#just looks a lot like him holding his fraying edges together with duct tape

[ascesabo]

sometimes i want to reach through the screen and shake sabo by the shoulders because. god. there's just so much going on with him.

he's first introduced through the veil of luffy's memories- here he's just another feral jungle kid, sticking it out with ace and luffy, the 'nicer' brother in young luffy's eyes. and then boom. you find out he's a runaway noble trying to escape his abusive, neglectful family- and this changes nothing, they still get to become sworn brothers, but just as quickly as this is resolved, his asshole of a dad takes the three of them hostage. and what does sabo do? he gives up the little sliver of freedom he'd fought for, is willing to become miserable and lonely again if it means ace and luffy are spared. and then he comes home to find that in his absence, his parents have already found a replacement! great!

and he doesn't even get to address how fucked up that is, because stelly runs his mouth and now sabo's too busy trying to figure out how to stop his brothers and their home from getting burnt to the ground. he never gets to give them a proper goodbye- he exhausts himself trying to reach them, but he can't because. you know. he's ten. so where does this leave sabo? ten years old, with nowhere to go- he sets out to sea to try and start over, and for the crime of wanting to escape a terrible life, he's punished with an explosion to the face. he loses his memories, his brothers lose him- and so the cycle continues.

then the army saves him, takes him in; he's essentially a child soldier, with how prodigious of a fighter he is from the get-go. but hey, he thinks he's finally found his footing, even if his past's a blur to him- then it all comes flooding back. in the worst way possible. he sees his brother's corpse and he remembers, but it doesn't matter, does it? he's too late, ace is gone, and sabo's lost ten years of a life he could have shared with his brothers. we don't even know how (if, even) he recovers from this- except for a single passing statement from koala, asking him if he's 'had that dream again' because he'd been crying in his sleep. this is never brought up or addressed again. great!plus, we never do find out if getting blown up at the ripe old age of ten could have left any lasting fire-related trauma; and if it does, what does that mean for sabo, who's pretty much made of it, now?

both of these questions are answered at once- sabo treats the fire as if it's ace. it's ace's legacy he's carrying on, and it's ace he seeks freedom for. he copes by making sure ace lives on in his flames, and how can he ever hate the fire living in him if that fire is all he has left of the brother he never got to see again?

i just have to wonder about him, because he's got so many Issues that just. don't ever get addressed? every time we see him deal with his grief (episode of sabo, his own retelling of events in dressrosa) we never really discover anything about him. i wonder how it felt to finally remember the childhood that eluded him, just to find out he was an unwanted, replacable child. how he feels, living with the knowledge that he could have done something to save ace, that he'd failed to remember the two people he loved the most? i wonder just how terribly that guilt must weigh down on him- because where luffy's already begun to heal, sabo still sees ace in everything he does. his title of flame emperor is a direct callback to ace's final attack in his fight against blackbeard. he talks to his goddamn fire like his brother is still in front of him, which is sweet and heartbreaking and, considering his backlog of unaddressed trauma... incredibly unhealthy. i know these will probably be left unresolved for the sake of moving the story forward- but god, sabo, are you okay?

#one piece #sabo #asl brothers #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #i cannot stop thinking about him #his grief is so. silent #blink and you'll miss it #i wonder if he'll ever be able to reconcile the person he is with the person he never got to be #or if he's just. going to brush it off because Everything Is Fine Obviously #i know he's explicitly stated that he won't live in grief because ace wouldn't want him to #but coming to that conclusion when he's probably had no time to heal #just looks a lot like him holding his fraying edges together with duct tape #my poor sabo #my princess .... #anywayyyy this is just me rambling pls dont mind

[crimes-inc]

Whumptober Day 1

CW: blood, injury, death threats

2130 words (I really don’t know how it ended up this long, it’s 1:45 am on day 2 oh god)

Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming prompts or need certain things tw tagged!

All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere to Go

Barbed Wire | Bound            

The sign on the self-storage entrance stated they closed at 10. Yet here he was at the exit at 9:47 rattling the padlock uselessly against the surrounding metal of the gate.      

Chase stubbornly, and perhaps desperately, gave it one last shake before turning away with a grimace. There’s no way they closed-up shop early with him still inside, right? He only had a few boxes to store away between moves and hadn’t been here that long, maybe half an hour. Hell, he signed a check-in sheet, wouldn’t they be responsible for making sure everyone had signed to check out as well?

The smart thing to do would be to give the owners a call, but Chase had decided to just leave his phone in his car to avoid losing track of it while he moved a few boxes back and forth between the unit and the parking lot. The “smart thing” wasn’t an option.

“Not exactly well-known for ‘smart things’ anyway.” he muttered to himself.

God, he could kick himself. If he ended up stuck here all night, then the morning wasn’t going to be too bright once his phone is blown up with missed messages. Stacy would be as pissed off as ever and just use the incident as another nail in his parental rights coffin, regardless of whether the kids were involved or not. Explaining his humiliating plight to Jackie or Schneep would just lead to two different well-meaning lectures on shit he already knew but can’t seem to get right. Maybe Marvin would laugh the whole thing off but the magician’s attitude towards danger and plain dumbass-ery seemed to change with the tide so there was no telling what he’d say.

Damn it, Chase, think! That’s later, focus on NOW. he chided himself.

He straightened his snapback hat and strode away from the padlock. Someone had to still be floating around, or maybe there was another exit he could use that would automatically lock behind him. After all, he figured the gate, fence, and locks were mostly there to keep people from getting in, not out.

He stole a glance at the high fence surrounding the lot, razor wire lining the bottom and three strings of wire leaning outwards towards the top. Yeah, definitely meant to keep people out. Still, that looked like a wickedly dangerous climb. He’d rather risk the sleepless night inside than getting torn to shreds to get out if he didn’t have to.

He straightened up and walked around the main office, also locked of course, but there was a security camera attached to the awning. Maybe if he…?

Chase jumped up and down waving up at the little white device. It was a long shot but maybe somebody was watching or could send someone his way at the very least. If not, well… if someone ever looked back at the tape, they’d get a little entertainment from the idiot hopping around on-screen. Not so different than his youtube channel if he was honest.

Chase checked his watch again: a crappy digital thing his daughter dug out of a box of Cheerios after he accidentally drowned his Apple Watch in the kitchen sink. “It’s glow-in-the-dark!” She’d declared to him with a proud grin. Chase gave a sad smile back at the face of Shrek strapped on his wrist. He hadn’t seen her face in weeks now.

He swiped at his eyes, recomposing himself. Hell of a time to get swept up in his broken family situation. It was nearly ten now, if there were any remaining workers around, he needed to find them quick.

“Hello?” he shouted, “Anyone still here? Kinda locked in…”

Chase made his way further into the maze of units, keeping his eyes peeled for an employee, caught between hope and hopelessness with each step he took.

Eventually, as he started closing in on the opposite end of the lot, he heard footsteps. He perked up and walked toward the sound.

“Hey, is someone there?” he called out. “Gate’s locked up front and I—”

The sound of the footsteps quickened its pace, and, wait, that sounds like a second pair but it was coming from…

Chase pivoted around in place just in time to see a man bring a pipe down on his head.

He came to in a daze, eyes fluttering open and closed, only vaguely aware of someone dragging his limp body along the pavement. He didn’t even remember falling, and his head was pounding heavily against his skull.

“—thought you said the place was cleared out!”

“Look,” the man gripping Chase said, “I saw closing shift take off, how was I supposed to know some idiot would still be wandering around?”

“Maybe the fucking remaining car in the parking lot would have tipped you off, Shane!”

“What the fuck do you want me to say? I only saw what the cameras were showing before shutting them off completely.”

A third voice joined in, “Shut up, that asshole was making too much noise as it is—let’s just hope he’s the only one around, we’ve pulled too many strings to turn back now.”

Chase felt himself get propped none-too-gently against the outer wall of a unit. He didn’t dare open his eyes. Whatever situation he’d stumbled into, he wasn’t in safe hands and any struggle he put up in his disoriented state would be a losing battle from the get-go. By the sound of things, these people had managed to break into a unit and were rummaging for goods.

The man knelt next to him again and held Chase’s arms together. The loud, sticky sound of duct tape rang out before Chase felt it be looped around his wrists a couple times. Once secure, he stood and turned away.

“Okay then,” the man—Shane—said in a more hushed tone, “the job’s not blown. But what do we do with him, Joseph? I don’t think he got a good look at me before I took him down. We might be able to set him loose once we clear out.”

“That’s a mighty big assumption.”

Chase tensed as the man named Joseph stepped closer to him. A hand was placed on his shoulder as he was shifted forward. He felt his wallet and car keys be slipped out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Hm. No phone. Eh, we’ll check his car later. See if anyone knows he’s here.” The man mumbled to himself. No one spoke as the contents were searched through.

Chase’s mind was becoming frantic. This seemed beyond just petty theft. While he was glad he hadn’t let on that he was conscious for fear of immediate and violent action, he didn’t know how he’d get out of this without a clear look at his surroundings and his arms taped up.

“Chase Brody. Ugh. Family type, good god, there’s more fucking kid photos in here than cash.”

Joseph paused another moment, most likely pocketing whatever cash Chase had had on him before. Chase was doing his best not to so much as swallow.

“No cops, no witnesses.” He announced, “I’m not blowing this job because some motherfucking dumbass was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’ll drive him out a few miles and get rid of him. Edith, drive his car over and we can just dump him there. See if the client will throw in a bonus for the trouble.”

As his car keys were tossed to the woman named Edith, Chase snapped his eyes open and kicked Joseph’s legs out from beneath him, causing him to stumble to the ground. Chase shot up as quickly as he could and sprinted away from the thieves. Blood was pounding in his ears. Shit, he didn’t know where to even go. The main gate was still locked, those assholes had probably managed to cut their way through the fence. That probably wasn’t an option for him since he didn’t know where it was or if there were more of them…

He heard cursing somewhere behind him, prompting him to go faster and take a turn down another row. He wasn’t getting out of here, he wasn’t getting out of here. It would only be a matter of time before they caught up to him and they might just kill him on the spot now that he’s proven himself a runner.

At least I managed to get a decent shin-kick in before I die. Chase thought.

He shook the grim thought away, no, he wasn’t dying here tonight and he wasn’t going to uselessly beg to be let go. He was getting out.

Chase began chewing at the frayed edge of the duct tape on his wrists, shimmying his hands the best he could. It was only a little bit of give, but he pumped his wrists sharply against his chest. It took a few tries but finally on the third try, the twisted duct tape broke free.

He peeled the grey adhesive away from his skin and made a sharp turn directly for the tall, barbed fence. He leapt up as high as he could, his right hand just barely missing a barb, and started maneuvering his way up.

“THERE!” a shout came from behind him. Too frightened to look back, he started climbing faster. While trying to be careful about his hands, the soles of his shoes seemed to keep getting snagged on the jagged metal forcing him to stop and kick himself free every few inches higher he seemed to get.

“I’m gonna cut him off on the other side—”

“Don’t bother, Shane, the fence will tear him to shreds before he reaches the top. He’s got nowhere to go.” Joseph said, “Grab his leg. Once he falls, hold onto him, and I’ll tear him into finer pieces.”

Chase kicked his foot free and started grabbing blindly higher. It was just blood, just a few punctures and cuts, he was going back home alive tonight. Scars, be damned. He could feel someone’s hand flail at the cuff of his jeans below him, urging him to climb faster, not daring to look down.

He reached the top. His hand reached the top of the bar to keep his balance, and he hoisted his legs up to stand on it precariously. The way the fence curved the three lines of razor wire outward was going to be tricky but he could—

The fence shuddered beneath him, as the man Joseph threw his weight against the chainlink below, Chase’s foot fell forward and he fell against the three wires bodily, barbs, piercing his shoulder and chest through his shirt. He let out a short scream, trying to free himself from it. The fence shook again as Chase picked himself slowly off the wires, flinging his left leg over to the other side, not quite reaching a foothold below him. His other leg grazed against the wire again, blood slowly cascading down his calf.

His left foot finally managed to find a resting point and he gripped the wire with his hand as he started to work his whole body over and down—the fence shook a third time. Both feet slid out from underneath Chase as his shoulder and hands caught all his weight against the wire, making a slick, sharp red line from the crook of his elbow to his shoulder, and his hands spilling blood through his grip. He released the wire and reached for a lower hold when his other hand let off too soon sending Chase to the ground below.

He landed hard on the ground, just outside the self-storage, one leg partially caught in the coil of barbed wire waiting at the bottom. His body screamed in agony, though Chase himself was breathless, the wind knocked out of him from the fall. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline and desperation taking over and ran. Whatever profanities and threats were being shouted behind him being drown out in the wind and the turmoil of fear echoing in Chase’s mind as he bled and ran away, away from his captors, his would-be murderers.

Eventually, the injuries began catching up to him, though it seemed the thieves had not. Shit, he was going to need a fuck-ton of stitches. What had started as minor abrasions had become horrible, open and freely-bleeding gashes. Hopefully the hit he’d taken to the head earlier would become nothing more than a goose egg.

The humiliating phone call to his friends about being locked in a self-storage was seeming like a great idea about now. Fortunately for Chase, an upcoming 24-hour convenience store was waiting for him just ahead, and inside, a man with a red hoodie and a slurpee was working the counter tonight.

#Whumptober2021 #jacksepticeye #jse egos #writers of jack #tw blood #tw injury #whumptober day 1 #chase brody #first time posting online #jacksepticeye fanfiction #barbed wire #bound

[iwhumpyou]

I mean just to be ~official~ “You guys are a bunch of idiots.  Did you bother to do any research before you snatched me off the streets?  I’m not a part of the team anymore.  They won’t come for me.  No one will come for me.” For janiya? 🥺🥺🥺

My whump prompts are being used against me. 😂

Changed ‘team’ to ‘pack’ for werewolf!verse.  This happens in an alternate timeline for Venom (which means I need to reorganize the masterlist, don’t I? *sighs in tumblr’s-organizational-options-are-shit*)

Also quickly got out of hand and I didn’t want to wrap it up with an unsatisfyingly short ending.

Masterlist.  Janiya.

~#~#~#~#~#~

She sighed as she got stuck behind a group of gossiping teenagers more interested in blocking the sidewalk than taking their discussion somewhere else, and stepped onto the road to bypass them.  A car blared its horn practically next to her and she flinched, stumbling back onto the sidewalk and shooting the car a filthy glare.

And then, just because it’d been that kind of day, the dark skies let out the rain they’d been promising, and the weather went from a drizzle to a downpour in seconds.

Janiya shivered from underneath a shop awning and glared at the way the streets became gray and misty. The desperate job hunting she’d done a few months ago had netted her only an entry-level research position, and the pay was shitty enough that her apartment was on the far side of the city, a forty-five-minute commute on a good day.

Today was not a good day. Today was going horribly.

Janiya stared at the underside of the awning.  “I just want to collapse on my bed,” she said, “Is that really too much to ask?”

No one answered her, and the pang of not hearing the immediate comebacks had dulled over time. Janiya sighed, eyed the dark clouds and decided that she’d be standing here for the rest of the afternoon if she waited for the rain to stop.

Planning to underline ‘umbrella’ on her shopping list, she stepped out, wincing as she was soaked within a minute.  The subway was a couple of blocks away and she resigned herself to going back to her apartment dripping wet, like a bedraggled cat.

The comments on wet dog smell and muddy paw prints were no longer on the tip of her tongue, but she could still remember that summer day when the lightning was flashing and the air was full of warm rain and shrieks and giggles as all of them had gotten thoroughly soaked, chasing each other in the front yard.

It still hurt.  Even now. Even months after she’d left.

Janiya tried to convince herself that the rain was making her gloomy and she’d feel better once she had a shower and a hot meal, but it didn’t quite stick.  There was an ache under her heart that never went away – a hollow that had once been filled with pack.

But that had been torn out and nothing would fill it ever again.

Janiya tried to tell herself that she didn’t like those losers anyway, but even her mental pep talk was unenthusiastic.  Janiya continued walking, glaring at the asshole approaching her with a black umbrella – he had clearly been prepared for this weather, he had gotten the essentials, he hadn’t absently filled his shopping cart with Rita’s favorite chips or Ash’s chocolate or five different flavors of ice cream before panicking and heading for checkout with only a bag of fruit and boxed pasta.

She shivered, something cold slithering down her spine, and picked up her pace.

She realized that the man with the umbrella was staring directly at her at about the time she heard the heavy, determined footsteps behind her.  Janiya’s well-honed senses shrieked danger but she only had enough time to feel a deep sense of dread before there was an arm tightening across her chest and a cloth pressed over her face.

She tried not to breathe but the cloth pressed deeper – it smelled sweet and cloying and, underneath that, a bitter scent that made her go cold.

She thought she heard a car screeching to a stop nearby, but there were raindrops in her eyes and everything was gray and she was beginning to feel…a little…dizzy…

~#~

She came back to consciousness with what felt like the worst hangover ever, a turn of events that wasn’t helped by the zipties pinning her wrists behind her back.  She was soaked wet and shivering and she’d lost her purse somewhere and her shoulders ached as she did her best to push up into sitting position.

Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, she was cold and achy and the wet clothes were beginning to chafe and the irritation was enough to drown out the fear as someone stepped out of the shadows of the room.

“Giving you four stars on ambience, but one star on service,” Janiya said hoarsely.

It looked like a typical basement – no windows, naked bulb in the ceiling, rough, unfinished stone for the floor – except for the fact that there was only darkness beyond the dim halo of light, no walls or furniture visible in the shadows, and that was a lot of real estate for a simple kidnapping.

She was still holding out hope that this was a simple kidnapping, fully aware of how pathetic her life had become if these were her choices.

“You won’t have to worry about our service for long,” her captor said simply, “Your pack has already been contacted.  It’s nothing personal, but your pack has been…unreceptive to our advances in the past, so we had to resort to more heavy-handed measures.”

Of course it wasn’t a simple kidnapping.  Janiya exhaled, and let the hope die – the hope that should’ve died the moment she smelled wolfsbane on that cloth.

“You guys are a bunch of idiots,” Janiya drawled, “Did you bother to do any research before you snatched me off the streets?  I’m not a part of the pack anymore.  They won’t come for me.  No one will come for me.”  Janiya bit her lip, hard.  She hadn’t meant to say that last part.

“Pack is pack,” the guy said, shrugging.

Janiya scowled, a familiar swell of annoyance at the condescending ‘oh, what does the human know about pack’ and snapped back, “Yeah, and I’m not pack.”  The guy didn’t look like he cared, and the annoyance went razor-sharp. 

“Oh, well,” Janiya shrugged, easing back into as comfortable a position she could manage with her wrists twisted behind her, “Guess you’re going to get a clue eventually.”

The guy shot her a glance, but didn’t respond, hovering at the edge of the light.  Making sure she didn’t escape, she guessed, just in case they’d gotten it wrong and she wasn’t entirely human after all. 

She waited, counting down from one hundred in her head before she spoke again.  “What about, you know, food and everything?” she asked.  The guy almost startled.  “You do know I’m a human, right?  Passed the Care and Feeding of Non-Supernatural Beings? We’re super fragile.”

The guy growled and Janiya hid her smirk.  “You won’t be here long enough to need anything.”

“Really?  Because I’m freezing over here.  Do you want me to get frostbite?”

“You’re not going to get frostbite,” the guy rolled his eyes and turned away from her.

“Oh, wow,” Janiya sneered, “I knew I should’ve picked the Ritz.  What happened to the customer is always right?”

She could practically see his temper fraying.  “I don’t goddamn care,” he said, stalking towards her and Janiya hid her flinch with a shiver, “Either you shut up or –”

“You’ll make me?” Janiya finished sweetly.

The guy looked like he was considering ripping her head off – his fists were clenched and she could spot the hint of fangs – and she grinned back at him, giving him her best smirk, the one that had once incited Ash to a screaming rage in less than five seconds.

“What is going on?” another voice rang out in the darkness and the man eased back.  Janiya straightened to watch the woman enter the light, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.

“Oh, lovely, I wanted to speak to the manager,” Janiya said, “This place is freezing.  The zipties are too tight.  Oh, and you have the wrong person.”

“No, we don’t,” the woman said.

“I’m not in a pack,” Janiya smiled tightly.  Not anymore.  “So, really, can we get this over with?  Because it’s honestly a little embarrassing that I got kidnapped by a bunch of second-rate thugs.”

“She has a mouth on her,” the man muttered sullenly.

“I can see that,” the woman said.

“Can we shut her up?”

Janiya laughed at that. “Good luck trying,” she said.

The woman considered her for a long moment.  “We said alive,” she said, “We didn’t say unharmed.”

Something curdled in Janiya’s stomach.

She kept up the smile, the irritation, the anger, because werewolves could smell fear, because she wouldn’t give them the goddamn courtesy of knowing that their words had hit.

“Torture?” she sighed, “How original.  Like no one’s tried that before.”

“You think we’re going to spend time torturing you?” the woman laughed, “Just to keep that mouth shut?  Oh no.”  She nodded at the man, who vanished back into the darkness.

“Duct tape is going to ruin my pores,” Janiya said solemnly.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said, a patronizing smile on her face, “Your pores will be fine.”

The man returned with an odd contraption in his hand – buckles and belts and metal and –

Light glinted off metal at the right angle and the pieces slotted together into the whole.

“Meant for werewolves,” the woman smiled, watching her, “But it’ll do to shut your mouth.”

“I get accessories now?” Janiya blinked, suppressing the shriek as her voice threatened to go too high, “How kind of you.”

The woman’s smile merely grew, tracking all the tells that Janiya couldn’t hope to hide from werewolf senses.

She jerked away from the man, curling up to hide her face, but someone stepped on her bound wrists, sending her arching back, and werewolf-strong hands gripped her face. She could feel her jaw creak.

They fit the muzzle over her head – it was blocky and dense, fitting over her nose and brushing the top of her cheekbones and the line of her jaw.  There were slits to let her keep breathing, thankfully, and she glared as they began to tighten the buckles.

The muzzle had protruding parts and it pinched at her skin as they yanked the belt tight against the back of her head.  She hissed – or tried to, her lips were smashed against her teeth and the metal dampened her mumbles.

“You’ll want it tight,” the woman said, correctly reading the expression in her eyes, “Or your face will come off.”

Janiya frowned in confusion – but they finished adjusting the buckles and the woman stepped forward to…to press something on the mask and –

Janiya’s muscles clenched in sudden tension as a high-pitched whine built at the back of her throat – she couldn’t scream, she couldn’t even be heard because the damn thing had latched onto her face and the sudden stabbing pain had nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“What’s that?” the woman asked, stepping closer with wide eyes, “I couldn’t hear you.”

Janiya tried to convey her sincere wishes for the woman to go jump off a bridge into a shark pit with her narrowed eyes alone.

Judging by the woman’s laughter, it wasn’t as effective as she could hope.

“Come on,” she motioned to the other guards, “She won’t be causing problems anymore.”

Janiya slumped back as the footsteps receded, and tried to breathe through the shooting pains.

~#~

Part 2.

#whumpfic #janiya #arc: muzzle #werewolves #muzzle #kidnapping #ransom #passing out #request fill