blossoming across your arms. You let out a sigh. It feels familiar like you’ve been here almost. Teeth clattering, you reach the door and give it a loud knock, your fists hurt when you do it, but you manage to muster your last bits of strength.

The door opens with a muffled hiss and you find yourself immediately staring into a blaster.

A very familiar blaster.

You quickly realize why this ship felt familiar, it was the goddamn Razor Crest. Your home—once upon a time.

The blaster falters, and you stare into the familiar dark visor, he tilts his head. You like to imagine that he’s happy to see you despite the shock. With a crooked smile, you mimic his movement, cocking your head to the side.

“Hey, Din.”

Everything is the same. Everything is different. It’s weird to be back within the Razor Crest’s metal walls. The ship creaks with the wind, metal groaning as Din sits across from you, his legs spread and elbows leaning over his knees. You chew the inside of your cheek. Having such intimate memories with someone is an odd thing, your body still remembers what it felt like to be filled so thoroughly by him, to have his large hands squeezing and kneading your ass as you dripped and begged for more.

Heat settles right below your spine. You wonder if it’s the same for him too. Had he thought of you after you left? Had he rutted into the pillows imagining that it was you instead?

Probably not.

“The engines are messed up from the cold but as soon as the storm lets up a bit we should be good to go,” he says, refocusing your focus back on him. “We’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

You nod, not really knowing what else to say. To be honest, you’re slightly embarrassed that he’s seeing you like this.

“How did you end up here?” he asks.

The question surprises you because you hadn’t expected him to make conversation. You can’t tell if he’s angry or not from the modulated voice. He sounds like he always does. You look up to him, wishing you could see his face.

“Grouped up with the wrong people. You?”

“After a bounty.”

“Ah, the same old.”

“Pretty much.”

The following silence is uncomfortable, it makes you feel unwelcomed and slightly gross. You don’t know what to say. What can you say to the man you basically abandoned? That was never your intention, but it was what he wanted. He didn’t need you around, reminding him of something important that he’d lost.

Your mouth acts unfiltered, the horror sinking in as soon as you ask.

“Have you heard from Grogu?”

He stiffens quite visibly. His shoulders raise, his visor looks down. You curse your tongue from moving on its own. Din’s anger is physically felt by you, it chokes out the air from your lungs, forces the soles of your shoes to be glued to the floor. Your eyes go wide and you swallow. Your lips are sealed shut when he stands, his figure suddenly larger and taller than what you’ve been used to from your memories.

“You don’t need to ask about him,” he answers curtly. “We don’t need to talk at all.”

Din storms towards the back of the ship, his long strides reverberating through the metal walls. His sudden outburst leaves you stunned, your thoughts scrambled like the tangled wires of a circuit board. The sound of sparks and him tinkering with something echoes within the confinements. You’re stunned. Confused. You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, before the ship groans and shudders again. A loud groan vibrating from your feet to your chest.

Your feet move of their own accord, propelled by a mix of curiosity and concern. As you approach, the cacophony of tinkering grows louder, the metallic clinks and whirs blending into a symphony of sound. At first glance it looks like he’s doing nothing, crouched over, just occupying his hands. You reach out to touch his shoulder, a hesitant gesture. To your surprise, he leans in instinctively, his body responding to your touch like a magnet to metal.

But then jerks away, as if he’s been burned.

“What did you mean by that?” you ask, pulling away.

He huffs, his hands falling. “I just said we don’t have to talk.”

“What if I want to talk? I missed you, Din.”

It’s an unexpected, sudden confession but you decide to go with it. It isn’t a lie. You did miss him.

“Miss me?” he hisses out, his head falling back, he stares at the ceiling. “You left.”

“What? Are…are you blaming me for what happened?”

“No,” he stands up, his masked face an inch away from yours. You fight the urge to take a step back. He wouldn’t hurt you. He slowly tilts his head as if he’s amused by whatever expression you’re pulling. “I’m stating a fact. Didn’t you go?”

Your eyes fall to his chest, “I did but—”

“Then I find you on the brink of death, shivering, helpless,” he lets out a deep breath, chest heaving. “Was it worth it?”

“I left because you didn’t want me around.”

Your gaze snaps back up. He doesn’t move, the visor staring back at you feels colder compared to the storm raging outside. The build-up of tears is sudden, overwhelming. Your face controls with anger, your brows pinched and your lips curling down. The rage twists in your gut, you’ve been suffering, doing jobs left and right to feed yourself. And he has the audacity to tell you that it’s your fault? That he never wanted you to leave?

Bullshit.

Without thinking you push him away, your hands finding the cold plates that decorate his chest. He doesn’t move. An indestructible wall. Shaking your head, you push at him again, and again, and again. When nothing works, you hammer down with fists. Your heart beats loudly and painfully in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t speak. It’s suffocating and cold. So fucking cold.

Your fists stop mid-air when he holds them, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists.

“I never asked you to leave.”

“You didn’t have to,” your eyes fall, shame heating your cheeks. “You barely spoke to me. Touched me. It felt like I was reminding you of a tainted memory. Something you could never have again.”

“That’s not…dank farrik—”

He pulls you in, arms coiling around you with the intent to never let go. The beskar is uncomfortable but comforting. Your hands shake as you return in like, wrapping your arms around him weakly. His hand cradles the back of your head, the other one sliding down to rest against the small of your back. He doesn’t say a word but you know this is his own peculiar way of apologizing. Even if he’s not sure what he’s apologizing for. Neither of you are. Luckily, you have a very functional mouth.

“I thought you wanted me gone after…I didn’t know. I should’ve realized you were hurting. I was so afraid of what you might say that I acted before you actually said it.”

“I was never planning on saying it,” he answers. “I missed you too, mesh’la.”

His scent; metal, musk, and something sweet fills your lungs. You take deep inhales of him, grounding yourself back to reality. The hard surface of his helmet presses into the top of your head. The ache between your legs is uncomfortable, you want to touch him, feel his bare skin against yours.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

You answer. “With my life.”

“Then close your eyes for me. Let me guide you.”

You do as you’re told. A dance that you’ve grown accustomed to once upon a time. The hiss of a helmet, the touch of his lips, the feeling of his hands cupping your bottom. He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, reminding himself of what you felt like all those times ago. He tastes the memories he hasn’t been a part of, he gets used to the differences.

When he parts, it’s hard to keep your eyelids from fluttering. You don’t open them, but the tease of the what if always remains. What would happen if you gave into temptation? Would he know you’ve seen him? Would he be angry? Would he never see you again? Would it be worth the risk?

No, you think, It wouldn’t.

“Touch me, riduur, I need you to touch me,” the last plea is spoken brokenly. “please.”

Your hands roam his armor, blindly helping him out of it, touching every exposed skin and muscle. He’s trembling under your touch. You feel the thrust of his hips into yours, still clothed, desperate. Your skin prickles when you feel the hardness, heat pooling between your legs, and tingling. You’re just as desperate as he is.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bunk. You feel him everywhere. His lips are on your breasts, kissing a trail down and circling the pebbled nipple with the tip of his tongue. He opens his mouth wide, fitting as much as he can as he sucks and bites. You arch into him, your hands still touching—tracing his back, cupping his ass, pulling him closer, asking him to thrust against you in the same desperate manner he had not moments ago.

“Why did you leave?” he asks between wet, needy kisses. “Why did you go?”

“I don’t know,” you say over and over. “I was scared, I’m sorry, I love you.”

It was like a song that was whispered for their ears only. It’s a symphony of reminding themselves what they’d lost, and what they’d gained.

Feeling him inside is a beautiful thing. Din is not a small man, not in the slightest, and he has to cover your eyes just in case when he fills you. It’s a smooth entry, your wetness enough to pull him deep inside. Your walls flutter, the blissful pain of the stretch makes you moan his name. The first thrust is like fireworks in your mind, bursting with pleasure. The second one you feel like ice, melting into the motion of his hips and the warmth of his cock.

“Harder,” you breathe out. “Harder, fuck me, Din.”

His teeth sink into your neck, his pacing fast, hard. The sound of skin against skin is loud enough to drown the sound of the snowstorm outside. You push against each thrust, albeit your movements not really doing much, uncoordinated and unpracticed. Din pins your hips down, his fingers like iron branding your skin. He hammers into you, the dark curls stimulating your clit forcing out a gasp from you.

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“Look at me. Open your eyes.”

His hips slow down into a tortuous grind. Your bottom lip trembles at the thought. You’re scared to open your eyes, and frankly, you’re not sure if you heard him right. His thumb smooths over your closed lid, gently pulling them down.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers. “I want to see you. I want to see the look in your eyes when you come for me. I want you to see mine.”

“Are…are you sure?”

Your heart feels like a ticking time bomb, your chest ready to explode, the ticking in your ears too loud.

“I’m sure.”

Your eyes open incredibly slow, fearful. Din’s face clears up and you see him smiling down at you, his hair mussed, sticking to his forehead due to sweat. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his cheek, feeling the trimmed down hairs with the pad of your thumb. He leans into your touch.

“Now, that wasn’t so scary was it?” he asks, you smile and shake your head.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He kisses you. It’s different this time, softer, slower. He resumes his thrusts, hips snapping into you with the intent of release. His one hand slides between your bodies, thick fingers finding your clit and starting to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive nub. The skin above your stomach grows tight, your thighs shaking against the broadness of his hips. You can’t get enough of him. Kissing him and at the same time trying to look at him. You engrave his face into memory.

Din breaks the kiss with a rush, his one hand cradles your cheek, tilting your head up to him. He holds your gaze, his lips parted. You feel your cunt fluttering around him, his cock heavy and throbbing deep inside you. Din spills into you with a groan, his hips stuttering forward. You follow right after, the sight of him too much. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and his eyes roll back, you gush around him, your body convulsing as a silent promise never to let him go.

When both of you come down from your highs, he kisses you. Again and again. A man starved. A man desperate. Only one plea falling from his lips.

“Touch me.”

You wake up with his touch on your shoulder. When you open your eyes memories come flooding back, you and Din, again you had found your home. You wince as you slowly get up, the ache between your legs uncomfortable but missed. You notice that Din is in full armor, waiting for you outside of the cot.

“Come with me,” he says, voice hoarse. “I want to show you something.”

He helps you into your clothes and his hand never leaves your waist as the two of you make your way up to the cockpit. The storm had subsided, only snow falling scarcely from the heavens above. He points you to look up, and you do.

Your breath catches in your throat. The sky is alight with an otherworldly dance of colors - the aurora borealis.

The lights shift and shimmer, painting the sky with vibrant hues of green, blue, and purple. It's as if the entire galaxy has come to life, it’s beautiful.

Din's arms wrap around you from behind, and you melt into his embrace. The warmth of his body against yours, the strength of his grip, and the steady rhythm of his breathing all serve to ground you in the moment. You feel safe, and you feel loved.

The aurora continues to dance above you, you lean your head back against Din's chest. It's like nothing else matters in the world except for this moment - just the two of you, surrounded by the beauty of the cosmos.

And as you look up at the lights, you know that you are home.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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