#tourniquets

[victimeyez]

For the drabbles thing, has there ever been a moment when Caius has worried that Tommy is dead, either because he or one of their clients took things too far? Im curious to know what his reaction would be, and if he would care at all about losing him.

AHHH thank you so much for the ask! This was fun to write. Nearly losing Tommy made Caius realize for the first time just how much he cared.

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Stay

Part of Professional//Victim

See tags for content warnings

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Things had been going good.Over a year in, and Tommy was a hit. They had enough requests for him to book out the next year, at least. 

So Caius did what he promised himself he would never do: he got sloppy. 

He managed to get Tommy in the car, sprawling him across the back.

“Give me your arm, come on.”

Tommy was breathing shallowly, and his face was ghostly pale in the dim light of the streetlamp nearby. 

Caius frantically checked his pockets for his phone, finding it tucked in the last one he checked. He unlocked it with shaking hands and got into his speed dial with a few quick presses, sandwiching it between his ear and shoulder as he fumbled with his first aid kit. The one time he leaves it in the car, goddamnit. 

Sam answered just before it went to voicemail, his voice drowsy. 

“Caius? What time is it?”

“Two AM, rise and shine.” He tried to keep the panic from his voice. He found Tommy’s wrist and turned out his arm. His blood looked black in the light, spewing shockingly fast from the gash parting his ivory skin.

“Sam, Tommy’s hurt bad, they definitely got an artery. I’m working on a tourniquet – what do I do?”

“Fuck,” Sam responded, his voice slightly clearer. 

“-Where is the bleed? How big? How deep?”

“Arm, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Caius rushed, pulling the roll of gauze out and struggling to find where it started for a second before he started to wrap it around Tommy’s arm.

“Give me something to work with here, what’s going on?”

Tommy moaned in pain when Caius bound it tightly, startling slightly out of his stupor. 

“Tommy? Stay with me buddy, stay with me. Sam, you’re going to have to meet me.”

“Jeez, okay, where are you right now?”

The bandage was darkening fast while he prepared the tourniquet. Which step was first again? He couldn’t remember anything, his head was reeling in a blind panic. 

He paused long enough to send his location to Sam before pinching the phone back against his shoulder.

“I’m here, pick the best halfway point and send it back to me right now, go NOW.”

He could hear rustling on the phone, hopefully the sound of Sam heading his way. 

“Give me thirty seconds and I’ll send it and head out. But hey, if you lose this one, don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens. I knew a guy who-”

“NO,” Caius snarled, and he realized he was scared. There were a few beats of silence, and his phone pinged. He tied off the tourniquet and dropped his phone into his hand, rounding the car to rip the driver’s door open and jump inside.

ASSHOLE DOCTOR (SAM) HAS PINGED YOU A LOCATION.

It couldn’t load fast enough. He was pulling out of the driveway before he knew where he was heading. 

“It’s forty minutes out,” Sam told him gently, his voice distant as the call transferred to his own car’s system. At least he was on the way. 

“Be there in twenty.”

Caius hung up the phone, his wheels skidding in the street as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Tommy, baby, talk to me, you’ve gotta stay awake.”

From the back seat, Tommy groaned weakly.

Caius flipped the heaters on, only slowing briefly at a red light before peeling out. He was already sweating, but Tommy had felt so cold. 

“Keep talking, I gotta know you’re okay. What’s your favorite movie?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath.

“I don’t feel so good…”

His voice was so small, Caiuscould barely hear him over the blast of the heaters.

“What uh, what do you want for dinner? Once I get you fixed up. Anything you want.”

Tommy coughed raspily, dry heaving before he fell still again.

“TOMMY.”

“Coney. From home.”

“Home?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath. 

“Motor city, baby,” Tommy mumbled sleepily. Caius laughed, too loud, too jarring. 

“Tell me, tell me about Detroit.”

There was no response. Caius turned music on, whatever was playing, and turned it up loud. 

“YOU GOTTA STAY AWAKE,” he shouted over the music, and saw Tommy stir uncomfortably.

His phone told him they’d be going straight down the highway for the next 24 miles. He worked the gas pedal slowly to the ground, grateful for the clear roads. 

He skidded to a halt in the empty parking lot of Wheeler’s Dealers Emporium. His heart was beating out of his chest like he had run the whole way. He threw open Tommy’s door and pulled his legs, drawing him closer to get a look at him. 

“Stay with me. Tommy? Come on, little longer.”

Tommy made no response. 

He could hear a car pulling into the lot behind him, fast. 

He held his face, shining his cell phone light at his eyes. Tugging one lid open, his eyes were rolled back. In the light, his lips were so blue.

Caius kissed him. 

He didn’t know why, he hadn’t kissed him before. CPR didn’t work for blood loss, did it? He looked down and saw where that inky blackness had seeped into the jacket he’d wrapped around him. 

He grabbed his arm right over the cut and squeezed. 

The pain brought Tommy back to life, gasping for breath. Caius kissed him like warming his lips would save him, but honestly, he was just so relieved he wasn’t gone. 

Tommy went limp in his arms. 

Then Sam was there too, putting a hand on his shoulder. Caius moved out of the way, and Sam snagged the scissors from the first aid, cutting away the clothing obscuring the wound. 

“Tommy buddy, talk to me, you hanging in there?”

Caius sat in the back seat, holding Tommy up in his lap.  “Please, Tommy. Stay.”

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Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slighlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

Thank you all so much for reading, I cannot tell you what it means to me.

[bobwess]

It feels like you want to do torniqets

The leading cause of the preventable deaths in an emergency is uncontrolled bleeding.

Tourniquets can be used on limbs (arms/legs) and are for uncontrolled arterial bleeds. That's your bright red pulsing and spurting blood.

Uncontrolled bleeding is the first thing you will address after being sure there is no danger. It is important to stop that blood before you do anything else. Once you get the tourniquet on, you must write the time you applied the tourniquet on it or on the body part next to it in permanent marker. You must also write a "T" on the forehead, so if the limb is covered by blankets, emergency personnel know there is a clock on it.

Choosing your tourniquet:

There are 5 main kinds of Tourniquets, each with their pros/cons.

The most common and well liked tourniquet is the CAT (specifically the Gen 7) It's designed for the military, it is straightforward and easy to apply, it works well every time, and it can be done to yourself if needed. It will get the job done. Love it. My recommendation.

Then you have the Sof-T. It's a lot like the CAT but worse. (Fight me.) It looks nicer but it's less practical and slightly more expensive.

RATs is another one. This one isn't at all like the CAT, it instead is more of a elastic band material that you loop through an end piece to lock it off. The RATs is a little bit cheaper, around $20 The RATs will cause more nerve damage and pain though, because it is pinching it off with a much narrower band. However, because it doesn't have a huge stiff plastic windlass and locking mechanism, it's incredibly flexible and much more comfortable and practical to have in the pocket or a purse than carrying a CAT.

SWAT-T is another type. It's like an exercise elastic band and the instructions on how to use are printed right on the side. It's not easy to use. I don't think this tourniquet is worth your time.

The STAT is the last kind. This is your set it and forget it. It can be a little harder to get full tension on it, I still far prefer the CAT, but this goes on like a zip tie. You slide it on, pull it tight, and press the button. It automatically records the time itself, you'll just have to put a T on their forehead. (Write it in blood if you gotta.) The easiest of all the options for sure. If you want a tourniquet, don't really want to learn how to use one or the others are intimidating, it's a pretty good choice to throw in a first aid kit, backpack, or glove compartment.

NEVER get your tourniquets off Amazon, there are a LOT of counterfeit tourniquets on Amazon, and a counterfeit one will not have the right materials to hold pressure. North American Rescue is where I get my tourniquets, but there are a couple reputable medical supply companies. My Medic is a good site.

Normal belts can not be used as emergency medical tourniquets. I don't care what the movies told you. Drugs? Maybe. Stop the bleed? No.

I'm not going to get into what to use for a makeshift tourniquet, but you can find a tutorial online. It just won't be as effective, fast, or easy as a proper one is.

I personally carry a RATS tourniquet in my pocket at all times and have a CAT tourniquet on the passenger sun visor of my car.

-

Practice with whatever brand of tourniquet you are getting. And look up the best way of storing it to grab it and deploy it easier.

You will know the Tourniquet is tight enough because all blood flow to the limb will stop. There will be no more blood escaping the wound. Once blood flow is entirely stopped, the limb is actively dying. There is a limit to how long the limb can go without bloodflow in which the doctors can save the limb, otherwise the limb will be amputated at the tourniquet line.

Wwith modern technologies, it is hours before the limb is a gonner.

The military goes "high and tight" meaning whatever limb needs a tourniquet, they strap that thing on as high on the limb (close to the heart) as possible, fast easy mindless because they have a support team that is likely to get this person back to medical before anything happens.

If you don't know when your extraction will be (how soon you'll get medical attention) it's usually recommended you put the tourniquet roughly 3 inches above the wound (making sure you don't apply it to a joint like the elbow or knee).

Be warned, the tourniquet quickly becomes the most painful part of their body as it is crushing the nerves. They're gonna want to rip it off, you have to keep them from pawing at it and potentially undoing it.

-

I recommend getting a bright color tourniquet. Black is fine if it's what you have, and it can look cool, but you want people to see the applied tourniquet as easily as possible and bright flashy colors are the move for that. Attach a sharpie to your tourniquet! Just take a sharpie, put it in the case with the tourniquet or just in the same place. You'll want to be able to write the time and the T and it's easier if they're together.

[enbyhyena]

Tumblr users who haven't graduated high school yet, do you know how to pack a wound, apply a tourniquet, and/or respond in an active shooter situation? And were you taught how to do these things by your school? I'm a 24 year old and my 29 year old wife just told me a 12 year old they know was drilled on all of these things by their health teacher, and that it's becoming increasingly common in American schools for students to be taught how to act as First Responders. Please reblog for reach, but use proper trigger warnings. Let me know if I should add anything else to the list of triggers.

[wormsin]

tourniquets are actually now accepted as a good intervention for major hemorrhage (arterial bleed) that cannot be controlled by pressure or packing, OR immediately for a partial or full amputation. TQ use is taught in the bystander stop the bleed courses as well as used widely in combat scenarios. the permanent damage TQs can cause to a limb only start to take effect in two hours and most people in the US are within an hour transport to an emergency center where they will remove the TQ. also if the person is going to die of blood loss, the risk of ischaemia is worth it. do not apply a tourniquet if you do not know how or do not know if the TQ is from a reputable source.

(TQs are certainly not perfect or always indicated and there are risks. also the data on permanent damage from TQs is not super robust, and the recommended major hemorrhage interventions are constantly being updated, and different in different settings. in ten years we will probably have a different TQ protocol.)

I'm a bleeding control instructor, also source here. don't try to remove a bullet, tampons are less effective for wound packing than gauze, don't ever remove a tourniquet or loosen it.

[distripol]

Tasmanian Tiger Tourniquet Pouch II Noir #tasmaniantigergear #tasmaniantigertactical #tasmaniantiger #tourniquet #tourniquets #policebelgique #policedelaroute #police #policepolitie #policelocale #policelocalebelge #tacticalmedic #tactical #tacticalgear #lawenforcement #lawenforcements https://www.instagram.com/p/CppRNrHMOdP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[valtsv]

suddenly recalling the time i described a relationship dynamic as "he really did love her, is the thing, but he loved her like a scalpel (penetrating exposing severing)". idk why i'm still out here writing things when we are never topping that.

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

Hello everyone who lives in the United States and is over 18, early voting has been open for a little bit and stays open until the 2nd. If you’re mailing a ballot, they have to have it by the 5th so you should send it in probably by the 29th. The election is on the 5th, so don’t let the deadlines slip your mind!

Vote for Kamala and let’s keep that orange fascist out of office!

[frownyalfred]

Bruce being the most hardcore Dad ever but in a gnarly way like. normal dads walk off a bad injury with a single swear or some grunting. Bruce reaches into his own leg and pinches off a bleeding artery without making a sound.

[cryinginthedeep]

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you // mattdrai

[latenightsundayblues]

End of the pier, end of the bay

You tug my arm and say

"Give in to lust, give up to lust

Oh, Heaven knows we'll soon be dust"

(based on the bullet wound fingering scene from the Unofficial Saw Musical. There came a moment where i just stopped fussing with it to make the colors and composition work, looked at what i had and went "ah what the hell i cant do nothing about this anymore". So here it is. Still like it a lot tho) ((psssttt hey @goofalicousgooberface this was hugely inspired by your drawing based on the exact same scene so thanks!!!!))

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No. 16, No. 19, No. 22

Prompt 16: Swamp

Prompt 19: Abandoned cabin

Prompt 22: Tourniquet

Warnings: Animal death; severe injuries

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt ending. This one has been a work in progress since the beginning of the month and I just can’t get it to go any further. Maybe I’ll continue with a second part later.

gif is not mine - google

Neither human nor beast had moved since you had spotted the predator—a dragon by its own right. The alligator’s eyes reflected both the water’s surface and a sinister promise. Daryl, the water easily reaching his shoulders with his feet touching the swamp floor, was breathing quickly through his nose but remained otherwise motionless. The only thing you could see in his eyes was naked, implacable fear. 

“Daryl.” You whimpered. 

“Get outta the water.” You knew better than to argue and moved the slightest inch to turn before he spoke again. “Slow. Don’t splash.” He added. 

“Okay.” You tried to keep your movements fluid, deliberate. Each step beneath the murky surface felt heavy and so slow that you thought you would never feel the water receding around your upper body. You momentarily considered shedding your backpack but decided against it. There was a strange noise behind you but you kept your eyes on the overgrown shoreline. “Daryl?”

“Doin’ great. Keep goin’.” 

You nodded and maintained your glacial pace, bending at the waist as you began to leave the water in order to minimize the droplets that would unsettle the surface. The foreboding sense of being followed gnarled and twisted in your gut, and you allowed yourself to believe it was Daryl inching along behind you. 

“Almost there.” The tremble in his tone was easy to detect. You could also pick up that he was nowhere near behind you. 

“Daryl, how will you—” You didn’t see the debris. Of course you couldn’t through the dingy water. You had barely tripped and hit your knees when all hell broke loose around you. 

“Run, run, GO!” Came Daryl’s roar, a half a second before you heard and felt the chaos erupting. You were moving within milliseconds of his command, making the mistake of looking over your shoulder. 

“Shit!” A second gator had—at some point—surfaced, its tail whipping side-to-side to carry it toward you at a speed you would have never been able to outswim. Clambering onto the shore, the weeds soggy and giving beneath your feet, you ran a few meters ahead, trying hard to ignore the sounds that echoed beyond what could be your approaching death. 

The smaller alligator met land with a speed you hadn’t known the creatures capable of outside the water, its four legs carrying that open maw toward you faster than you were prepared to counter. With your only choices being abandon Daryl or fight, you made the only one with which your heart could live. 

Waiting until the last second, just as the animal lunged for you, you leapt to the side, twisting your body to throw your hunting knife. Those lessons with Daryl had paid off. The alligator slid forward until the momentum waned before going still, your knife protruding from its left eye. 

There was no time to catch your breath. “Daryl!” Between the heavy splashing, you would catch sight of a tail or an arm, the glint of sunlight off a blade. He was fighting for his life and you had no idea how to help him. Did you go back in the water? It’s what you wanted to do. There were likely other gators being attracted by the frenzy. Maybe you could keep them—

“Y’alright?!” 

“Oh, Daryl, thank god.” He was already wading toward you, shaking out his left hand while his right still held his knife. There was a decent amount of blood hitting the water with each flick. “Where did—is it dead?”

The archer shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno. Ain’t waitin’ ‘round to find out neither.” 

You were already reaching for him before he stepped out onto the mud, your hands latching onto his vest to pull him forward into a kiss that had him gasping against your mouth before just as quickly settling to return the gesture. After a few breathless heartbeats, his forehead rested against yours.

“Fancy knife work there.” 

You opened your eyes to find his still closed but you knew what he spoke of without separating from him. “Learned from the best.” You peppered his lips with several more chaste kisses before finally straightening to go retrieve your weapon. “We should probably take a look at—” The words died on your tongue, dissolved by horror and fear. 

Why hadn’t you urged him away from the water? Why hadn’t he moved further on his own? As the strong jaws clamped down around Daryl’s lower leg, the answers you sought no longer mattered. The archer smacked the ground with a shout, attempting to roll over while reaching for his knife. A sharp pull on his leg foiled his attempt. 

“Daryl!” You leapt forward, grabbing for his hand. Your fingers brushed his just as he was yanked into the water, the gator letting go just long enough to seek a better hold, teeth sinking into the flesh of Daryl’s right thigh. He let out a pained yell that followed him beneath the tenebrous marsh. “Daryl, no!”

The surface bubbled and rippled before going still, your heart twisting before it sank. The swamps were silent as you stepped into the shallows, scanning, watching, praying. 

“Daryl.” You whispered frantically, taking another step into the water. If you could do something for Daryl then you’d gladly let death come for you. If you could do nothing, then it could come all the same. Your feet slid forward again, your eyes darting, desperate for just a glimpse of your archer. 

When the surface broke, it was a tail first, then the gator’s belly. Its jaws still held Daryl’s leg as it rolled, his body twisting to turn with the beast. He was alive, and he was trying to remain that way while keeping his limb intact. The gator rolled a second time with Daryl gasping in a frenzied breath before he was plunged once again. 

Gripping the hilt of your knife, you dove under, throwing any consideration of your own safety to the wayside. It was impossible to see below resulting in you reaching for either Daryl or the gator. When you felt something crash into your hand, you made a grab for it and rolled to the surface, quickly opening your eyes to find yourself holding Daryl’s belt. Bending at the waist, you wrapped your legs around him as the movement continued, the gator relentlessly seeking to tear the archer’s leg from his body. 

Above water again, you sucked in a breath and found your target, stabbing at the animal’s head with your knife. You felt it drive home and pulled it free as the rolls continued, repeating the action over and over with nothing but a prayer that you managed the kill and doing so without hitting Daryl. 

The momentum slowed before stopping completely, the water tinted red as you clawed your way to the surface, reaching down to grab Daryl before releasing the hold you had maintained with your legs. 

“Daryl.”

He broke the surface with an agonized groan, groping for you while you held on urgently. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Backstroking while pulling him along, you managed to get him to the shoreline and struggled to your feet with your hands beneath his arms. You pulled and pulled, dragging him as far from the water as you could manage. He helped as much as he could with his uninjured leg, digging the heel of his boot into the ground and kicking back. “Let me see.”

The flesh of his thigh was torn, flayed at the edges of two wounds that were at least six inches long. They were deep but showed no bone. His lower leg was not unaffected but lacked the severity of the other injury. 

“Fuck.” You covered your mouth for a moment, watching him collapse onto his back, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Shedding your bag, you first grabbed a bottle of water, setting to work at cleaning the wound. When he shot upward with a shout, you began to mutter a mantra of I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. 

“Goddamnit!” Daryl exclaimed and fell back again, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. The wound continued to bleed heavily, gaping open in such a way that seized you with panic, grasping for any remembrance of your medical training. 

“Stop the bleeding. Clean the wound.” You could attempt to stitch it later, once the blood clotted—if you could even manage to pull the skin together. Gauze would never cover it but you had little choice but to try, your clothing too wet with the filthy water to aid in staunching the flow. You prayed as you dug through your bag that the harder exterior of the medical kit had protected the contents. 

Your prayers were answered, the supplies were dry. With quick movements, you unbuckled your belt and pulled it free of the loops. Sliding it beneath his leg resulted in a groan and grimace of pain but you couldn’t stop, not until it was pulled tight and fastened above the wound. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You repeated as you released your makeshift tourniquet, satisfied with the visible decrease of blood flow. “You’ll bleed out if I don’t.” Grabbing another bottle of water, you removed the cap and quickly emptied it over the torn flesh, wincing in sympathy. Alcohol would have been preferred but much more painful. Still, you worked with what was available. 

“Do—do whatcha gotta do.” Daryl panted. He pressed his palms into the soggy ground and tried to push himself up, making it only to his elbows before he was out of breath. His left hand was still steadily weeping but at least he had managed to keep all of his fingers. “Christ.” He whispered, his wide eyes obtaining their first look at the wound. 

“I know.” You felt sick. What could you do beyond what had been done already? “We have to get out of here. Find the others and get back to Alexandria.” Square after square of gauze was applied before you wrapped the grizzly wound with the only roll you had to secure and press things into place. 

“S’gettin’ dark.” He commented, head tipped back. He was staring upward toward the canopy as his breathing slowed but failed to return to normal. “Can’t be walkin’ through this shit at night.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl.” You argued. “There’s more, you know there are.” The swamps of Macon, Georgia were abundant with wildlife, including a healthy affluence of alligators. You were going to absolutely murder Rick for this mission when you and Daryl made it back. 

When. Not if. 

“S’try an’ find a place ain’t around the water.” He was still staring upward, dazed. “Ain’t got long to search ‘fore it gets dark.” When he didn’t make an attempt to move, you gathered all you could into your backpack, save for the knife you secured in the holster on your thigh. You even managed to put Daryl’s knife in its place on this good leg without any acknowledgment from the hunter. 

“Daryl.” You tried, watching the quick but shallow pants of his breath. His skin was still wet with swamp water, but was looking pale. “Daryl.” You attempted more forcefully. 

“Hmm?” He finally rolled his head toward you, the personification of calm. “Oh.” He seemed to finally catch on and started pushing himself upward, making it to a seated position only after you had grabbed beneath his arms and helped. Once it was clear he would not fold over onto his lap, you let go. 

“Gotta get you on your feet.” 

“Ain’t gonna get far.” The way he was behaving was beginning to worry you, his lack of panic—even pain.

“Daryl.” You crouched in front of him, taking another look at his leg. Red was already seeping through the bandage, a dark circle soaked into the soil below his thigh. “I need you with me.”  You said sternly, cupping his face with both hands. His gaze was cloudy, unfocused, and only seemed to clear the slightest fraction when you gave him a gentle shake. “Are you with me?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing. “Yeah.” He rasped. “Yeah, m’with ya.” Then he was actually trying to lever to his feet without your help, your hands frantically scrambling for purchase anywhere they could to provide support. To his credit, he made little noise beyond grunts and one sobbing rush of air once he was upright. 

“Okay, okay. Here we go.” He staggered into you while you assisted in draping his arm across your shoulders. “That wasn’t so hard.” You quipped, grinning up at him when those pretty blues glared at you. You had to keep things light. 

“Think—think you’re funny?” He grunted with the first supported step, his hand grasping for a firm grip on your shoulder. 

“I know I am.” 

“Gonna hafta—file a—a complaint.” 

The steps the two of you managed were small and hindered by the struggle of pulling along his right leg. Between blood loss and the tight tourniquet, it was amazing he could feel anything at all. Still, you trucked onward, boots sinking into the mushy ground. There was just too much water all around, too many threats. You kept your eyes peeled for danger, Daryl’s head now resting against the top of your own. He was getting weaker, slowing down, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him going. 

When he began to shiver, it wasn’t a gradual transition. One minute he was simply a weight against your side and the next, he was vibrating and his teeth chattering. It was anything but cold. It could only mean one thing. 

“You’re losing too much blood.” You commented, not really with the intent of him hearing. If he did, he didn’t respond. 

The pale light that had been guiding your path had since receded before disappearing completely, leaving the two of you shrouded in darkness. Each step had to be calculated, a gentle touch of the toe of your boot to test the integrity of the ground before you would drag him forward. If you fell into the swamp water now, it would be impossible to pull him out. 

Glowing eyes surrounded you, the reminder that more of the apex predators awaited a single lapse in judgment, one mistake. 

“Talk to me, Daryl.” He was growing heavier and heavier, harder and harder to pull along even if the ground had been sturdy. 

“Called a—a death roll.”

“What?” You queried, truly curious about the topic even if you couldn’t pay him your undivided attention. You stepped across a downed limb, your hands never leaving him before you had to nearly drag him across after you. 

“What that—gator—what it did. S’a death roll.” He stopped talking for a moment, gaining his balance, or at least enough strength to keep him from toppling over. “S’how they—how they rip off chunks,” he sucked in a shaky breath, “to eat.”

The information sat like a stone in your gut. It really had been trying to sever his leg, less interested in killing him and more concerned with tearing off a hunk of him to swallow down. 

“Well.” It was the only thing you could think of to say. The silence ensued and dragged on, your hope being sapped out and left in the trail of disturbed mud his boot was carving with each pull of his useless leg. He was less walking and more limping along beside you in graceless movements that did little more than keep him moving. 

By the time the old cabin—more of a shack, really—came into view, you were barely holding Daryl up. Your strength was waning, your body exhausted. You could hear the moans and gnashing teeth of walkers stuck in the marsh, your consciousness just too lagged to give thanks for their inability to reach you and the archer. The very thought of defending the two of you in your current state made your body ache. 

“Daryl. Daryl, it’s a cabin.” You jostled him with your shoulder, relief flooding your senses when he raised his head, albeit slowly. His only reply was a drawn out hum. “We can make it. Come on.” Drawing upon your reserves, you pulled him along. “Hello?” You called, maneuvering Daryl up the dilapidated steps to the door. There was no response, no candlelight. Abandoned. Or so you had hoped before you heard a thump against the door that was followed by a snarling growl. “Of course!”

The walker—an old man—had a bullet wound through his cheek and you would have bet the entry wound was below his chin. He had missed. Maybe he had died quickly. You wished that for him. Without dwelling, you lured him out, keeping his focus away from the man you had placed on the floor of the porch, behind an old rocker. Your knife met the dead man’s temple at the top of the steps, the body toppling onto the ground and out of your way. 

“Done and done.” You nodded and sheathed your weapon, trudging tiredly toward where Daryl lay prone. “Hey, you still with me?” You patted the side of his boot on his good leg, chuckling when he gave you a weak thumbs up. “Let’s get inside.”

Easier said than done, but once the two of you were safe behind the closed door, you allowed your body the moment of rest it needed, sprawling out next to Daryl on the floor. He was still shivering, breaths shallow, and eyes barely open. Nope, nevermind. You were up immediately, searching for anything you could use. 

A dusty blanket, some dried meat, and a useless med kit were all you managed to scavenge but it was enough. At least for the moment. You wrapped Daryl up tightly inside the blanket after beating the dust from it outside. It would be enough to keep him warm. Your bag was situated beneath his feet, keeping the blood flow closer to his heart. And once you had his head on your lap, you set to work trying to get food and water into him. 

“You need to drink. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” You argued, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from his face. “You’re already in shock.”

“M’fine. You have it.” 

“If you’re not drinking any, then I’m—”

He groaned. “Fine.” He accepted a few sips before turning away his head. Satisfied, you drank a few of your own and placed the bottle next to your hip. You only had that bottle and one other. That was a worry for another time. 

“Do you think you can navigate us outta here when the sun comes up?” You asked. You tore off a small piece of meat and tapped his chin. He didn’t argue and accepted the offering, allowing you to lift his head slightly so he could swallow. 

“Damn sure gonna try.” His voice was raspy and tired, his eyes remaining closed. The incident and injury had left him drained. You wouldn’t be sleeping that night, that much was certain. 

“Alright. Then you need to rest.” With the meat wrapped and inside your bag, you settled against the wall, humming and running your fingers through his damp hair. 

The cabin was small, everything in one room. A stove on one side, a broken bed on the other. You distantly wondered why anyone would want to live such an isolated life with nothing but beavers and gators for company. 

Daryl groaned from your lap, your expression falling when you saw the pain etched into his sleeping face. There was no way the man would be fit to lead the two of you anywhere. You’d be lucky if he was even still alive when the sun rose. Your best bet was to stay put, keep him warm and hydrated until the others found you. Maybe you could go out and—no. You couldn’t leave him behind. 

How would the two of you get out of this one?

[kikker-oma]

Warning: Blood

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[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 22

BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES tourniquet | reopening wounds | "oh, that's not good" / Heirloom

Yuu watched Malleus's hand shake, as an ashy pallor overtook his face.

It was remarkable to see such a thing happen- not just the unraveling of a high-and-mighty prince, but the drastic desaturation of an already very pale man.

His pupils had shrank to minuscule pips drowning in an ocean of bright green, the outline of his knuckles visible in his leather gloves as he tightened his hands.

Yuu stared at him for a bit, a slow, steady smile spreading across their face as Ace and Deuce slumbered deeply in the chairs next to their bed.

They stared at each other for a bit, Malleus frozen to the floor.

Yuu kind of expected him to come to them. They were the ones practically chained to the medical bed.

"H-hello," said Malleus finally. "How... how you feeling?"

"Better than before, I suppose," they said, unable to stop one of the corners of their mouth from lifting in a slight tease.

They tried to stamp down the little voice that wanted them to poke fun at him. There was something sickeningly thrilling, to not only know that they had so much power over a powerful man, but that it was currently on such display.

"That is not saying much," said Malleus, glancing off to the side.

"Yeah," they replied, a bit hoarse with the memories. "I know."

He stepped forward then, plucking the pitcher and a glass off their nightstand, which he quickly filled with water. He summoned a straw out of thin air and placed it in the glass, which he quickly offered to Yuu's lips.

They drank gratefully, appreciating the gesture more than the water but relishing the refreshening of their mouth.

As nice as it was to have Malleus here, seemingly at their mercy, Yuu wondered what he was actually here for. Ace and Deuce had already made their impassioned apologies for getting them into the precarious situation that had caused Yuu to become so injured.

It was Malleus, in the end, who had taken the charge on Yuu's necessary medical attention. Under the direction of Ace, he elevated their arm, applied pressure to the wound, and even tied a tourniquet to their arm when the situation became worse until help arrived.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, setting the mostly-empty glass down on the nightstand.

"Not really," they replied, "except for maybe some company. Unless you have something else to do."

With a flash of magic, Malleus was sitting next to Yuu in his own chair, spine straightened and shoulders stiff as he folded his hands in his lap.

"What would you lie to discuss?" he asked, primed for a conversation.

Yuu giggled. So eager.

"I dunno. You start. Anything you want."

Malleus's head ducked. "I hadn't realized how helpless I was without my magic."

This sounded like it was gonna be a very roundabout apology.

"Don't be like that," they cut in. "First aid is tricky, and it was a tough situation."

"Still," he said regretfully. "This experience has identified large gaps in my knowledge. I must endeavor to fill them expediently, so that I can be a good ruler."

Yuu shook his head. "We could all use a first aid refresher anyway."

"It would have been impractical to expect for you to perform first aid on yourself."

"Can we talk about something else, please?" insisted Yuu.

Malleus shook his head. "Of course. I would not expect you to relive traumatic memories for my sake. Can I... perhaps interest you in a story from my homeland?"

Yuu smiled and nodded. This sounded like it was going to be a lot more entertaining.

"Well... ah, yes," said Malleus, before clearing his throat. "When my mother was young, and still courting my father, he desired to propose to her in private, to seek her consent before he asked the Senate and my grandmother for permission. But he had few means, and so instead of purchasing something, he decided to make her something."

"Aww," cooed Yuu.

"He ventured out into the forest to find fibers in which to weave together, and eventually settled on making a ring made of wood, with the centerpiece being a flower."

"Oh!" said Yuu, trying to picture the ring in their mind.

"However, once he plucked the flower he wanted, a flaower fairy appeared, and scolded him for taking her spare dress. He apologized, and gave her his hankerchief so she could make another, as by plucking it, my father had spoiled the flower."

"Oh," sighed Yuu.

"Of course, this meant the flower would not last for the ring. He asked for help, and so she instead told him to take the flower-dress and press it, and return to her when it was done. He did so, returning two days later to ensure the flower was properly pressed, and she rearranged the flower into a beautiful arrangement for the ring, and he thanked her. However, before he left, she had a request."

"Oh?" inquired Yuu.

"She asked for an invitation to the wedding, and, seeing that as a good sign, he agreed. A few weeks later, he would invite her on a date in the solarium to propose, but as fate would have it, she proposed before he could."

"Oh." Yuu gasped at the turn the story had taken.

"She, of course, gave him her permission to formally ask for her hand, and they exchanged rings. They got more official, ornate rings for their wedding day, and wore both on their fingers together. My mother, of course, was buried with her wedding ring, but the one she gave to my father for their pre-engagement was lost to time."

"Oh..." trailed off Yuu, blindsided by the tragic end, though they knew about Malleus's parents ultimate fate.

"The ring he made her was removed by my grandmother, and she is saving it for me to propose one day. It's quite beautiful, and the tiny stitches are still intact. I would hope that it would serve as my mother's approval of my future spouse, even beyond the grave."

"Oh!" exclaimed Yuu, unable to restrain themselves at the swell of emotion that rose within them.

"Anyways, I hope that has lifted your spirits somewhat."

Yuu nodded enthusiastically. "It did, it really did! That's so romantic!"

Malleus smiled. "I am glad, to have provided you even a temporary relief."

Yuu huffed and pushed themselves up. "Come here, and give me a hug. When I say I'm fine, I'm fine."

"But-" Malleus was cut off as Yuu yanked them into a hug, and he eventually melted into it."

"Ow!"

Malleus immediately pulled himself away to see red spread through their white bandages.

"Oh," he uttered airily, "oh no, no, no, that is not good."

"U-uh," stuttered Yuu, because they had realized that was kind of a bad idea, "maybe-"

But Malleus had already vanished and returned with a dazed-looking doctor, shoving them towards Yuu's bed.

[valtsv]

Have you done a thing on tourniquets yet? Did my CPR/First Aid training this week and all I could think was "valtsv would love this"

Thank you for all you do for this community. Of people. Having weird feelings about tourniquets. It's me. I'm the community. Anyway thanks again.

i read that commercial tourniquets aren't usually available in general home first aid kits because of the potential for misuse and was like oh i'm sure

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Marilyn Manson - Tourniquet

[witchofthesouls]

Okay, but what if sparklings were really rare, like if there was any carrier, there would be only one baby? But here comes Tarn and Camien Nurse with their massive brood of never-ending bitties and they're rubbing their combined fertility in everyone's faces. No one knows what's going on, but it looks like the djd have their hands on the only viable and ridiculous fertile womb on Cybertron at the moment

WHEEZE

Now I have the delightful scene of the Decepticons (and Autobots and Neutrals) just gawping at all the six little ducklings toddling and chirping after the Justice Division, and someone losing an arm or their head for trying to sneak away a bitty.

As well as the 'con rumor mill putting in overtime with misinformation and speculation over the wayward Camien carrier and the weird situation with Tarn, especially since, well, they're married with bitties everywhere.

There are jokes about Tarn's dedication to the Cause and how he jumped the gun to the last step. Of course, someone commented in an officer meeting about it. Maybe Starscream or Overlord being snide or mocking or perhaps Megatron making an offhand comment, but then Tarn has to drop the bomb about the incoming third clutch (what) from a drug-induced heat (WHAT).

Tarn is primly organizing his notes, while every mech has been gut-punched by the news. Everything stalled. It's so ridiculous that it highjacked the meeting. Induced what?

Not only did Hook step up his considerable round-the-clock requisition for personnel seizure and transfer, but Shockwave is getting curious about the entire ordeal, and others are poking their nasals into it...

This causes more incidents since Nurse isn't afraid to use scalpels in very unrecommended ways, but Vos is highly appreciative about it.

(Poor Nurse is also muttering half-hearted plans to geld Tarn and lock their own reproductive parts after the third clutch -damn if there's any other mecha that needs help with overcharge! A toy will do the trick! -because of the combined and completely absurd levels of fertility. Back on Caminus, this many sparklings would be the combined magic of two femmes, two trines, and the revelry of the Genus Festival. Not even the Resonants status could explain the near back-to-back carriages between Nurse and Tarn.)

Camien Nurse would be in a scramble because more interested parties would be hassling if such levels could be replicated with the other mechs (unlikely due to Cybertron's practices of resource decimation and how Functionists' standardization had severely fucked with their own reproductive capabilities and processes) or if there's something the metal of Caminus' children (also unlikely due to the severe deprivation from the Titan's griefstricken early departure and Camien's campaigns against the height of Quintessa's powers in the neighborhood.)

This could go ugly really fast, but there's the comedy aspect, too. Megatron could order Tarn to fuck his Conjunx with another mech in the process to experiment how lineages can be transferred. But now everyone has front row tickets to how territorial Tarn can be since he's ensuring 'the best' can have access and he's entitled to test potential sires (aka no else can take his Conjunx or his kids and he'll throw people into the local ship's waste management systems, well tend the environment's hostile and metal-eating fauna, and would dig up obscure rules that are considered obsolete yet never officially striken to turn away other mechs.) And Nurse was a pupil and adopted child of a Camien Healer that specialized in tracking and headhunting, and Tourniquet trained under a Healer that collected specimens in very unstable and/or hazardous domains. Nurse has many tricks tucked away in their plating.