Nov 21, 2025
Long time no Val pinup
I LOVE GNC TRANS PEOPLEEEEE
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Iraq
seen from Netherlands
seen from Switzerland
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Yemen
seen from Finland
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Japan
seen from Germany
seen from United States
Long time no Val pinup
I LOVE GNC TRANS PEOPLEEEEE
My own version of "THE WOUND MAN" [Digital Collage, 2026] --- {Prints Available} Find me also on: Instagram - YouTube
#340.2
first
@whatwhump
content: hero villain whump, villain whumpee, medic whumper, team whump, lady whump, lady whumpee, former villain, medical whump, needles, sutures, gore, broken bones, emotional whump, rejection
Villain limped into the medbay, dragging a foot that was likely broken, hands pressed to her abdomen where there was a large gash. All in all, she didn't look or feel good. Medic looked up from their paperwork and regarded her with a cold look.
Medic didn't like her. As was their right. After all, they had been the one to patch the team up after fights against Villain, and now they were expected to care for the cause of all of those injuries. Villain didn't fault them. It still felt… a little hurtful. Every time she got injured, she tried to avoid going to the medbay. Every time she was so injured she knew she couldn't avoid it, she hoped Medic would look at her with something other than contempt. Every time, she was wrong.
Sutures Ch. 5
Tokyo Revengers Masterlist - Sutures Masterlist
-(Various x Reader)
Summary: Struck with tragedy, medical student (Name) is down on her luck and in need of a better job. Looking for fast money, she attends an interview for a job at a local club. Unfortuantely, she finds herself tangled in the web of the crime organization Bonten with no clean way out.
Warnings: Profanity, agnst
Prev. Ch. // Next Ch.
————————————————————————————————————
Across from you, Ran sits in his chair smoking as you fiddle with the full glass he left in front of you. You’re back in his office, now due to him preferring more privacy. But the lack of discussion and the now dirty ashtray, just make you think he needed a cigarette.
You’re alive and from their point of view, should be kissing their boss’s feet in gratitude. Thankful of his mercy.
If you could even call it that.
“It’s rude to reject the drink after saving your ass.” He calls as he finally acknowledges you holding his cigarette between his lips. Instead of looking up at him, you gaze into the cinnamon colored liquid. Its scent is strong even from far away. Maybe a whiskey of some sort or cognac. Slowly, you tip the cup back into your mouth.
It’s bitter and the way it burns your throat and nostrils, heats your insides far too quickly. Not even a fourth of your warm drink is gone, before you cough and set the glass back down.
You weren’t one for straight dark liquor, instead favoring whatever was cheapest and would get you drunk the fastest. That or anything that complimented a sweet mixed drink.
At your failure, he shakes his head, regret dripping from his sharp condescending tone. “That drink is worth more than you earn in a month and you don’t even know it. God save us all.”
He laughs lightly in disbelief as he snubs out the menthol short in his hand.
“What is all this?”
The question leaves your mouth without thinking, but weirdly you’re not afraid. By default, he was the most comforting stranger you knew here and judging from the conversation and his body language earlier, it was in his best interest to keep you alive at the moment.
“What do you think?” He challenges.
“Are you yakuza?” You’ve heard of sketchy businesses acting as fronts for unsavory activities. Years spent learning through whispers in the neighborhood and late news segments, still hadn’t prepared you for this, but why would it? Ran laughs at your slight hesitation and the questioning tone of your answer. He’s more relaxed than he was an hour ago, likely due to the drinking.
“Something like that. Come on.”
Once again, you find him leading you back down that hallway, but thankfully to an unfamiliar door. With the lights on, you're at a loss for words.
“This is yours for the time being. You’ll find everything you could ever need here.”
The room is sterile and the fluorescent lighting makes it look colder than it is. The door is unassuming, while the inside is a copy of a room at an ordinary clinic. Well, a well funded clinic you think as you take note of the high end equipment and the sheer size of the room. It’s almost comical how out of place, the room is, neatly tucked beneath a raging nightclub.
A glass cabinet stood to the side, containing various medications and narcotics all neatly displayed for easy access. A stainless steel wheeled table sat in the middle beneath an overhead light, while a patient bed complete with a monitor sat against the wall. The cupboards were stocked with bandages, gauze, feminine hygiene products, and even clothing. As you snooped around, Ran took a seat in one of the rolling chairs available.
“Matsuda was an idiot. An idiot who talked more than his hands worked and far too much for his own good. I trust you know better than to follow his footsteps.”
Opening a random drawer, you hear the rustling of packaged equipment. Mindlessly, sifting through it, you find a worn photograph hidden beneath a box of disposable gloves. An old round jolly man, a put together greyed woman, and two young women about your age posed for the camera.
This must have been your predecessor.
“It’s important that we learn from the mistakes of others here. Afterall. There’s really only one way out in this business.” His tone and the forgotten photo are warning enough. Rifling through his jacket pocket, he places a new phone in your hand.
“When we need you, you’ll know. Expect a call, a message, or a car outside your house whenever. This is the phone we will contact you on. Keep it on and charged, at all times. Also you’ll need to quit whatever job you have immediately.”
“Congratulations.” He sighs and sticks his hand out towards you. Your brain blanks, before you remember yourself, grabbing it to awkwardly shake his hand. At the permanent displeased look on his face, it seems you already leave much to be desired.
“Work on that.” His eyes narrow at you as he retracts his hand.
Thankfully, it seems he’s had enough of entertaining you as he leads you out back and back into the car from earlier. This time, you ride home alone.
Entering your home, you don’t bother with the locks instead finding refuge on the couch. Your head aches from the questions you had but mostly from the stress of it all. As your hands brush against the blanket and cushion, you wince shifting until they’re resting on top of you.
Staring at the empty wall, you can’t think. Your head pounds and your body is heavy. Closing your eyes, you try to clear your head which thankfully leads to you drifting off to sleep. If you dream, it’s not important enough to recall.
The notification buzz of your phone wakes you up to complete darkness. Checking the time, it had been three hours since you had passed out. Stumbling through the dark, you rummage for bandages in your junk drawer. With your eyes now adjusted to the dark, you wrap your fingers tightly. Swallowing some pain meds, you make your way upstairs to her room.
Your stomach ached but you doubted you’d be able to keep anything down. Instead, you laid in your mother’s bed. The sheets were left unwashed, having not been changed since she was hospitalized. Hugging her pillow, you were grateful for forgetting. Wrapping yourself in her comforter, you can’t help but fall apart.
Silent cries morph into sobs as your body shakes in the dark. The tears are never ending, coating your face and mouth in their saltiness. And just when you think you’ve finished, the pang in your heart leaves you worse than before.
Lying there, all you could do was cry. You cried for your mother, for her embrace. For the comfort of your grandmother who was off in the countryside grieving. For the father you could have had by your side. And most of all, the version of yourself before you killed her down in that room.
Rubbing your forehead, you curled into a ball, drowning yourself further. Even as your head throbbed and nose ran, you continued to let yourself breakdown. While you could, you would grieve for the life they were taking from you. The one you had practically given up to them.
So through the pain, you welcomed the fat tears. It was the least you could do for yourself.
Because soon enough, they’d likely come to take your tears away from you as well.
Opening up the burner phone, you find exactly what you had predicted, nothing.
No contacts, images, nor notifications outside of its battery percentage. It was a complete blank slate. If you weren’t afraid to damage it, you’d open it up to see if they put anything inside. They seemed the type to do so.
As hungry as you were, breakfast was a chore. To avoid the sickness, you force fed yourself food between gulps of water. All the while, you sat at the table waiting for the dreaded device to ring. Two hours passed and still no notification of any kind nor did you spot a luxury car outside. As much as you tried to busy yourself with cleaning, music, studying, and even reading, it was useless.
It was almost as if your life was put on pause for them.
At the very least, you wouldn’t have to worry about securing a job after the scalding conversation with your ex overseer. No need to list her as a reference. Calling out alone before made you nervous, as the head of your department was known for being mean and stern. But even as she bitched you out over the phone for quitting, you couldn’t care less. Only glad for keeping your life in your bag rather than one of the rusty lockers they provided.
Afterall, you had a new job.
Several days you spent shut in waiting. Dread filling the pit of your stomach as you sunk a divot into her bed. Still, you couldn’t lie. The rest was a nice break from the twelve hour shifts that turned your initial part-time job to full-time due to understaffing. The sleep and time off your feet was also a nice way to lead into your final year of schooling.
Not that it would be anything crazy like last year’s packed clinicals. All you had to do this year was explore specialties, study for your second exam, and match into residency. Ideally, the main hospital in Tokyo was your goal to stay closer to home. Now it didn’t matter much, maybe.
Today all you had planned was studying and maybe reading or something. Anything to take your mind off the phone burning a hole through the night stand.
After showering, you went through your usual routine before pulling on a pair of comfy pajamas. Clearing the desk, you set yourself up to run through your notecards and test yourself on the study guides you built. Running through them, separating what came easy apart from ones that needed more repetition, you couldn’t help the sliver of pride that filled you. Even if things weren’t the best, at the very least you didn’t have to worry much about your schooling.
Making notes of what you needed to work on, you created a study plan for the week. Even if it wasn’t necessary with school a couple weeks away, it was something to keep you busy. With music in the background, it proved to be just what you needed. Several hours passed by in a flash as you snacked on some fruit while reading through a passage on a topic you were experiencing trouble with.
Half glancing at the vibration and sound from your left, you nodded along to the music before grabbing your phone. Narrowed eyes at the sight of your bare lockscreen. Setting your phone down, you return to your work, until another timber breaks your concentration. Still faced only with the photo of you, your mother, and grandmother, you're stumped.
But you're frozen at your desk, once you recall the black phone laid face down. Quickly, you grab it and can’t stop your hands from shaking as you read the message.
Outside in 15
R
————————
Sitting in the car, you stare out the window. Just as you read, the car arrived on time with only a driver. A single nod was sent your way as you climbed into the back seat.
Casually dressed, all you grabbed was your bag to tote along the second device and random bits that brought you comfort. Once there, you get out of the car after thanking the driver. At the back door, a lackey waits holding the door for you. Inside, you follow him to where Ran’s office sat. Walking in, he bows to the Ran and the man seated in front of him, before announcing himself.
Waving him off, you're left standing as Ran and the long white haired man continue their hushed conversation without as much as a glance at you. Idly, you wait, which seems to slightly infuriate Ran.
“Don’t just stand there.”
Making your way to the empty seat across from Ran, you find yourself next to the unnamed man. Nodding to acknowledge him, a smile breaks out across his face as he relaxes against the back of his chair.
“We’ll, well. If it isn’t the doctor.”
You don’t know how to respond to him so you don’t.
“She’s all yours Koko.” Ran sighs as he hands over a manila envelope. “Have fun.”
“Let’s go doc, we don’t have all day.”
As he stands to leave, you follow suit throwing a look of concern back towards Ran. Instead of offering some clarification, Ran ignores you turning back towards the phone in his hand.
Ouch
It’s a short walk on the same floor. Kokonoi Hajime reads the plaque on the wall to the right of the door he holds open for you. Your hesitation to walk in, has him drag his tongue over his teeth before he grins.
“Don’t worry I don’t bite.”
He closes the door after himself, before making his way behind the desk. The room is slightly smaller than Ran’s but just as well decorated, maybe even more. The main difference you note being the large flashy metal safe tucked in the corner. On his desk, he has three large monitors that he actually seems to use based on the way he glances at all three in front of you. Typing away on the computer in front of you, you busy yourself by examining him.
His eyes are sharp and dark, but not menacing unlike others you’ve encountered. Rather, they look as if everything is amusing to him. His face is angular and sharp, while his eyebrows are thin and neat. Parted on the side, half his head is shaved short, while the other side is long and white as powder. What’s most striking to you is the placement of his tattoo.
It stands out terribly on his head, which seems to be just what he was after. What’s more is it seems to match the one along the front of Ran’s throat.
“Alright doc, let’s get started.” He says as he keeps his eyes trained on his computer screen. “I’m setting you up a weekly payment schedule as if you were one of the girls on the floor. Hmmm, let’s see.”
His eyes scan over you before he returns to his work. “For tax purposes, you can be a dancer.” Clicking away on the screen, he laughs to himself before continuing. “Payment at the standard rate will be deposited into your account, with the surplus to be given to you in cash, weekly as well.”
“It’s easier that way for you and us.” He responds to the curious look on your face. “I’ll have you see me sometime later this week for the first installment. For now, you’re to head to your room.”
“Don’t I need to give you my information?” You hate just how weak you sound. “My account number?”
“Nope. I have everything I need already.”
You cringe at his words. Of course he would.
“Anything else?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do exactly.” Here you were just as they had asked, and you still didn’t know exactly what you were supposed to do yet.
“You’ll wait. If anyone needs anything, they’ll be going to you. Expect to meet and treat just about anything. We’ve been without a doctor for about a month, so there’s work to be done.”
Giving him a nod you go to leave. Right before you close the door behind you, he calls out towards you a last time.
“See you around doc.” His arms are crossed in front of him as he watches you with a grin. All you muster is a thin lipped smile, before making your way as fast as you could towards the stairs. Headed down, you try your best to find the room quickly. Once in sight, you slam the door shut.
Already you were tired and you hadn’t done anything yet. Sitting at the desk, you rest your head on your arms. At least this new guy was alright. From the last time, you couldn’t help but fear that more of them would be just like the pink haired man. You didn’t know this man, but at the very least you weren’t dreading having to see him every week.
After resting for fifteen minutes or so, you’re already bored. Moving around the room you allow yourself to fully snoop through everything. It seems that while neat, no one had come in to clean out the old doctor’s things. His coat and scrubs were left behind tucked in a locker in the corner, alongside several badges for different hospitals. Tokyo General, St. Luke’s International, University of Tokyo, etc. A handful of his notepads with scribbles filled the drawer with boxes of refills for a singular pen brand.
His chicken scratch was hard to read, and likely just random patient notes. For you, that was perhaps the biggest question you had.
Just who were you supposed to see here underneath the club?
It was just as Ran said. The room was stocked up with just about anything one could obtain over the counter and more.
Knocking on the door brings you to your feet. Slowly, you make your way to the door and peer through the blinds of the window. Outside stands a short petite woman in a red club dress. Her short blonde hair reaches her shoulders in loose curls and her dark eyes seem even darker due to her smoky makeup. At first you think maybe she is mistaken, and has the wrong door. But she doubles back, knocking even harder this time.
“Hi. Can I help you?” You call out as you open the door just enough to stick your face out through the crack. At the sight of you, she is taken aback.
“You his girl or something? I heard the Doctor was in.” The way her eyes scan over you, you can tell she’s picking apart your appearance.
“Yes. I’m the new doctor.”
“I thought Matsuda was back.”
“Nope. It’s just me now.” Opening the door fully, you stand off to the side. “Here come in.”
She walks in slowly, and takes a seat in one of the chairs across from you. Setting her bag down on the counter, she looks around the room.
“Makes sense. He didn’t seem the type to step out on his wife. Well, where is he then?”
She looks around the room as if expecting him to pop out and scare her.
“I don’t know.”
“Is he working elsewhere or training you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Her hard eyes soften with every question that leaves her lined lips. “All I know is I’m to replace him here.”
She laughs lightly this time, dropping her face in her hands. Lifting her head, she shakes her head slightly before facing you again. This time her eyes are blank. “Stupid old man.”
Her tone is sharp, but the underlying somber tone peeks through the cracks.
“What’s your name then doctor?”
“(Name). You can call me (Name), or doctor. What’s yours?”
“Rose.” She sniffles, before wiping at her nose. “Alright then. Doctor, I’m here for a check up.”
Nodding, you begin to follow the standard procedure you were taught through clinicals alongside the main physician. She follows along answering your questions and showing you where to find the files on the computer.
Matsuda had been incredibly meticulous about his charting and file organization making it easy to find her information. Each individual he saw regularly, having their own number.
Time spent in gyno proved extremely useful, as you were used to the STI testing procedures. Storing the labeled samples, you informed her the results would be ready sometime next week, once you figured out the next steps. At this she nodded, and dressed herself.
“This your first day?”
“Is it that noticeable?” You manage to break a small smile out of her, as she snickers before collecting her things.
“See you later doctor.”
She closes the door behind her, leaving you alone as you finish up updating her chart. For a second you forget where you are until you realize you're still in your casual clothes. Rifling through the scrub collection, you pull out a pair in your size and lock the door to change.
Catching sight of yourself in the mirror, you relax your shoulders as you take deep breaths. You don’t look too different save for the slight dull of your skin and the bags under your eyes. Your hair is a tad unruly from your short nap, but not horribly unprofessional.
Thankfully, you’re you.
Another knock, at the door, has you smooth your top down before unlocking and opening the door, to another well dressed woman with a quirked eyebrow.
It seemed you did have work to do.
——————————————————————
Taglist: @pandanen @zhamooz
————————————————————————————————————
Author's Note: Now we are getting somewhere y’all. Excited but also nervous since there is so much to remember. Sutures is coming easier to me than Growing Pains right now. I guess since I’m trying to plan it out carefully so I don’t get too mixed up. At least I was able to get this out at a length I’m happy with. Hope those who celebrate had a good Halloween. I spent it chilling with family and watching movies. Watched weapons which was different but good. Thank you for reading! <3
Very first coloring for @green-with-envy-phandom-event. Learning the steps I need to take now that the art is finished. But it was so much fun, even though it was fully done on my phone.
Lines done by @pineconewithapencil
Monofilament through 22g needles, charms sewn to my leg
Calling him Crime cause someone took a bite outta him
Suture Types and Patterns