whumphours

[whumphours]

People always talk about Whumpee falling on the floor and Whumper putting their foot on their chest or back or neck or their hand to pin them there. Let’s stop beating around the bush, okay, just slam that boot right on their face. Hear the crunch of their nose and really twist the sole in so you get a nice messy, bloody print in there ��

[whumphours]

Whumpee thought their team must have understood that it was all fake. That what they had seen in the videos, of Whumpee wearing the opposition's uniforms, repeating their rules and orders, was a performance to escape the torture.

They thought being rescued would mean returning home.

But here they were, branded TRAITOR, burned across their skin for all to see. An example. Nothing more.

[whumphours]

Whump Aesthetics: Permanent Injury

whumpees that were scarred so often that a lot of their skin is just painful scar tissue

chronic pain from bones that got broken and healed wrong

illnesses that never went away, that mean constant medication or simply having to live with the symptoms

deafness/sound sensitivity from noise torture

light sensitivity from constant darkness/blindfolding

nerve damage from being bound too tightly

concussions that cause long-term memory problems, dizziness, irritability

whumpees with damaged tongues or vocal chords learning how to speak again, unable to say certain sounds or words

joint damage from being made to kneel

losing functionality in limbs, or losing limbs entirely, having to relearn basic things they never thought they wouldn't be able to do

maybe they can heal emotionally but these things will never go away, a constant reminder of what they went through, how much it hurt, how much it will hurt forever.

yeah <3

[whumphours]

I should tie up more whumpees with rope... not even nice rope, the kind of rope that cuts into their skin and rubs their skin raw every time they try to struggle until their wrists and ankles are red and bleeding... <3

[whumphours]

Dust and Smoke - Jed, Ash, & Sawyer

The Before Times: Seventeen Pt. 1 /

Ash's Captivity: Exhilarating / Silent, Pretty Suffering / You Will Not Die Here

Jed & Ash: Guilt

Misc: Sawyer puts something in Ash's mouth / Ash's deepest secret

Picrews of the main characters under the cut!

Jed, Ash, and Sawyer, in that order <3

[whumphours]

Seventeen Pt. 1

It's Jed's seventeenth birthday, and he's about to meet the man who will ruin save his life.

Tagging @crowned-avery

Warnings: Child abuse (shown and discussed super casually), mentions of gangs, ableism/internalised ableism (against autistic people specifically), harmful stimming, underage smoking, casual discussion of addiction

Jed sat quietly, leg bouncing. He couldn't shake the bad feeling this whole thing gave him.

He felt a hand press down on his knee, and he sharply looked up at his dad, who was giving him an annoyed stare.

"Stop that," Cliff snapped. "It's fuckin' distracting."

"Sorry," Jed mumbled.

Cliff checked his watch. "Where in the hell is he?"

Jed was half-hoping nobody would show up after all. The leg bouncing resumed.

Jed recoiled from a sharp slap to the face.

"I told you to fuckin' stop, Jediah," Cliff snarled. "Your fuckin' ears fall off or something?"

"...sorry." Jed stared at the floor.

"I hate when you do that. Sorry, sorry," Cliff mocked, "how about you just try shuttin' the fuck up and stayin' still? You're so much like your fuckin' mother."

Jed bit his lip hard enough to cut it open, and forced himself not to move. Cliff never meant it well when he compared Jed to his mother. June Ellis had something wrong with her, is what he'd always been told. She talked weirdly, or didn't talk at all, and moved strangely, and didn't sleep, and didn't understand things, and Jed was the same.

June's approach was kindness and understanding. Cliff's approach was to beat it out of him.

"There you fuckin' are." Cliff got up and held out his hand to the man who had just walked into the room. "Cliff Ellis."

The man flashed a smile. "Emmett Jackson. Nice to meet you, finally."

Jed didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. He'd tried to argue that getting involved with gangs was a step too far, even for Cliff, but he'd just gotten a slap upside the head and told not to interfere with business.

Business, Jed thought bitterly, what business? You're a conman and everybody knows it.

Cliff grabbed him by the shoulders to get his attention. "Time to fuck off, kid."

Jed wordlessly got up, left the room, and felt like he could finally breathe. He walked down the hallway of the house they were staying in - Jed wondered what it would be like to actually live somewhere, not just stay - and decided to go outside.

The weather was nice, at least, for early March. Jed sat down against the wall of the house, and let himself flick his wrist back and forth and hum softly. It was less likely that Cliff would suddenly walk in here, especially since he made sure to sit where the door would block any view of him, at least for long enough that he could stop before Cliff threatened to snap his wrist again.

When he heard footsteps a few minutes later, he froze, before realising it was someone coming from around the back.

He looked to be around the same age as Jed, with unkempt, short brown hair and a cigarette box in his hand. He didn't raise his head, but he leaned against the wall, not too close to Jed, and glanced towards him.

"Hey," the boy said.

Jed wasn't sure how to react. "Um. Hey."

"Mind if I smoke?"

Jed shrugged.

"Cool." The boy fought with his lighter to get it working, then lit his cigarette. "So. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

The boy chuckled softly. "My dad dragged me along to some meeting and I fucked off. Do you live here or something?"

"Sort of." Jed bit his lip. "Are you… related to Emmett Jackson, then?"

The boy side-eyed him. "Maybe. What's it to you?"

"We're kinda in the same boat." Jed tried to think of what to say to seem normal. "I'm, um, Jediah. Ellis."

"Well that's a stupid fucking name," he said immediately. "I'm not calling you that. How's Jed?"

Jed blinked. "It's… fine, I guess? What's wrong with my name?"

"It's just stupid. I like Jed better." The boy didn't speak for a moment as he smoked. "Name's Sawyer. You're related to the guy my dad's meeting with, then?"

"...yeah, I'm his son." Jed made a face. "Unfortunately."

"Ha!" Sawyer grinned and tapped the ashes off his cigarette. "We've both got shitheads for fathers, huh?"

"He's not… that bad."

"You've got bruises 'round your wrists," Sawyer scoffed.

Jed immediately pulled his sleeves down.

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for proving my point."

"Well, I think gang leader is worse than conman," Jed snapped.

Sawyer faced Jed, and Jed had the horrific realisation as to why Sawyer had been turned away the whole time. There was a dark ring of purple around Sawyer's left eye that still seemed very fresh, and Sawyer pointed to it. "Hasn't gone away for a week. If he'd hit me any harder I'd probably not be able to see out of it. Do you feel good about being right, huh?"

He spat that last sentence, and Jed felt that heavy feeling settle on his chest, the one that dared him to cry at every little thing.

"Sorry." Jed pretended to scratch an itch on his face so that he could wipe any sudden tears with his sleeve. "I… I say stupid shit. All the time."

Sawyer didn't speak for an awkwardly long moment, then hung his head. "...it's whatever. I'm just being a dick. It's not some kind of competition on who's got it worse. Sorry."

They were both silent, both trying to bury their emotions, before Sawyer shook his head, took a deep breath, and gave Jed a grin.

"Sorry for ruining the mood. I'm good. I'm fine." Sawyer threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot. "Are you gonna explain the conman thing?"

"It… ain't complicated." Jed started fidgeting with his hair. "Whatever you need, my dad'll get it, and it'll be shit quality, but it'll last long enough for him to get out of town before you kill him. Unless you're an addict, I guess. The addicts like him."

"You're surprisingly… what's the word?" Sawyer stopped for a second and smirked. "Forthcoming."

Jed slapped a hand over his mouth. He was stupid, stupid, stupid. He had no reason to be so quick to trust Sawyer.

"Please don't tell your dad," Jed said quickly. "I'd get fuckin' killed for runnin' my mouth like that."

"I wasn't gonna," Sawyer reassured, though the smirk was still playing on his lips. "I promise. You can calm down."

Jed took a deep breath, pulling at his ponytail as hard as he could to ground him. He could feel strands of hair coming away in his hand, but it stopped the heavy feeling from overwhelming him, so he kept doing it and ignored the pain.

"It's not like he doesn't deserve to get fucked over," Sawyer said, staring at the ground. "It'll be funny! Until he takes it out on me, probably. But it'll totally be worth another black eye just to see his face."

Jed saw Sawyer's nonchalant attitude as the suppression it was, let go of his hair, and tried to lighten things up. "I'm… kinda hopin' he actually kills my dad. Someone's gotta do it eventually, right?"

He hated the shit that came out of his mouth sometimes.

But Sawyer laughed anyway, loudly and sharply, while he was fumbling with something in his pocket. "What are you gonna do if he does?"

"I dunno…" Jed trailed off a little, and only realised he'd stopped after it had been too long to cover it up, so he just finished quickly. "Fuck off somewhere. Settle down. Change my name. Let him get picked apart by vultures. Somethin' like that."

"Not a bad plan." Sawyer didn't act like he had even noticed Jed had stopped talking. He just flicked open his cigarette box again and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter, then held it out to Jed. "Want one?"

Jed shook his head. "I don't think my dad would like it if I came back smellin' like smoke."

"You're gonna anyway if you're hanging out with me," Sawyer shrugged, and waved the box insistently. "Come on. You didn't say you didn't want it."

After a moment of hesitation, Jed sighed, got to his feet, and took it. "Are… are you gonna smoke another one right now?"

"Yeah." Sawyer fiddled with his lighter again, trying to get it to spark. "Might as well. It's a distraction."

"Why'd you start?" Jed asked.

Sawyer finally got it to work, and lit his cigarette. "Why do you think? Here you go."

"Fair." Jed took the lighter and did the same before he handed it back. "Thanks."

Jed took a long drag of the cigarette, spluttered, then coughed violently, scattering the smoke and causing Sawyer to break into laughter.

"Maybe breathe in a little less," Sawyer grinned. "You're gonna turn your lungs black on your first cigarette."

Jed glared at him, but the anger disappeared when Sawyer stopped laughing so hard and gave him a sympathetic smile instead.

"Try it like this." Sawyer put his cigarette to his lips, inhaled for a second, then breathed out. "Take it slow."

Jed folded his arms, but copied Sawyer, settled against the wall again, and let the nicotine run through his blood. "It ain't my first cigarette, y'know."

"Sure it isn't." Sawyer smirked at him. "When's the last time you smoked one, then?"

"...when I was fifteen." Jed had to think about it for a moment. "Didn't do it again, though."

Sawyer paused, and smiled awkwardly. "'Cause your dad, right?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"It's… fine." Jed offered a genuine smile, and it seemed to make Sawyer feel better. "Really."

Talking with Sawyer was coming surprisingly easy to Jed, and for once he didn't feel like he was getting judged for… being the way he was.

"That makes me think, actually, how old are you?" Sawyer asked. "I'm nineteen in July."

Jed laughed oddly to himself, the sound he always found himself making when he didn't want his voice to crack like he was about to cry. "I'm seventeen."

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. "You made that sound weird."

"Nah, it's just…" Jed kicked the wall with his heel absentmindedly. "Today's actually my birthday."

"Huh." Sawyer frowned. "Why are you here instead of celebrating it?"

"I don't think my dad even knows when my birthday is." Jed nearly snapped his cigarette between his fingers. "It don't matter, anyway. I've never celebrated it."

"Don't be like that." Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Come on, we gotta do something. Like… we could go steal all the drink my dad got last week."

Jed stared at him. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Sawyer shrugged. "He's probably gonna beat the shit out of me later anyway. Might as well give him a reason, right?"

"I… I dunno about pissin' him off like that."

"I piss him off by being alive." Sawyer put a hand on Jed's shoulder, and Jed felt an odd flutter in his chest. "And I won't let him get you, cross my heart."

Jed glanced aside and shrugged as casually as he could, then dropped his burned-through cigarette. "Fuck it, why not?"

Sawyer punched the air and grinned. "Now THAT is the fucking spirit!"

Jed couldn't help but smile too.

[whumphours]

the big backstory dump is turning out surprisingly long... it has a mind of its own!! it's getting out of hand!!

[whumphours]

Exhilarating

Ash gets cut up. Sawyer's having fun.

tagging local problematic fave @crowned-avery

Warnings: Creepy/intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, knife whump, lots of blood, branding (but. with a knife), slight dehumanisation (referring to the whumpee as an object/toy), noncon touching (not sexual but. creepy.), some begging, vagueish noncon references

Ash's face was buried in Sawyer's neck, and he could feel Ash's harsh breaths dance on his skin. He dragged the knife across his toy's collarbone, and nails dug into the front of his shirt as Ash screamed, the sound sending a beautifully chilling feeling down his spine.

"God, I've missed this," Sawyer grinned. "I hate being so busy."

Ash was curled into Sawyer's lap on the kitchen floor, wearing nothing but a pair of tattered, newly bloodstained jeans. Sawyer didn't mind much if his own clothes had blood on them, most of them did, so sitting like this just gave him the easiest access to his little living canvas.

Scars that had finally been given a chance to heal were open, blood dripping down Ash's heaving chest. The few days of respite he'd had were worthless - he should have known Sawyer would make up for lost time.

He ran his left hand down Ash's side, resting it on Ash's hip to pull him closer. Ash whined, so soft that Sawyer almost didn't hear it. But he felt it, and he smiled, and kissed the top of Ash's head, searching for somewhere to put the knife while he paused.

"It's okay," he said, settling the blade under Ash's chin. "You're doing good, so, so good. Keep doing that for me. Just relax, okay?"

"Please," Ash mumbled, shaking fingers clinging onto the fabric of Sawyer's clothes. "Please, I c-can't take any- anymore-"

"Shh, sweetheart," Sawyer whispered. "No begging, not tonight. I just wanna hear those little sounds you make."

Ash whined as the point of the knife drew blood from his jaw, before Sawyer pulled it away.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna cut you there," he chuckled, free hand now curled around the back of Ash's neck in some semblance of comfort. "Wouldn't wanna fuck up your pretty face… I've got so many other uses for it..."

He placed the knife onto an unmarked part of Ash's skin, between his ribs, and slowly curved it back towards his sternum. Ash cried out and tried to squirm away, but Sawyer's grip on the back of his neck tightened.

"Still," he growled, and Ash curled his fists tighter and pressed himself into Sawyer's body, trying to control his trembling. "Come on, sweetheart, don't make me hurt you more."

A sob escaped Ash's lips. "It, it h-hurts, I can't- please, don't, don't make it, it worse, please-"

"Look at me."

Ash didn't move an inch.

"Ash. You're testing my fucking patience."

The moment the knife was on Ash's throat, he looked up, eyes not quite focused on Sawyer's own.

"That's twice now you haven't listened to me," Sawyer said, gently running his hand through Ash's tangled hair. "You were doing so well and you had to go and ruin it."

It wasn't as much of a threat as it sounded, but goddamn, did Sawyer love how Ash's eyes widened, and he curled up tighter against Sawyer, trying to elicit some kind of sympathy from him.

"I'm- I'm sorry-"

The tip of Sawyer's blade was pressed flat against Ash's lips, and he shut his mouth with a quiet squeak.

"Y'know, I've been thinking for a while I should do something a little more interesting to you..." Sawyer mused. "This is such a good opportunity… hm… oh."

Sawyer's eyes practically glowed with excitement, but all he let show on his face was a calm, cheerful smirk, as his hand wrapped around Ash's thin wrist.

Ash nodded silently, and Sawyer let him bury himself back into the crook of Sawyer's neck. God, he looked fucking perfect like that.

"Now," Sawyer lifted the knife, and Ash gasped in relief. "You're gonna stay still. 'Cause if you make me fuck this up, I'm not gonna play nice anymore."

When he'd cleaned up the blood, he just wanted to…

Sawyer inhaled.

He placed the point of the blade on Ash's forearm, and couldn't help but smile when Ash screamed as he started to carve into the skin. The vibrations of the sound, the way Ash was trying desperately to keep still, the feeling of a knife gliding over skin… if he didn't have to let Ash heal for a few weeks, he would do this all the time.

The blood was turning his hands red. Ash's tears were soaking him. Strangled whimpers and whines were like music to his ears.

Fucking exhilarating.

Sawyer exhaled, and let the knife clatter to the floor.

Slowly, he lifted Ash's arm above his head, in an effort to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. He was sure he'd done it well, but with blood going everywhere, he couldn't tell yet.

After a minute or two had passed, the wound had stopped bleeding, and Ash had stopped shaking so much. Sawyer, as gently as he could, brushed the thick layer of blood away, until the letters S. J. were visible, carefully carved on Ash's arm like they were on the wooden handle of his flintlock.

"Fuck, I like that," Sawyer grinned. "Take a look, sweetheart."

Ash turned his head a little, and choked back more tears when he saw it.

"I should've done this sooner," Sawyer said, thumb brushing over the initials, wondering how nicely it would scar. "I wanna just... hang you up next to the rest of my stuff. Like some fucked up art. God. It's too bad you look so cute underneath me."

Anger crossed Ash's face for the briefest of moments, and Sawyer pretended he didn't see it as Ash wordlessly hid his face in Sawyer's body once again. Sawyer wrapped an arm around him in and held him close in what was actually supposed to be comfort this time, feeling the drying blood stick to his shirt.

[whumphours]

I didn't think royalty whump was my jam but I cannot get this scene idea out of my head..

-

Whumpee is bruised and bloody, it trickles down their face from a split eyebrow and any onlooker could see that their nose is broken. Whumper is delighted by the sight of the damage they caused, then they gingerly place the Whumpee's crown back on their head with a grin.

"There, all better.. Your Majesty."

[whumphours]

vampire whump go brr

[whumphours]

okay I'm joining the shock what do you MEAN Rossi is 24?????? like????? no no he has too much presence. too much power. you have affected us all deeply by revealing this information. - Rory

I love that THIS is where you all draw the line with Rossi. The kidnapping? Fine. The murders? No big deal. BUT GOD FORBID THE MAN BE YOUNG 😂

I mean he comes from an incredibly powerful family and proves himself to be extremely capable of wielding that kind of power at a young age so it makes sense in my head and here this is my reality, y’all are just spiralling in it 😌

[whumphours]

Guilt

Ash isn't dead (yet), and meets someone who might be more connected to him than he realises.

Tagging @crowned-avery

Warnings: Lots of blood and guns, bleeding out, field medicine (makeshift tourniquet), very reluctant caretaker

There was a trail of blood where Ash had walked, and all he could really do was hope that it didn't lead Sawyer right to him.

Leaning against a half-demolished wall, Ash slid to the ground, lungs burning, arm hanging uselessly at his side. He had nothing but his hand to staunch the bleeding, and it wasn't helping much. Once the adrenaline had worn off, it would have made him scream if he was able, but now it was just numb.

Ash looked up at the sky, where the sun was starting to rise. He was tired now. It would be easy to fall asleep here. But he knew if he did, he wouldn't wake up again, so he propped himself up on his functioning arm, and tried to stand. He couldn't wait. He couldn't stop.

He held tightly onto the wall, and pushed forward.

When he managed to focus his vision long enough to look ahead of him, he noticed someone walking along the same road. His back was turned, so he had no idea Ash was there. Ash pulled the gun out of his pocket, and dragged himself towards the man.

He'd already killed someone. This would be easy.

***

Jed was starting to get tired, but he really didn't want another night sleeping out in the open, and the nearest town wasn't that far, so he took a deep breath and kept going.

"You," a voice rasped. "Turn around."

With a frustrated sigh, Jed stopped, and put his arms up. "I've nothin' valuable, so can ya-"

"Just turn around."

Jed did as he was told, then stumbled back. "Jesus, are you okay?"

A kid, with a gushing bullet wound, dark bags under his eyes, and a pissed off look was pointing a gun at him.

Not just any gun. Sawyer's gun.

At least, he was pretty sure from where he was standing.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" the kid demanded.

Jed chewed the scar on his lip. "Yeah."

"Give it to me." The kid shook, almost dropping to the ground right then. "Now."

"It ain't gonna be any use to you with one arm." Jed couldn't rip his eyes from the pistol. "Where'd you get that gun?

"It's mine." Now that was bullshit. "Give me your first aid kit. O-Or I'll shoot you."

"It ain't yours." Jed had seen Sawyer handle that gun often enough to know it wasn't actually loaded, but he kept that to himself. "Where'd you get it?"

"You can ask questions when I'm not fucking bleeding to death!"

Jed paused, and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to get anywhere like this. "Okay. But you're gonna have to let me do it. I'm willin' to bet you don't know how to tie a tourniquet one-handed, and that's what you're gonna need to stop the bleedin'."

The kid's grip on the gun tightened, but he relented. "Fine."

Slowly, Jed approached, and pulled his bag off his shoulders. He grabbed his kit and a bottle of water, and set to work. As much as he wanted a look at the gun, he didn't want to be the reason this kid bled out.

He wrapped a thick piece of cloth just above the kid's wound, tied it, pulled a small knife from his belt, and secured that in place.

"This is gonna hurt like hell," he warned. "Talk to me, try to distract yourself. What's your name?"

"Ash," the kid mumbled, and Jed could feel him trying to force himself not to pull away as Jed tightened the tourniquet around his arm. "Fuck, that h-hurts-"

"I'm Jed." Jed's tone was unnaturally matter-of-fact, but he knew being calm would stop Ash from panicking more. "How old are you?"

"N-Nineteen." Ash grit his teeth. "How much t-tighter?"

"Nearly done," Jed replied. "I'm twenty-six. Take a deep breath."

Ash did as he was told, and swore loudly as Jed pulled it as tight as it would go, and tied it in place. He was still swearing while Jed poured water over the wound and wrapped a few layers of bandages over it.

"There." Jed pulled back a little. "That should do until you get yourself to a doctor."

"Thanks," Ash hissed, still unable to focus on anything except how much pain he was in. "O-Okay. Leave me alone."

Jed raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know where you're goin'?"

"It's not your fucking problem," Ash spat. "Go away. I'll- I'll shoot you. I will."

Jed sighed. "I know it ain't loaded."

"Of course it's loaded." For what it was worth, Ash was a pretty good liar. "I'm not gonna threaten you with an empty gun."

"It ain't." Jed held out a hand. "Give it here."

"No!"

Ash hadn't even closed his mouth by the time Jed had wrestled the gun from him and taken several steps back, holding it up to get a better look. Jed saw Ash reach for it out of the corner of his eye, and grabbed his revolver from his belt, nonchalantly pointing it in Ash's direction.

"Don't try it, kid." Jed didn't even look up. "Unless you want two useless arms."

Ash's hand curled into a fist, but he didn't get any closer.

"Good choice." Jed brushed over the handle, where Sawyer's initials were still as clear as the day Jed had watched him carve them. "Don't make me ask again. Where'd you get this?"

Ash glared at the ground. "It's mine."

Pointedly, Jed pulled at the trigger of his revolver, though very gently, so that it wouldn't go off. "What did I just say?"

Ash whimpered softly, though his anger didn't fade a bit. "I stole it."

Jed laughed. "Oh, come on. It's really just lie after lie, huh?"

"I'm not lying," Ash snapped.

"If you were tellin' the truth, you'd be fuckin' dead." Jed almost couldn't believe Sawyer's fucking gun was in his hand. "You don't just steal from Sawyer and get away with it."

"...how do you know Sawyer?" Ash asked.

Jed gestured vaguely with his revolver, and didn't actually answer the question. "Come on. How'd you get it?"

"I fucking stole it." Ash was losing any patience he ever had. "He was asleep, and I took it 'cause it'd piss him off, and then he shot me. So yeah, I should be dead. Give it back."

"He shot you? Shit." Jed finally looked at him, and smirked. "Alright. I believe you. You got balls, kid, runnin' off with this thing."

"Thanks," Ash spat, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Can I have it back now?"

"Sure." Jed shrugged, and threw Sawyer's gun back to Ash, who just barely caught it against his chest. "I only wanted to see it. Sawyer's gonna be lookin' for it, anyway, and I ain't leadin' him right to me. Good luck, kid. Don't get killed, or whatever."

Ash shoved it back in his pocket. "Appreciate the encouragement, dickhead."

Jed just laughed at that, and turned to leave.

He'd only gotten a few steps away before he heard the sound of Ash hitting the ground.

Of course he'd passed out. He'd probably been bleeding out all morning, and the pain wouldn't have helped. He was exhausted and likely hadn't eaten in days. And he was absolutely not Jed's problem.

But Jed sighed, turned around, and tried to lift Ash in a more comfortable and hopefully less painful position for when he woke up again. He'd already saved the kid's life, and figured he might as well not make it any harder for Ash to survive, even if Sawyer was probably going to find him before he woke up.

Still, Jed didn't consider that his problem. Until he tried to move Ash's injured arm into a better position, and saw the scars almost obscured by all the blood that had begun drying on Ash's skin.

S. J.

Neater, more careful, and much better healed than the initials on Jed's arm, but undeniably, Sawyer had marked Ash, and it gave Jed a lot of context that he did not want to deal with.

"Fuck," Jed cursed under his breath. "You piece of shit. You fuckin' bastard, I should've fuckin' killed you when I had the chance…"

He couldn't stop imagining it, all the awful things he'd ever experienced at Sawyer's hands happening to Ash, this poor fucking kid, and his heart was sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

Every single cautious instinct that Jed had was overridden, and he hoisted Ash up on his shoulder, almost glad that he was unconscious, so that Jed didn't have to deal with him crying about how much it hurt.

He didn't care about Ash. Jed Ellis didn't care about anyone, and that was the way he wanted to keep it.

But Jed knew that whatever Sawyer would do if he found Ash alive, that he'd almost certainly already subjected the kid to a thousand times over, would be much, much worse than killing him, and Jed's stupid, burdened conscience couldn't carry much more guilt than it already did.

He could save this kid, and it would be maybe the only good thing he had done in his entire life.

So he started walking. He knew the town had a doctor that could patch Ash up much better than he ever could.

[whumphours]

Whump Aesthetics: Collars

they're so possessive. a declaration. you're mine.

a whumper gently tugging on the whumpee's collar - a warning? a way to pull them closer? a reminder?

thick leather. cold metal. spiked. with a little dog tag. with a cute charm. inscribed with their name. attached to a chain - locking them to a wall? in the whumper's hand? tugging them around?

grabbing the whumpee by the collar. lifting them to their feet? pressing them against a wall? just holding it, reminding them that they could pull on it any time?

pulling the whumpee from behind and choking them with the collar

a constant sensation around the whumpee's neck - do they ever get used to it? do they ever get used to having it off?

yeah <3

[whumphours]

I HAVE 101 FOLLOWERS??? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN???

[whumphours]

I've been getting new followers like. oh damn I should actually post huh XD I'll try make some more prompt posts to fill in time between me actually writing

[whumphours]

I've been getting new followers like. oh damn I should actually post huh XD I'll try make some more prompt posts to fill in time between me actually writing

[whumphours]

"You're bruised."

"You like when I'm bruised."

Whumper grabbed Whumpee by the throat, pinned them to the wall and sneered in their face.

"I like when I've bruised you." They pressed a thumb into the dark ring around Whumpee's neck, unable to even relish the flinch and gasp from pain that they didn't have a hand in causing.

"Now tell me who."

// w. @zoewhumps