#combat whump

[hold-on-a-little-longer-whump]

Whump & Carries/Drags

After going down that Combat Medic rabbit hole, allow me to put heavy emphasis on the one-person drag. Specifically, the Neck Drag pictured at the bottom right of this image.

Yes, we see the support carry, arm drag, and pack-strap carry very frequently in fiction. I would really, really like to see the Neck Drag used more frequently (please do hmu if you have written or read something with this drag being used <3).

The neck drag is when the injured party clasps their hands together behind the medic's neck, or the medic ties their hands together if they're unconscious. The medic then bear crawls forward until cover or safety is reached, where they can change to an easier carry or drag position, address immediate medical needs, or get carrying assistance from another medic. If the injured party is heavy, the medic would have to crawl forward in short bursts (almost like a scooting motion).

This makes for a very uncomfortable but effective way of extraction for the injured party. Now, if you like romantic tension when writing, this is a great form of forced proximity because the characters are practically on top of one another for the entire duration of this carry - not to mention the medic has to straddle the injured party at the start. Obviously they would have more pressing matters in mind, but us writers are all the same and you know it <3

So, take this idea and run with it! I already mentioned this resource in a previous post, but I'll share it again if you want to see more details. It's very helpful for writing research! Plus there are video demonstrations on how to apply different types of tourniquets, and of course the different carries and drags like the ones mentioned above.

Ran out of brain juice, so I'll stop here. I'm serious about recs with the neck drag though!

[hey-that-hurt]

AvA: The Box Whump Gif Compilation Part 1

Spoilers ahead!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: A Truly Slothful Start

*points at Erebus* Bro is NOT built for this lmao (btw I drew the sloth demon a v long time ago enjoy)

Suggested battle music: Grandma (Destruction) from NieR: Automata (spotify | youtube)

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Ingredients: combat whump we fight monster, amputation hehe (not gory tho!), slight drowning, undescribed eye whump

PART III: Untitled World

The things that hit him first were the suffocating darkness and the awful chill in the air.

Erebus knew he didn’t belong here. All around him, strange rock formations jutted out every which way, no sign of life among them. There didn’t seem to be any source of light, and yet everything was clearly visible, casting hardly any shadow. The silence was nearly absolute, pressing in on his ears. The only thing he could hear was the freakishly loud sound of his own heartbeat, amplified by the collar around his neck.

Wait, the collar-he reached up for it, fingers closing around the awful strip of leather that he’d been forced to wear since the start of his captivity. He had a sword, he had claws, and N...no one would make him wear another one if he broke it. So he should take it off, right? He should destroy it. He’d always hated it, the way it meant he was owned, how it let-let people put leashes on him and lead him around like a dog. She...she’d said it herself, that he had to wear it so he wouldn’t forget that he belonged to her, but now they were...not together. So it shouldn’t matter. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about when she’d taken it off for the procedure with the envy demon, about how utterly, embarrassingly exposed he’d felt without that stupid collar. Maybe the feeling would pass, and he would just have to get used to being without it. He hadn’t worn one for the vast majority of his life, so it should be easy to adjust back, right? Besides, it was more than just a collar, it was a way for her to know if someone other than her was touching him, and that was violating, it was...it was a way for her to know he was alive. Assuming it worked, assuming whatever signal it was could be sent to another world.

Erebus lowered his hands, still chained together, as he blinked away tears. He-he was really here, in this other world with only a slim chance of ever going back. He’d take every tie to his old life he could get, no matter how painful. And if the spell on the collar worked, then…he owed it to her to let her know he was still alive. He could wear the collar for a little while longer. The muzzle, on the other hand...he didn’t mind tearing that off and throwing it away in the slightest.

Shakily, he stood, grabbing the sheathed sword in front of him. Being expected to fight was…strange. But, looking at himself now, he was practically designed for this, almost every modification giving him some sort of advantage. It made his blood run cold to think about how this had been the plan from the start, how obvious it seemed now. He wanted to lay down and sob and process what had happened, but everything was so different and strange that he didn’t feel safe enough to let his guard down like that. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he buckled the sword belt around his waist and began looking around.

Behind where he’d appeared, there was a bag lying on the ground. Inside was a cloak with holes for his wings, a knife, and a bedroll. Well, better than nothing, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about food and water or lighting a fire. Maybe that demon tongue would be coming in handy, after all. He put on the cloak, grateful to have something to help him keep warm in this place, along with the shoes he still had on from their trip to the desert.

Nothing else here, he began carefully making his way along one of the stone cliffs, leaning on it since there had never been a chance to fully heal the gash in his leg. Progress was slow, and maybe it would have been a good time to think things through, but he couldn’t stop tears from forming in his eyes at the mere thought of what had happened, so instead he just focused on the pain in his leg, flaring up brighter with every step.

Time felt impossible to grasp, as if this place was outside of it entirely, but at some point Erebus reached the end of the maze of stone. He was greeted with what looked like a vast ocean, but the water was unnaturally calm, not a single ripple on the glass-like surface. Had there been stars above, it would have been beautiful, but under the canopy of uniform blackness, it just looked like a cold, empty void. 

Erebus hesitated to step out in the open, no walls to protect him, but the silence was so absolute that he couldn’t imagine there was another living thing anywhere near him. His leg didn’t hurt quite as much anymore despite how much he’d been walking, so he was able to hobble to the water’s edge and investigate, setting the pack down to make moving around a little easier. The sword, however, still hung at his side, just in case. 

The water was clear, and as far as he could tell, there was no sign of life in it whatsoever. It was jarringly different from the seaside at home, where you could hardly take a step without spotting a shellfish or aquatic plant. Here, it was just pebbles, no broken shells or bits of dead coral among them. He crouched and dipped a finger in, finding the water both cold and salty. The ripples created by his finger traveled far, seeming to get bigger as they traveled along. Suddenly, even bigger ripples rushed to meet them from farther out, and Erebus’s stomach knotted in terror as he bolted upright, pulling out the sword, having to hold it with both hands since they were still chained.

He strained his eyes in the darkness, looking for whatever had caused the disturbance. Was that...there was something  in the water out there, he was sure of it. He took a few steps back, sword still held in front of him, watching the strange shape grow larger and larger as it approached. The moment the tip of its nose emerged, the surface of the water erupted, spraying Erebus with cold mist and shooting tendrils out into the open air that coalesced into a large sort of web. Arches of water now crisscrossed all throughout the space, severely limiting how much he could fly around, especially since he never had a chance to practice it much. In the middle of the watery network was a large bubble, and when he saw what was inside it, Erebus’s jaw dropped.

The creature was enormous, big enough to swallow him whole in one bite. Its pale gray body was long, with two pairs of flippers that were almost as big as Erebus and a webbed, spiny ridge going down its back. A cruel, curved hook jutted out from the end of its tail, almost as sharp-looking as its conical teeth. As Erebus looked at it in horror, it turned its gaze to him, its blank white eyes staring into his own identical pair. So this…this must be a sloth demon. He was supposed to fight that? 

He could leave, just run and hide, this thing couldn’t follow him through those rocky canyons, he could stop and take a moment to think, but this was an enemy right in front of him, and no matter how terrifying, it had revealed itself, no more surprises. Erebus tightened his grip. If he could-could beat this thing then he could really rest. It would be safe here. He would be that much closer to going h…somewhere that wasn’t here. He could do this. He had to.

Despite how much he was shaking, Erebus took flight and approached, finding it difficult to do so while he was holding the sword, but not enough for him to fall out of the air. The demon just watched as he flew past the jets of water, and Erebus hated those blank white eyes boring into him, which just made him loathe his own all that much more. How…how exactly was he supposed to attack it? It was so huge and he couldn’t see any kind of obvious weakness, not to mention that it was surrounded by a sphere of water. While he knew his eyes worked underwater, he could only imagine his wings would be a hindrance, not to mention the heavy sword. 

Maybe…maybe he should just retreat for now. Come up with a plan and come back. This was just…it was too much. Reassuring himself that the demon couldn’t follow him, he cautiously turned around and started to weave his way through the tendrils of-there was a sharp jerk on his wing, and suddenly Erebus was being dragged through the air, crashing into pillars of water as he went, barely registering the splash of his sword hitting the sea below as he scrambled to get his wing free of-of-it was that hook it was pierced through the top of Erebus’s wing he couldn’t get it out his fingers were slippery and freezing and useless he had to do something kick his legs flap his wings anything-

Just as those awful teeth came into view, Erebus managed to swing himself back, but the chain on his wrists was caught, wrapped around a tooth, his fall jerked to a halt, he was hanging by his wrists, the hook was gone but his wing wouldn’t work, he had to do something, that eye was so big and so close, watching him struggle, the beast’s throat humming with an ancient growl, hungry, he couldn’t just let this happen, he grabbed the tooth with his left hand and the chain with his right, he could do this, pull himself up enough to-

The great jaws snapped shut, and Erebus tumbled into the water below. 

Cold shocked his system, despite the fact that his left arm felt like it was on fire. 

He couldn’t stay down here. He had to get to the surface.

But, down there, a faint glint. Metal. His sword. His only hope of winning.

He swam towards it, progress slow and painful and-

His left hand was gone. 

There wasn’t time to mourn it. 

His remaining hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. It was heavy, too heavy for him to swim up with. 

He was running out of air. He had to try. This couldn’t be the end. Not here. Not so soon after-

The hook pierced through his wing again, and it was all he could do to hold onto his sword this time around.

The sloth demon pulled him up and out of the water with its tail, tossing him high into the air as it opened its great jaws to swallow him whole. His wings torn and useless, all Erebus could do was flap them desperately and hope it would be enough, hope he could at least-his foot landed on one of those teeth, holding him for just a moment before he slipped, but it was enough to aim his sword hold it steady launch himself down drive that point right down into the demon’s eye paint that awful soulless white with red hear the roar of agony so loud he could feel it in his bones and now the water was collapsing falling back down the great corpse falling with it he had to get away wrench the sword out jump back splash into the water struggle to the surface to the shore drag himself out of the water collapse on the shore and breathe.

He-he’d won, but just barely, and the losses were-Erebus bit back tears, looking away from the ragged stump at the end of his left arm. There was no way he could survive six more fights like that.

This horrible, hostile place was going to destroy him, and there would be nothing left of him to go back home.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump @suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryreads​

[kittykatninja321]

Listen I am not opposed to a little bit of babygirlifying my favorite blorbo but when you start nerfing their canon skills for the sake of whump or woobifaction is where I draw the line. He would NOT fold that easily in that situation

[featherlovesrobots]

THE PARALLELS BETWEEN JOURNEY AND JJ I CAN'T

Hi Seth!!!! I love your blog!!!

Okay so this isn't really a "prompt" per se but it is a request. I think you mentioned having some WWE fics you never posted? Could we see one? I miss Morri and JJ

That's so sweet ;-;; and I have one then, for you!! I hope this is satisfactory, and I'll happily write and post more if you'd like :D

Whumperless Whump Event day 27, prompt: Concussion

whumpee JJ. slight emeto mention. tw blood and graphic violence

--

When Journey resurfaces, his ears are ringing like a dial tone.

Fuck. Fuck. Two hands up, protecting his face as he reels back against the wall. God, what even hit him? 

Journey presses his back onto the concrete and steadies himself, peaking through his eyes--his sinuses feel like fire inside of his face. He blocks the next hit with his forearm and nearly sobs when something cracks. He blinks, hard, to clear his vision through the red pouring down the side of his face.

Three guys. One has a knife, two with classic security batons. There's someone unconscious on the floor. He can only be grateful it's not him.

"We can talk--" he spits blood, throws his palm into the knife guy's sternum, shoving him back, "--about this, let's take a rest--"

The response is a baton careening into his jaw. The screaming in his ear goes completely isolated. There's no other sounds. 

Journey shakes his head. "'Kay, playin' dirty," he mutters, surprised to find his words slurring into each other. "Lemme see that."

He grabs the baton and rips it from the guard's hand, flipping it and slamming its handle deep into his stomach. The guy drops to his knees, cradling his guts. 

"This is fun," he says appreciatively. His own weapon, the crowbar he found, is halfway down the slate gray hall. "C'mere, let's test it out."

Autopilot kicks in. Thank God for muscle memory. He disarms Knife Guy with two hits to the side and the back of the neck, and the other guy goes down from a punch to the nose.

Journey drops the baton. JJ falls the floor with it. 

His knees hit, palms forward to steady him, and even then he sways, clinging to reality and consciousness with two bloody bare hands. 

"Morri," he gasps. The ringing isn't gone. He can barely hear their voice through the earpiece.

"Journey. I've got access to Appleton's accounts, copied the information down, and I'm searching his office now for the blueprints. He's lacking in any sort of technological security."

"Clearly not physical security," he half-laughs, half sobs, pulling at his ears to try and make the sound stop. "Got my shit wrecked. Twelfth... uh. Corridor. Maybe thirteenth?"

"Stay where you are." Morrigan's voice switches from mission to their own type of concern, clipped words and strong tone. "Can you see any numbers on the doors to confirm?"

JJ glances up, and the lights pierce his eyes like a firework. He flinches back, sitting on his heels and covering his face. "Can't."

"I'll find you. Stay put."

Fuck, it hurts. The ringing pushes deep into his eyes and ears, the lights are too bright. In an attempt to sit upright, his palm slips on the floor and he nearly lands face first, stomach roiling from the onslaught of dizziness. This is bad, he knows it's bad. He can't think.

Stay awake. Stay awake, because if you fall asleep, you're dead. You've got a...

What's the word?

JJ's had one before. When he was a kid. Tripped, dove for a dodge ball, slammed his head so hard into the side of the bleachers he was out like a light. It didn't take long to bounce back. What did they say he had? What was the word...

"--ney, hey, wake up."

Morrigan. He turns bleary eyes upwards, to meet their haloed, foggy silhouette. "Hiya."

"Don't talk." Their face is... warm. Eyebrows raised, expression loose. They're putting effort into making the situation less scary, they're lightening the mood, that takes concentration. It's intentional.

That's how he knows it's bad. Because Morrigan is trying to keep him calm. 

"'s bad, huh?" He says, trying to push himself up. Again, his hand slips. Something is coating his fingers. He can't get a grip, get up, get going--

Morrigan is there, immediately, swinging an arm over their shoulders and supporting him entirely. "I have you, but we need to leave now."

"Mkay. What if..." he loses his train of thought, chasing after it in the recesses of his addled mind, and catches it just barely before he forgets entirely what he was talking about. "Bad guys? I c'n fight."

"...good," Morrigan says, decisively. "But I'll take care of it. Don't need you getting more injured."

"Smart. You're so smart, Morri," he slurs, leaning heavier on them, somehow despite them basically carrying him down the halls now.

"Shh," they say soothingly. "Quiet."

"Kay." He sees the something that coated his hands back on the floor leaving a red stain on their white jacket. "No, Morri, I messed up--"

"You have to stay quiet."

"But--"

"I will knock you out again," they say, hefting him up on their shoulders more, sending a shock through his spine and into his head. "Shush."

JJ would respond, but he's quite busy trying to keep the bile that suddenly rose in his throat from escaping. He already stained Morri's coat once. He refuses to do it again.

He lets Morri lead him. Carry him. There's no chance his feet slipping on the floor are helping whatsoever. Part of him hates it, despises how useless he is, all from a smack on the head.

Part of him is just grateful he's going home.

--

here you are, anon! I hope you enjoy. thanks so much for your support 💙

[urlocalwhumper]

living weapon whumpee who's never known anything but pain and violence.

their existence hurts. they were made to be effective, not happy, and their masters decided that keeping them in constant pain provided better results. they're wilder, more unpredictable, and the pain keeps them from thinking straight enough to question anything.

they're only given painkillers, only allowed a respite from their seemingly endless suffering, after a successful mission. it keeps them loyal, and most importantly, teaches their brain to associate acts of violence with relief and rewards.

everyone they've ever met has treated them as a tool, a monster, or both. they don't know how to be anything else.

that is until they're rampaging through a village, destroying, killing, whatever their masters demand of them. whatever will give them a few blissful hours of numbness.

one of the villagers steps out of a ruined building and looks them straight in the eyes. whumpee expects fear, hatred, disgust, the things they see in the faces of every person who's ever crossed their path. but they see something completely different.

compassion.

whumpee is so stunned, they don't think to move or do anything at all as the villager steps closer, gently reaching out a hand to cup whumpee's face.

"oh, poor thing." they murmur, taking in the creature in front of them - part human, part animal, part machine. "they've done a number on you, huh?"

whumpee blinks at them. pain continues to course through their body, but the gentle hand on their cheek distracts them, even if just a little. all the indistinct noise in their foggy, addled mind finally goes quiet.

caretaker had stepped out in front of the being destroying their home with the intention to get through to it or die trying, and the expectation to absolutely die trying.

they did not at all expect the seemingly feral mishmash of metal, fur, and flesh to lean so heavily into their touch that they nearly collapsed into caretaker's arms.

[justkidneying]

When to Punch Someone in the Throat (probably never)

I see throat punches in media sometimes, and I wanted to explain why this is such a devastating (and illegal) move. Throat punches are no joke. I've always been taught that in the same way you would never point a gun at something you don't want to kill, you would never punch someone in the throat that you didn't want to kill.

Structure of the throat: the anterior part of the throat is very tender and unprotected. Out front you have the trachea, and behind that you have the esophagus. The thyroid cartilage (this is your Adam's apple) sits at the level of your voice box (larynx). About an inch above that, usually hiding up in your jawline, is the hyoid bone.

The Hyoid Bone: this is a horseshoe-shaped bone that freely sits in the anterior part of the neck (it's not connected to any other bone). It protects the airway, helps maintain neck posture, and assists with chewing, tongue movement, swallowing, and speaking. It's really bad to fracture this bone.

Throat Trauma: with any anterior neck trauma, there is going to be a lot of bruising (ecchymosis) and swelling (edema) in the laryngeal tissue. This swelling can compromise the airway, and the person can literally just die from that. If the force is in the right place and great enough, the hyoid bone will fracture. The bone will usually be fractured in several places. This is likely to also cause asphyxiation. You may also see hemoptysis (coughing up blood).

*I want to note that in strangulation injuries, the hyoid bone is commonly fractured. However, it's only found in 1/3 of homicides from strangulation. *

Timeline: okay, so obviously, the person may just grab their throat, choke, and die. But do you wanna know the part that freaks me out? The fact that patients can be asymptomatic for up to 72 hours (THREE FUCKING DAYS!!!). That's scary because the patient can be fine, they think they just have some bruising and a little swelling, then their throat starts spasming and they die of asphyxiation (crazy, right??).

Fighting: okay, back to fighting. Throat punches are not allowed in any combat sport, not even in no-holds barred (unless it's some weird kumite where you can kill your opponent). But, in normal combat sport this doesn't usually even happen on accident, because most people 1) tuck their chin and 2) know not to EVER punch someone in the neck. If it does happen, people will probably talk about it (like when a rabbit punch is thrown).

The only time I have seen a throat punch is with a kids' class (like 4-8 year olds) and that habit was quickly corrected. I think the only time it is ever appropriate would be in a life-or-death situation, but depending on the laws in your area I have no idea if it would be legal then (because you're probably going to kill that person).

Anyways, main point: don't punch people in the throat, like, ever. They may die, even if it is three days later.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

I need to see mr interrogator tied up!

You don’t understand

I NEED THEM

They’re so fine

the people have spoken

(forgot to tag the test track crowd I am sorry)

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @suspicious-whumping-egg , @cryptidwritings @whumpflash , @painsandconfusion , @grizzlie70 , @bloodsweatandpotato , @ladyblogofficialreporter @whumper-soot , @poeticagony

[mynightingalecomplex]

Poor Doc. I love him and his huge schnoz.

Combat! S3E7 Operation Fly Trap (Doc II whumping!!!!!!!!!)

[delicatewhumps]

dying on a battlefield is such a good form of whump. is caretaker comforting someone from the other side? some enemy soldier who lies scared and bleeding out? does caretaker kneel by them and take their hand and promise that they won’t die alone?

or is whumpee caretaker’s companion? are they brothers in arms? has caretaker fought by whumpee’s side for months, and now accompanies them on their final journey — the one into death?

does the battle still rage on around them? is it violent and loud, and caretaker has to bend down and speak into whumpee’s ear in order to be heard, all the while hoping to avoid the ammo whizzing through the air?

or have things died down? is the battlefield covered in blood and corpses? is whumpee one of the last soldiers left alive, fighting valiantly to hold on, but soon to succumb in caretaker’s arms?

does caretaker make vows? reassurances?

that whumpee will be okay. that caretaker will pass on a message to whumpee’s family. that the battle will be won. that whumpee fought bravely.

does caretaker ask questions? is whumpee a stranger whose memory caretaker wishes to keep alive?

“what is your name?” “what do your friends call you?” “what would you have become, if you hadn’t followed this path?” “what waits for you at home?” “what brings you peace?”

or do they simply sit in silence? does caretaker press a tender kiss to whumpee’s forehead and caress their bloody face, because no words can fix this situation, and caretaker’s presence is enough to ease whumpee’s mind?

[whumpy-bi]

“They’ll come for me, you know.”

The officer paces back and forth in front of Whumpee’s cell. They clasp their hands behind their back, suppressing a smirk.

“Who do you think is going to come for you, Whumpee, exactly?” They taunt. “Your general? No, of course not, he’d never risk his own life for such a new recruit. Do you think he’ll send someone? I doubt he’d risk losing personnel to rescue a single child he recruited less than a year ago.”

Whumpee feels their face heating up. “No, you don’t—“

“He isn’t particularly known for rescuing any captives, from my research. Suppose he’d consider it your fault you were captured in the first place.”

Whumpee clenches their jaw and shifts back on their metal cot. They know the officer has a point.

“No doubt, he’s already replaced you. With someone younger and even more eager to throw themselves down for a hopeless cause, I’m sure.”

“I’ll kill you, when I get out of here.”

The officer openly grins. “A compelling argument, Whumpee.” Before they begin to walk away, they hesitate.

“Your interrogation is soon. I’d advise cooperation…after all, they’ve already forgotten about you.”

[hold-on-a-little-longer-whump]

Was researching for my current WIP and found this wealth of knowledge! Link leads to an online resource about tactical combat casualty care. Helpful videos and diagrams are included. I'm only midway through it but boy have I learned some things

[floral-comet-whump]

hello my 22 followers please vote what you'd like the first thing I write to be

(ppl that don't follow me are obviously allowed to as well I just think saying "hello my 22 followers" is funny)

edit: followup to results on third day

these are mainly just character establishing moments!! if walenty is doing the whumpering I'll probably go to one of those fantasy name generators and randomize a few picrews and nekas to get an idea of a character because the whumpee being named "whumpee" while the whumper gets a name is awkward to me

I REACHED 30 TAGS!!! I love tagmaxxing this better reach so many ppl

[saggernooseai]

woof

[whump-kitty]

There's just something about the word remade being used in a whumpy way to me- like "I'm going to remake you" or "I remade you"...there's just something so amazingly permanent about it, something about how the whumper shows, with this, that the whumpee won't be the same ever again, no matter what they do and how much they heal, or whether or not they get rescued... that they'll always be defined by the pain they experience there, whether they like it or not

[99point9percentwhump]

Rolled 🎲: 2

Bromance