Myde Writes

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types, countdown to final crisis - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kyle Rayner & Jason Todd & Donna Troy Characters: Jason Todd, Donna Troy, Kyle Rayner Additional Tags: Multiverse Road Trip, Touch-Starved, Febuwhump 2023, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, look i just kinda blended a bunch of canon together, what is canon but a miserable pile of events, Men Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Panic Attacks, Kyle has a lot of problems and a lot of people want to kill him 💚 Summary:

Jason sees a lot more than anyone gives him credit for. He is - unfortunately - a Bat. Kyle Rayner is a little shit that has Jason’s hackles up at ever turn, but even so, something is adding up in a way Jason doesn’t like.

“Donna, we’ve got a problem,” Jason says. Donna hums from where Jason has her cutting up vegetables. He’s at the little camp stove they stole – requisitioned for use while they’re in whatever safe house they’re in now. “When do you think the last time someone hugged Rayner was?”

The Fic I talked about earlier!

Read on AO3 or read below the cut:

~~

Jason stares and Jason watches and Jason figures out what exactly it is about Rayner that’s been unsettling him the entire time they’ve been on this fucked up multiverse road trip. Rayner doesn’t let anyone touch him. They’ve been in universes where everyone isn’t trying to kill them, and Rayner hovers back, avoiding touch.

It’s a problem. It could get Rayner killed. Maybe not literally, but now Jason has the thought in his head and it won’t fucking leave.

Six Sentence Sunday

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

It’s a little weird, seeing Coby out of uniform – he’s in a button down, sleeves rolled up, his glasses look different, his hair isn’t held back by a bandana, and he’s wearing jeans, of all things.

“What’re you doing here?” Zoro can’t help but ask, slipping into East Common.

All Coby says is, “Work,” but Zoro knows that underneath the lightly said word, Coby means so much else.

ENJOY

It’s a little weird, seeing Coby out of uniform – he’s in a button down, sleeves rolled up, his glasses look different, his hair isn’t held back by a bandana, and he’s wearing jeans, of all things.

“What’re you doing here?” Zoro can’t help but ask, slipping into East Common.

All Coby says is, “Work,” but Zoro knows that underneath the lightly said word, Coby means so much else.

i had to think about what you were talking about for a second but yes. oda HIMSELF can pry “everyone is casually polylingual in one piece” from my cold dead hands

Luffy: Bribe with Lunch

Zoro: Bribe with Alcohol (or a sword)

Nami: A Traditional Bribe of Money and Treasures

Usopp: Possibly Bribe with Good Art Supplies and/or Stuff For His Slingshot

Sanji: Bribe with Ingredients 

Robin: Bribe with Information, idk yet

Chopper: Bribe with Medical Equipment 

Franky: Bribe with Raw Materials

I MEAN

i love the idea of Coby looking at Brook and saying “here’s some blank sheet music, please don’t cause trouble” and also agsldghasldkfj THAT’S BASICALLY HOW I WAS GOING TO DO IT TOO LIKE

Coby: Please, I’m begging, don’t let them topple the government we’re already looking into it 

Impel Down

~~~~~

Level Six was dark, dank, and full of the kind of horrors even seasoned pirates didn’t want to deal with. Crocodile would have disliked it on principle if only because of the damp. But he was trapped with seastone, without even the option to stay dry, thousands of feet below sea level.

The chill that seeped into everything he could handle.

The screams of the other prisoners, he could handle.

The damp that spread the chill and left a haze and settled wrong on Crocodile’s skin, he couldn’t handle.

He hadn’t minded the way sea salt felt against his skin until his devil fruit, and after that, Crocodile barely tolerated the way liquids in general made him feel solid in a way that he hadn’t before eating the damned fruit. Seastone made him feel that and worse, exhausted and worn out and weak in a way that he hadn’t been since his Captain had picked him up off a market street and fed him and gave him a home over thirty years before.

Crocodile was cranky and snappish and prone to irritating the guards who stopped by just often enough to see if they were still alive in this dank pit of hell.

Usopp wants his mom. Misses her, misses her voice and her paintings and her laughter and her presence. But she’s dead, dead and gone for years now and Usopp tries not to remember her in her last days, weak and weary and so, so tired.

Tries not to think about how Yasopp has been out of Usopp’s life longer, left him basically an orphan, motherless with his father at sea, and by now Franky feels more like his dad than Yasopp has in years and when Usopp thinks about that it feels like a betrayal -

But.

Usopp wants his mom.

So he goes to the best person on the Thousand Sunny.

Robin is reading in the Sunny’s library, two books open on the table in front of her and a notebook beside that an arm and hand sans body is absently writing in.

He knocks at the door, a little hesitant, and Robin looks up from her research. A soft smile crosses her face, and she says, just loud enough for Usopp to hear, “Come in.”

So he does, tentative, careful, hesitant, and Robin still has that soft smile, and Usopp is-isn’t soothed, because even thinking of Robin as “mom” stings with betrayal, with hurt, but he can always think of her as “Robin” and “Family” and “Home”.

Usopp sits upon the bench beside Robin and waits for a second before he leans into her space, head on her shoulder.

Robin doesn’t say anything, but a pair of hands sprout from flowers and start gently detangling the coils of Usopp’s hair.

“What’re you reading?” Usopp asks, voice small.

“A treatise on socio-political economics in the southernmost parts of South Blue,” Robin says easily.

That sounds reasonable enough to come from Robin’s mouth, so Usopp just hums.

“Tell me about it?”

“Of course.”

Six Sentence Sunday

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

I’m sure some of you remember that one fic I posted a couple weeks ago, where Sabo and Coby met in Marie Geoise.

This is the flip side of that conversation.

Enjoy.

Quick Warning: There is mention of the fact that Sabo has the Mera Mera no Mi/Flame Devil Fruit, and a quasi-consequence of that.

~~

“You saved Luffy’s life,” Sabo says. “When Ace… died.” He has a marine pinned, dragon claws on his throat, and fire roiling just under his skin. He knows who this marine is, and it’s hard to reconcile the fact that the kid beneath him stood up to the Fleet Admiral two years previous.

“Was murdered,” the marine gasps.

“Murdered. That’s a way to say it.” Sabo’s voice is grim, grim enough to match the smile that has the marine paling beneath him. “Ivankov told Dragon. A pink-haired Marine kid got between my brother and Admiral Akainu.” He taps a claw against the side of the kid’s throat, noticing how the kid’s Armament crackles, just a tick, beneath his claw. Good.

Sabo seethes with anger, with hate, and fire builds under his skin, threatens to spill out, to make his outside reflect what’s on the inside. He burns hot now, almost too hot. Bursting into flame beds the turbulence, makes it ebb slightly. One slight move, one wrong move, and he’d be a wildfire, burning bright and hot and long, sweeping across the lands. Not the ocean – he hasn’t been able to cross her freely, not truly, not in years, and now that ever so slight, nearly non-existent trepidation has become a thing of respectable wariness. No one controls the ocean but herself, and everyone is to respect her.

Sabo’s fire burns white hot, the same as their magnesium flares, could turn into a firestorm at any given second, if he gave it the thought.

He wonders if this is how Dragon feels all the time, with his storm and thunder and lightning. Like if he just gave up control, he could change everything.

Then he remembers Grey Terminal, the screams and cries of the residents. And he reigns in the feeling, and reigns in the fire, and forcibly keeps control.

Sabo knows he’s worried Koala enough with his fire, so he goes to the next best person.

Dragon is at the prow of the ship, where he always is, steady and stable like a port in a storm, despite being in the middle of a storm in the middle of the ocean and on their way to the Grand Line.

Sabo had been the one to set fire to their base in Baltigo, on Dragon’s order, had burned white hot and angry, and only the knowledge that he was keeping the others safe from Blackbeard kept him from regret.

“How?” he asks, itchy and antsy in ways he’s not been in years. His fire is ready to burn him from the inside out, ready to set him ablaze and everyone with him.

“You learn,” Dragon says, and that? That’s the least helpful thing he’s said, also in years. There’s a crackle, not unlike the fire within him but distinct from Dragon’s lightning, and Sabo is at Dragon’s back-front-on the deck, taken out in a way that he hasn’t been since he was thirteen and had faced everything the regular trainers in the Army had to teach him and he was first fighting Dragon himself.

“You are new, and you are young, and you will learn,” Dragon says. There’s a rumble of thunder and an uptick of wind and yet the rain slows, and Sabo reigns in his fire once more.

Everyone on the deck of their ship is watching them closely, and Sabo recognizes the annoyance-exhaustion of Koala’s Haki.

“Yes, sir.”

Dragon stares for a moment more and sighs, and something else burns under Sabo’s skin. Sabo looks up at Dragon with a look in his faded blue eyes, one that has Dragon placing a hand – hand not claw – on Sabo’s shoulder.

“We’ll work on it”

And just like that, the fire in Sabo is banked for now; he’s settled inside again, like Dragon had placed earth upon the hearth that was Sabo. There are still embers ready to be brought back with careful application of kindling, but Sabo will let that be up to Dragon.

Six Sentence Sunday

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

“Oh yes. The Florian Triangle. A dark, misty section of the sea where the sun never shines.”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Male Smuggler (Star Wars), Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Male Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Smuggler (Star Wars), Bowdaar (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Spoilers, Imperial Agent Storyline Spoilers, Smuggler Storyline Spoilers, mentions of torture, injuries resulting from torture, listen its the Imperial Agent, the agent’s day is Always Bad Summary:

“You’ve almost died so many times,” Coby says, his grip on Luffy tightening slightly. “It’s often enough that when I hear you’re up to something I have to factor that in.” Coby hates how his voice cracks, hates how there’s this little warble at the end.

Luffy’s silent.

Coby doesn’t know what to make of that.

“I know it’s just who you are, you have to give everything your all and you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t,” Coby says and he’s babbling, he knows he’s babbling, and he hates it. He’s spent so much time training himself not to panic-babble, and yet Luffy’s silence is more than he can bear.

“I worried you,” Luffy says simply, cutting Coby off. And Coby can’t find it in himself to speak, not without his voice cracking entirely so he just nods, ignoring how his everything is trembling slightly. There’s tears in the corners of his eyes, and he’s trying not to cry – another thing he’s worked on but isn’t always successful at.