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coffeeangelinabox · 5 months ago

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Febuwhump Day #4: Hivemind

tw: non consensual nudity, beating

Second in Command keeps his feet under him as he is forcibly marched down the corridor. He’s quite definitely being dragged, not allowed to walk himself, and it’s in his mind to use that as his resistance, to make his body limp deadweight. But, he knows, with so many of them, it won’t even slow them down, will encourage them to hurt him and frankly, naked as he is, he’d rather be out of a public corridor as soon as possible.

He still baulks when they get to the door at the end of the corridor. Heavy, corrugated iron, several thick locks, unpleasant stains and watermarks, and when it creaks slowly open, the room beyond is entirely black rubber, but for the drain at the centre. There are various restraint apparatus and a surgeon’s tray of tools, some shiny and sharp and others rusted and pre-stained. There’s a cabinet on one wall, and Second can just guess what kind of things are in there.

He stops, digging his heels into the concrete.

“Very nice,” his voice is raspy, breathless, but not shaking. He makes it as snooty as he can. “We appear to have arrived at the set of a poorly funded pornography studio. Will you be wearing stilettos and a bustier? That is what I paid for.”

They ignore him and shove him forward. Second resists with all his might, but there are ten of them and only one of him and his head is still spinning and ringing.

He finds himself on his hands and knees on the rubber flooring and stagger-leaps to his feet, hands up in a boxing stance. He will not just quietly submit to whatever Whumper has planned, not in this room with only his own skin to worry about.

Whumper closes the door, locks it with a heavy clunk of finality and then simply leans against it, watching with his cold eyes. Second can’t watch him for more than a few seconds though, at some command Second neither sees nor hears the guards fan out around him. He backs up, knowing he’s getting deeper into the room, but at least preventing them from coming up behind him.

It’s not like in the movies. They don’t politely wait and take their turns, instead four charge him at once. He fights back, a flurry of kicks and blows, ducking and weaving. He pulls off an impressive round-house kick that turns into a drop-roll that belies the injuries he’s already taken. He grins like something feral, teeth flecked with blood as he springs back to a fighting stance.

It doesn’t matter. Everywhere he is, there’s another one of them. They never seem to get in each other’s way. Either they’re phenomenally coordinated, train together at least once a day, or…

Once, before all this happened and the world went to shit, when he was one of an elite unit, but nominally part of the army regulars, they had been sent out to San Francisco to trial some experimental arcanium. He had never trusted crystalmancy, and had been firmly opposed to having an enchanted crystal materialised inside his brain. However, their’s was not to question why and so on, so he’d gone: he, Team Leader, Teammate Three and Medic, at Leader’s insistence, to monitor them and ensure there weren’t any ill effects.

To his eternal relief, the damnable thing hadn’t been manifested inside him. That, apparently, was a difficult and time consuming procedure that they didn't have time for. Instead, their crystals, pulsing with the power the crystalmancers had filled them with in various strobing colours, had been attached to their foreheads by sticky straps that had felt like having a squid coiled around his head. They’d had to sleep in them, to harmonise them to their thought patterns or some such.

Then had come the trialling: mazes, puzzle solving, simple word association tasks. And they had been flawlessly in-sync. It had been hard to explain later in the reports because they were always flawlessly in-sync, they had worked together for years. He and Three had been raw recruits together, boys barely out of short trousers. This, however, had been something else. It was one thing to look at Three and know what he was thinking because he knew the man like a brother. It was another entirely to know what he was thinking on the other side of a locked door because he was part of that thought.

Despite the creeping, crawling itch in his mind, it had been fun at first. Even if Three had kept shoving him and loudly announcing that he should, “Stop thinking about that girl, Second. Jesus Christ, I never thought you’d get all lovestruck. Normally, you’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” and making him blush in front of the Americans. Even if he had been half aware that Leader was frustrated with the stickiness of the thing around her head an in her hair, half afraid she’s going to have to shave off the flowing gold to a buzz cut to get rid of it, which was half funny because she’s not vain or girly at all, and half embarrassing, like watching her get undressed, because she’d never utter such a thought out loud. Even if, after hours - when they still had to wear the things to keep them tuned - Medic’s face began to look pinched and wan, and Second began to feel like she was far away, a virtual stranger in the happy little hum of companionship he was sharing with Leader and Three.

The military applications were incalculable. Split second decisions made with three sets of limbs. More, the crystalmancers assured them, it could be done for a whole squad. It just had to be one crystal, fragmented so that each had a part of the original whole. He’d been able to concentrate on his part of the mission, whilst watching Three’s back and simultaneously adapting to Leader’s new information as she was fed it in the control booth, without needing any kind of scry or crystalpulsers of their own. It had been uncomfortable, but hell, body armour was uncomfortable. He’d worn worse. Even the itch faded after that first day.

Then, they’d started losing time. The first he’d known of it was when he’d blinked at the edge of one of the pseudo missions they’d completed, already mentally comparing times with the data in Leader’s mind, and opened his eyes in the Mess Hall to find Medic talking about the fact that she kept picking up unusual auras from them and she thought the crystals might have side effects. A look at the others told him it was the same for them.

“We must have been debriefed,” Team Leader had said, pale and tense and then flushing, eyes hardening to cold stone, “And I have no idea what I might have said.”

“It could just be a side effect,” Three had suggested half heartedly.

“Or it could be that these have a secondary function as interrogation tools,” Leader had responded.

“Look around,” Medic had said quietly, and when they had followed her instruction, Second in Command had seen instantly what she wanted them to. Every other group of soldiers was eating silently, mechanically, but it was more than that. They were eating perfectly in time. Each taking a bite of potato with the same perfect precise move and then laying their cutlery to the side to pick up their water glasses. It was like watching a puppet ballet. Things not alive, controlled in perfect time, to an unheard beat. “I think the interrogation and logistic advantages are bonuses. I think the intention is to ensure a perfectly obedient fighting force.”

Second had been the first to try and rip the thing from his head. It hadn’t worked immediately and he’s a little blurry on some of the details after that though he’s read the after action reports. He knows he’s beyond grateful to Medic who had saved, perhaps not his life, but his soul, his self. And to Team Leader, who insisted on having one person there for them, not trialling the new arcanium, against the advice of their higher ups.

All this, Second remembers in a single instant. Then another of the guards strikes him across the jaw and he wavers, almost goes down, spinning to drive a fist into the ribs of the one behind him and to destroy the kneecap of another. Neither move quite comes off. They land perfectly, but the guards are wearing armour, magically enhanced, if the tingle in his fingers is anything to go by, and he has only his bare hands. His knuckles split and he snarls through the pain, dropping to his knees and spinning and landing another punch.

They surge in again, perfectly in time, in tune, and again Second thinks of looking around that Mess Hall. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle in the exact same way. Their movements aren’t fast like Whumpers, but unnatural nonetheless. It’s like fighting dolls and Second is suddenly certain that if he ripped away their helmets there would be nothing underneath, just a blank, smooth, featureless bulb in place of a head or face.

The one finally gets hands around his wrist and that’s it. The guard pulls him off balance and the others are already perfectly positioned, one to grab his remaining arm as it strikes out, another to catch his flailing legs.

Whumper speaks for the first time, “Just the chair today,” and he’s manhandled into an uncomfortable steel seat. It’s bitingly cold on his bare arse and he struggles all he can as his arms are fixed behind his back and to one of the slats, his knees pulled apart as bands are placed around each thigh and ankle. More of the strange, silent men are fixing the chair to the floor, meaning he can’t tip it, or lunge, still attached.

Whumper goes to the tray of instruments and inspects them. Second rolls his eyes, despite his fear and vulnerable position. It’s all so performative. This…this cult which infects every level of society, runs the British Isles.

They had cut communication with the wider world several months ago, but they intended, when there was last any unbiased news and such things as elections, to build the Second Great British Empire. Second assumes that by now, much of Europe has fallen. He hasn’t heard from his family in weeks. He knows what they say about the French habit of surrender, but he hopes they did so quickly, spared the rural countryside of his childhood from the vicious violent takeovers that had happened here. He wants to imagine it how it was, vineyards for miles and barely paved roads, toasted sugar from Madam Roux’s patisserie thick in the air. Possibly countries further afield had already fallen to the advance. Certainly no aid has been forthcoming.

But either way, Whumper has carried out many hundreds of interrogations. He doesn’t need to painstakingly choose his first tool.

“You find this boring?” Whumper asks solicitously as a host at a dinner party, and just as disinterested.

“Not my scene,” Second says, striving to match his tone. “Maybe I should take my leave. I’ll give your facility a good review. The henchmen were excellent, accommodations well within human right’s parametres.” He’s babbling. Performative, he might have been, but the scalpel Whumper is holding a little too close to his one still-open eye looks awfully sharp.

“Who are you working for?” Whumper says in his bored tone, flat gaze on Second’s.

“No one. Freelance.” He rotates his wrists inside the cuffs, but, though doll-like the guards may have been, they have also been brutally efficient. He’s not getting out of these. “You?”

Whumper looks back at him. “Supervillain. As are we all.”

“Oui, but who is he? He just appeared in power one day. He never appears on the telly, never speaks to his glorious subjects. He never even appeared on the stage when he had the old Monarchy guillotined, to the delight of the masses. You’re in the inner circle. What’s his name?”

Whumper ignores this torrent of words and does not answer, simply leaning down and cutting a burning line from the corner of Second’s lip along the contour of his jaw. “Your organisation?”

This time, Second ignores him. “Ah, you’re not in the inner circle at all. Just classe ouvrière, like the rest of us.”

Whumper turns back to his tray, and in his hand this time is a glass vial with a glowing worm the size of his thumb within.

Second gives up on bravado and roars, struggling in his bonds. He’s heard of those, knows exactly what it’s for. If he hadn’t wanted a mere crystal shard inside of him, there’s no way he intends to permit that.

The guards, as one, look at Whumper in question and then, still as one, back up a step, forming a solid rank behind him. Even if he could break his chains like Samson, there’s no way out now. Whumper holds the worm closer.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Second shouts, blood mixing with spit and frothing on his lips. Then he realises that screaming is not his best tactical option and clenches lips tight together like a toddler refusing broccoli.

Whumper looks not even the slightest bit perturbed. “Open your mouth,” he says in his calm, expressionless way, “Or I will have this inserted somewhere a great deal more unpleasant.”

Second’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t obey the command, stubbornness and pride willing to take the abuse instead of being complicit.

Then the door he was pushed through, minutes or was it weeks ago, creaks open and a voice he almost recognises says, “Whumper.” in cool, but unmistakable command.

Second cranes over his shoulder, but can’t turn far enough to see past the rank of blankly staring soldiers behind him.

Whumper straightens smoothly, and for a full second, Second thinks he’s been granted a reprieve by the presence. Then Whumper speaks to the men at his back. “Get it into him. I’ll return after my meeting.”

He steps past him. The soldiers step forward, perfect as a parade ground. Out of the corner of his eye Second a metallic glimmer. Chains of office. Supervillain. He strains his neck, turning to see exactly who-

Then one of the soldiers punches the breath from his body and he’s lost in choking, swirling darkness and pain.

#my writing #whump #writing prompt s #whump prompts #whump community #defiant whumpee #febuwhumpday4 #hivemind #febuwhump2025 #tw non consensual nudity #world building #my personal challenge this year is making this one continuous story #tw torture (non graphic)#magic universe

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nynyhaha · 1 year ago

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Phantom troupe going to the dentist

-Shizuku: Forgets to brush her teeth,forgets dentists exist and forgets appointments when she has them.When her teeth start hurting she usually goes to Machi who takes care of finding a dentist nearby.Doesn’t mind the process,one time she fell asleep during it.Forgets to keep her mouth open.

“Don’t eat until three hours have passed.”

*goes straight to McDonalds

-Machi: Wasn’t happy to learn how teeth and caries work but accepted it and follows recommendations.She’s glad to have accessible medicine.Respects dentists.

Tells other members stuff like not to bathe in blood cause it’s an infection bringer,explains that she can’t heal teeth and they have to seek out a dentist.

Either forcefully gets the whole troupe to a clinic or suggests to kindnap one dentist and have them in the hideout checking everyone’s teeth.Everyone promises to take care of it on their own when needed.

-Pakunoda:Does what Machi tells her,doesn’t have many problems.The dentist thinks she’s an ordinary customer,she’s mature enough for it.

-Kalluto: His parent’s concern it is.Has a sweet tooth like Killua and Alluka,not as bad as Killua but well

-Feitan: Doesn’t go there unless he really needs to because yk HE is the torturer,not backwards.Doesn’t say a thing during the process but if something hurts he glares at the dentist enough for the poor guy to shit his pants,so much bloodlust is there.

Won’t bite without reason,but likes to imagine activating rising sun at the dentist.

He finds the tools interesting,might ask what they’re called or steal them for his own use.Might pay with stolen money,might not.Yk what’s more likely.

“No we don’t need a toy,don’t kill the doctor Fei”when he goes with Phinks or Chrollo.

-Phinks: Only agreed to go because Feitan threatened to take care of his tooth himself.Doesn’t like it,argues with the people in line,the doctor and the nurse.

Fights anyone who says he’s scared,he’s all tough man and definitely NOT scared.

-Chrollo: If it has be done there’s no use in resistance.He doesn’t like the pain but even if it’ll hurt it won’t compare to all things wrong with the world.And a gang leader doesn’t fear torture.Takes a book to read while waiting,during the procedure he thinks about the meaning of life.Gets along with the dentist just fine,will pay if he has money on him.

-Shalnark: He hates it.He pretends that he’s not scared but will avoid it at all costs.

-Uvogin: doesn’t believe in caries,but his teeth are healthy and hard(he bites skulls)

The way he might actually damage them is by consuming acid or having some ultra stable material break his tooth.Will do something about it only when biting starts to hurt/doesn’t work anymore.

Dentists wonder how his teeth are so healthy when he doesn’t take much care of them.Dislikes procedures and stuff like those things they put on you to protect your clothes.Seat is too small for him.Doesn’t mind the process.

-Nobunaga: similar to Uvogin,except he doesn’t fully leave his teeth without attention.

Might try some natural samurai medicine/toothpaste.Doesn’t like acknowledging his tooth is hurting.Will ignore it if it’s on mission but will be in a bad mood and start fights with everyone around him.

-Bonolenov: He is used to injuries and pain and sees it as part of life.On the upside of growing up in a tribe,he knows natural medicine quite well and tells the others what plans to use to ease the pain if they’re out in the wild.He’s not scared of dentists but he doesn’t like it either.

-Franklin:Someone who had his fingers cut off doesn’t fear dentists.They fear him,tho

-Kortopi: Doesn’t mind treatment for his tooth if it hurts but is suspicious of medical staff since they might look at him weirdly.Usually has someone else go with him.

#phantom troupe #hxh headcanons #chrollo lucilfer #machi hxh #feitan #pakunoda #shalnark

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eggtoasties · 2 years ago

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unmasked

Pairing: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi

Rating + Notes: Crack/Fluff, ur classic unmasking trope

Word Count: 769

Summary: A mouth breather. That was the reason behind one of Konoha's greatest mysteries.

"Sakura," Kakashi abruptly called from his place on the couch.

She pulled her feet from his lap and slowly pushed herself upright, noting the rigidity of his shoulders, Anbu tattoo rippling. "Kakashi?" she responded tentatively. She wasn’t sure if this was finally the breaking point. Defining whatever this was or wasn’t, if he was ready to break their little rituals clumsily as he stumbled into it.

"I’m ready," he said resolutely, tight fists on his knees.

"Wait,” her brow creased, “ready for what--"

His pointer finger slid to the hem of his mask and her eyes widened in shock before slipping into feigned neutrality. Kakashi’s chest rose with a quick inhale as he hooked his index finger under the black fabric.

"You don't have to if you don’t want to!" Sakura rushed, but she really hoped he would.

"No, I-I want to," he bit out.

At his obvious strain, she placed a hand at his knee, but he tugged his mask down in one quick motion. If she left five bruises in the shape of her fingerprints around his knee cap, she swore it was an accident.

"Wow," she breathed. She approached the situation as she did for the first few months of their budding relationship. Treating him like a feral cat--a cat prone to making quick exits out of windows and never showing up again.

"You," she paused tracing his face with her eyes, half wishing she had let Sasuke bleed to death in the Valley of the End to have stolen one of his eyes for herself to burn this moment into her retinas.

Kakashi held still as she forced him to meet her gaze.

"You,” she paused, squeezing his leg reassuringly, “are very handsome."

He tried to fight the flush that rose on his cheeks and averted his eyes, lip twitching at the corner.

Sakura continued, “Thanks for show--"

"--it's a Hatake thing," he rushed out.

Sakura tried to tamp the sharp pang of panic from the uncharacteristic show of vulnerability.

"You don't have to share anything you don't want to," she reminded him quickly.

"No, no I know,” he shook his head, “I-I want to, I’ve wanted to for a while now but just," he ran a gloved hand through his coarse hair, "couldn't." He offered a half smile and drew out a long breath.

"It's a Hatake thing,” he said resolutely. “It's skipped through generations but it's pretty common,” he explained. “My grandmother passed it to my mother and she passed it to me is what I was told." he said, looking at the space next to her ear.

Sakura recalled the thin scroll she found in the Hokage’s library describing the Hatake clan. A nomadic clan that eventually settled towards the mountains of Konoha, but the information about his mother’s side was redacted.

"It's been quite..." he looked up at her briefly before trailing off and she was really hoping for a medical anomaly-- elongated incisors, retractable fangs, claws. “Troublesome to say the least but, I’ve lived with it this long."

He lifted his jaw to her and she swore he was going to unhinge his jaw like a snake. She wondered if he’d let her conduct tests. He lifted a finger to the tip of his nose--super scent? Fuck, she just came back from the gym, she wondered if--

"Deviated septum."

She tried not to scream.

"It made it hard to breathe, so I was always eating bugs while traveling through trees," he admitted.

Sakura felt a vein pulsate at her brow and she counted her inhales and exhales to ensure they were even--experiments ruined. A mouth breather. That was the reason behind one of Konoha's greatest mysteries.

"I’m very sorry," she stated, slipping into professionalism. "If you'd like, it's a relatively simple surgery." She began describing the procedure, the aftercare and recovery time, slowly relaxing herself with the familiar routine.

Kakashi nodded and smiled shyly at her--damn she thought, no crazy incisors.

"I’d appreciate that," he said sheepishly. Sliding his mask over his handsome, albeit, medically normal features Sakura noted with disdain.

He rubbed the back of his head. "I’ll let you do the surgery, but I’d prefer if no one else could my face," he trailed off in thought. "But if you could just do it in your apartment and I can rest and hide here--"

He fell back onto the couch, Hyuga chakra point beginning to welt at his neck, and Sakura tamped down her killing intent.

She narrowed her eyes at the passed out jounin. Well, she rolled up her sleeves. Local anesthesias overrated.

#kakasaku #kakashi x sakura #naruto fanfiction #kakasaku au #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfiction

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deadmomjokes · 2 years ago

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oh wow I am so sorry to hear about your daughter having EOE - that sounds really rough. How do you navigate that?

At this point, with a lot of flailing.

It took 3.5 years to even get her properly diagnosed, not through lack of trying-- it's just a hard thing to differentiate, and the specialists that can actually do the test are dealing with a huge number of patients so they're always backed up. We're lucky: we live only an hour from the state children's hospital where they can do the diagnostic procedures, and it has a dedicated EOE specialty clinic that's one of the best in the country. It still takes 2 months to get an appointment as an established patient, and it took even longer to get her in on the initial referral. We're also lucky that she was able to explain to us what she was experiencing in a way that a doctor could take seriously and act on, and we're lucky that her primary care doctor did so.

But generally speaking, things suck spectacularly for pediatric EOE and GERD patients right now, at least in the US. The best medicine for treating it is omeprazole (prilosec), and there was exactly one manufacturer that made it in a suspension that small children could take. Well, that manufacturer decided it wasn't profitable enough, so they quit making it altogether. So now the next best, lansoprazole (prevacid), is on national back order for months because every child that was on the other one is now needing to switch.

So my daughter is currently on the next next best thing, because it was that or nothing, and it's just not working great for her. It keeps her from the worst of the pain, but she's back to not wanting to eat anything but bagels, one specific brand of cereal, and string cheese.

Back when she was officially diagnosed, her doctor gave us the option of going on a super dose of PPI meds, jumping straight to the steroids, or doing a full elimination diet with a nutritionist. For a kid, none of those options are great.

The PPIs reduce absorption of nutrients, which are already few and far between for a growing person with only a few tolerated foods. The steroids may have effects on a growing liver and kidneys, and also make you more prone to fungal infections and upper respiratory illnesses. Both have to be routinely dose-adjusted because the child is growing constantly, but you have to get an official weight/height check at the specialist to do so, which is always backed up. Then the elimination diet is...well, it's hard, to put it mildly, and it takes a really long time because of how delayed the reactions can be. Plus when you already don't like eating and only have a few 'safe foods', it's hard to cut back. Most people with EOE also have more than one trigger, so you have to eliminate a ton of things and hope you get them all, and you can't be on any medication while you're doing it because you have to be able to identify the point at which symptoms get better and then return.

In short, all the options suck.

We eventually decided on trying to get it under control enough with the meds to hopefully expand the foods she was willing to eat, in preparation for doing the elimination diet. It was working. Then the forced medication switch blew that all up. So we're just gonna grit our teeth and go with the elimination diet unless her specialist has another option for us.

But aside from that, it's been a lot of phone tag and appointment waiting, and a lot of readjusting the way we look at food and eating.

For her, whatever she will eat is a win. We've taken pressure off her to try new things. We still offer it, but we don't press if she's not feeling up to it. Reducing stress around the concept of trying new foods is super important, because she's already up against the stress of wondering whether it'll 'get stuck' or feel yucky or make 'the fires' worse.

We've also had to make sure we don't fall into the trap of trying to dictate how much she eats and when. Unless a meal is coming within the half hour, we let her have a snack when she's hungry-- wait too long, and she's in pain. Plus we want her to kind of train herself to respond to those hunger cues because her appetite can get so drastically reduced at times, every instance of her listening to an 'I'm hungry' is a win.

We also had to abandon the idea of the 'perfectly' balanced diet. Proteins are a struggle for her. Leafy greens are a struggle. So are other calcium containing foods like dairy and dairy alternatives. She really only likes carbs, mostly bread and fruit. But it's not like she can help it. Nobody purposefully restricts their diet just to be difficult-- a "picky eater" is someone who is struggling and needs accommodation, not judgement.

So we let her eat what she will eat, and work to find options that can get her the stuff she needs. Protein bars are a big hit with her right now, for example. A better texture than meat, they come in 'treat' flavors, and there are options that don't have all the added sugar that's gonna trigger the acid flareup. We make sure we get enriched flour and bread products so she gets at least some iron. We pick varieties that have added protein and calcium. We get juice with added vitamins and minerals. We stock the pantry with things that cater to her capabilities and needs wherever the two overlap. The goal is nutrition, whatever form that takes and whatever it looks like right now. Getting it "right" will come later. For now, we just need her to be comfortable with food and to learn how to work with her body.

This has also meant teaching her about nutrition, so we can help her take charge of her body's needs and help us think of ways to meet them. That's hard for a 3 year old, but there's a show called Storybots on Netflix, and they have a great episode on nutrition called "Why can't I eat dessert all the time?" Super accessible for kids, and has a catchy song describing macronutrient categories and why we need lots of different kinds of food, not just one kind. It was a perfect starting point, and we just kept at the explanations. Like when we would eat an apple with breakfast, we'd talk about how it has Vitamin C to help her cells be strong, fiber to help her tummy and intestines work well, and carbohydrates to help her have energy. Every time we try a new food, we talk about what's in it to help her body. That includes things like chips and cake--we're big on the concept of "all food has value, it's just some has more than others, so we eat the most of those."

So now, when she's had a "just bread" day we remind her that her body needs more than just carbs, and we can't get all our protein, fats, vitamins, and minerals from bread, so we should probably have something else too. 9 times out of 10, she'll add something to her request, like some blueberries or carrots. She might not eat a ton of it, but she tries, and that's what counts.

I know this is a mile long and probably way more than you were asking, but it's just one of those things that I have a lot to say about. I could talk all day about accessible eating and nutrition, as well as Going Off on our current medical system in the US, so if anyone has further questions, feel free to reach out.

#asks #eoe #life #long post

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loopspoop · 1 year ago

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This chapter is a bit shorter but it’s plot so ^^ I do what I want! Pop’s does some pretty sweet damage control in this one! Will Lupin wake up soon? Who knows!

TW: medical malpractice and other distressing medical procedures

Some time later, everyone sat upstairs on the ground beside Lupin’s bed. The stress from earlier had ebbed away once the group had talked things out and Lupin had been given medication to fight his fever and the infection. Now, however, they were faced with the files Goemon had snatched from the lab, and they were nervous. Nobody knew what they would find in there, or how bad it would be. But they had to read them if they wanted to fix Lupin, so they would have to do their best to sit through whatever was in the writing inside.

“Alright…here we go.” Jigen bit the inside of his cheek, tilting his hat up a bit as he opened the first file and began to read.

‘Day 1

Lupin has been sedated. He had quite a fit when I explained his purpose here, asking about his partners. For now, we prep for the first procedure at dawn tomorrow. This initial procedure will be to implant the obedience chip and I can test the newest optic model and how it functions.’

Goemon frowned, glancing back at Lupin. He wondered what his thoughts had been before he was sedated. Was he panicked? Maybe he thought he would’ve gotten out of it like he always had…? That thought made him feel worse. Lupin was always optimistic about coming out of tough situations unscathed. This time…this time he didn’t…

‘Day 2

The replacement was a success! Lupin was kept awake and strapped down while I preformed the craniotomy and enucleation. I’ll have to give him a paralytic next time, his screaming was annoying…’

Jigen cringed, taking a breath to steady himself. That was just sick…he glanced at the others. Fujiko held onto Lupin’s hand, her gaze downcast. He could see the tears in her eyes.. Goemon looked nauseous..he couldn’t blame him honestly. Pops looked a combination of pissed and disturbed that was hard to put a name to. Jigen cleared his throat, reading on.

‘I’ll have to run tests to see how the chip responds with his brain function and nervous system. With luck, I can influence his behaviors and movements. The new optic works better than expected! Facial recognition, night vision, infrared, it all works! I’ll have to add in some updates later, like some type of weaponry for tougher situations, but at least I won’t have to crack his skull open again. I’ll give him a recovery day to test things more and then we’ll begin the next phase of the procedures.’

Zenigata frowned deeply. “What the fuck..” he breathed, glancing at Lupin.

“This is just the second entry..” Fujiko whispered, covering her mouth with her hand as a few tears streamed down her cheeks.

Goemon frowned, shaking his head. “Lupin was awake for all of it…��

Jigen bit his lip, nodding a bit. “I’m thinking this will only get worse…” as much as he hated it, he had to press on…

‘Day 4.

Total removal of the forearm from the elbow down on the left side was successful. The paralytic was not necessary as the subject passed out halfway through the procedure. I managed to fuse his nerves with the more organic parts of the cybernetics so the subject can feel pain as an indication of malfunction or loss of vital parts. I will repeat this procedure with his legs and other implants. This cybernetic replacement is first of its kind and will need updated further later on. I made sure to keep his double jointed abilities in mind when making this piece. More flexible alloys will be utilized in the future. I plan on implanting a retractable weapon in each arm in later models. Though I pride myself in my enhancements, these are cheap for the time being as I plan on upgrading him anyhow. All upgrades will be for the sake of successful thefts and destruction of any obstacles, if need be. The subject will be given a rest day before I begin the next phase.’

Jigen frowned, looking through some nearby blueprints and schematics of Lupin’s cybernetics. He glanced at Zenigata, handing him some of the blueprints to look over. The man had a pretty good concept of robotics from how much he invented to catch them…hopefully they could sort things out..

Zenigata hummed, looking the papers over carefully as he frowned. “This is extensive…we’ll have our work cut out for us reattaching things and making sure they stay put..”

“We’ll do whatever we have to to assist in fixing Lupin.” Goemon frowned, looking at the papers angrily.

Fujiko frowned quietly, playing with Lupin’s fingers as she watched them. “We just need to figure out what everything does..”

Jigen nodded, sighing softly as he ran a hand through his hair before continuing on.

‘Day 6

Complete amputation of entire right leg was successful but with complications. The femoral artery was compromised and the subject nearly bled out on the operating table…’

Zenigata frowned deeply, turning to look at Lupin as he rubbed his nape. It explained why he was in such awful shape to begin with…Fujiko held onto Lupin’s hand tighter. He nearly died in there…her poor Lupin. Goemon paled slightly, glancing at Lupin. He felt more guilty than ever, knowing Lupin could’ve died there. Jigen read and reread the line over and over in his head..Lupin had been right down the hall…

‘I managed to seal the tear and finish the procedure without any more issues, though the subject will need more rest than I anticipated due to this mistake. Another procedure too soon could actually kill him and be waste my time and resources. Nothing special has been decided for the legs at this time in respect to weaponry, though I might make the metal resistant to electricity and extreme heat in the future. I’ve placed the sensitivity on the limbs on high so that he will not try to escape while resting. Procedures will resume in four days.’

“That’s why he freaked out when we touched him…” Jigen mumbled, tapping his foot as he frowned.

“Part of the reason why, anyway..” Goemon looked down, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You couldn’t have known.” Zenigata shook his head, trying to console them. “We’re still figuring everything out, after all.”

Fujiko nodded a bit. “Lupin would’ve been happy about seeing us if he was awake..” she was trying to convince herself of that at least…

‘Day 10

The subject tried to escape despite the sensitivity on the cybernetics being increased. I’ve invested in using electricity as a means of control. I find it works best when used directly on the cybernetics-‘

Jigen put the papers down, shaking his head. No. He wasn’t reading this anymore. He couldn’t imagine this all happening down the hall. Goemon bit down on his lip hard, his hands shaking. That must have been part of where the burns came from. Zenigata growled in disgust, snatching the papers quickly as Fujiko cried silently into Lupin’s arm.

‘I completed the removal of the left leg below the knee. Subject did well during this procedure and was semi-lucid through the process. I’ve decided to keep him chained in the lab so I have easy access to him in the event he decides to act out or attempt to escape again. Procedures will resume after a day of rest.”

Jigen pulled his hat low, biting on his lip silently. Part of him hoped Lupin wouldn’t remember anything…he prayed he didn’t, honestly. Goemon looked at the floor silently. Lupin had been through hell..he should’ve gone to rescue everyone sooner. Fujiko held onto Lupin, glancing at Zenigata as more tears fell silently. Zenigata sighed, taking a moment before reading again.

‘Day 12

I replaced the lower section of vertebrae and added additional cybernetic implants on the torso to test how they would fare. I hope this will make the body more resistant to back and rib injuries in the future. However, the subject has developed infection in the burn sites from the electrocution. I’ve washed the wounds and tested how the cybernetics handle being submerged. They handled submersion well, so I will continue to wash the wounds until I can begin procedures again. Will check back in tomorrow.

Day 13

Subject has been less than conscious since yesterday. The infection has taken a significant toll and he has begun to call out for his comrades. It’s a good thing they’ve been detained in my cells. I’ve decided to leave the subject chained in the lab to sleep the infection off and check back tomorrow to make sure the obedience chip is stable.’

“Fuck..Fuck!” Jigen kicked the wall angrily, huffing as he clenched his fists. “He was calling for us and we were just down the hall!”

Goemon bit down on his lip hard, taking deep breaths as he closed his eyes tightly. He had taken too long to get there…Lupin had been calling for them..for him..and he hadn’t been there to save him. Poor Lupin had lived through unspeakable horrors that nobody could begin to imagine.. Fujiko frowned, looking down silently as she wiped at tears that continued to fall. Lupin had wanted them there with him…he wanted their comfort and he had been left all alone and in pain in that cold, dark lab. They had let him down.. Zenigata frowned, sighing as he took the notebook and hid it on the top shelf of the closet. Nobody needed to see this thing again..only the schematics for the cybernetics and thankfully those were separate from those horrific notes. Now he just had to take care of the gang..

“He called for us…” Jigen said softly, a few stray tears making their way down his face.

“And you came. It might’ve taken a bit but you all came for him.” Zenigata frowned, looking down at them gently. “He would’ve been grateful and I know he will be when he wakes up. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

The group of distressed thieves looked at the inspector. It was a look he had rarely, if ever, received from the group. It was uncertainty…fear…they were beyond worried for their leader. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t worried either..but he knew Lupin better than anyone. The man would bounce back with twice the vigor he normally had once he was up, he was sure of it! For now, he had to handle the rest of the gang.

“Alright, you three. You’ve left me no choice.” He stood, walking out to the hallway.

“Wha- Pops-?” Jigen hesitated, looking out after him in confusion.

“He’s decided to leave us..” Fujiko mumbled, resting her head against the bed sadly. Zenigata wouldn’t want to chase them like this…

Goemon watched quietly, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the others. “Is he actually-?”

“I’m not leaving!” Zenigata called, rolling his eyes as he walked back in with an armful of blankets and pillows before arranging them beside the bed carefully. “I’m not that much of a bastard that I would leave you like this.”

“What the hell are you doing then-?” Jigen tilted his head, watching quietly.

“We’re sleeping on the ground, apparently..” Fujiko shrugged. At least this time there would be blankets.

Goemon watched quietly, awkwardly helping arrange some of the pillows. “I’d assume so?”

“Yes. But you’re all going to get in that blanket pile and relax. Lupin will be fine. He would want you to take care of yourselves. Would you want him to worry himself ragged over you if you were in his place?” Zenigata placed his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow as he regarded them.

Jigen frowned. “No..” he sighed softly.

Fujiko rubbed her nape, shaking her head. “No..” she loved attention but..she wouldn’t want that..

Goemon shook his head. “We would not.”

“See? So take some time to rest and process all of this. You’ll be doing the same for him when he wakes up. You’ll all have to do it together so just…take it easy. Alright?” Zenigata smiled a bit, pushing them toward the blankets hopefully.

Goemon regarded the pile quietly before taking a seat propped between the corner of the bed and the wall. He opened his arms, looking at Jigen and Fujiko expectantly. Fujiko smiled a little, snuggling up to the samurai on one side while Jigen laid against his other. Zenigata watched as the group made themselves comfortable before they all looked at him.

“What..?” Zenigata raised an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously.

“You gonna get in here or not, old man?” Jigen looked at him from under his hat curiously.

“Yeah, we’re not keeping all of this to ourselves, inspector.” Fujiko smiled tiredly, resting her head against Goemon’s chest.

Goemon nodded, smiling faintly as he waved the inspector in. “There is room for one more.”

Zenigata hesitated, smiling sheepishly as he laid up against Jigen cautiously. He laughed a bit when the gunman pulled him closer into the group before he pulled the blankets up on everyone carefully. Jigen pushed the inspectors hat down over his eyes before doing the same with his own as he rested back on Goemon’s side. The samurai laid back against the corner he had sat himself in, closing his eyes as he carefully played with Jigen and Fujiko’s hair. Fujiko sighed softly, closing her eyes as she curled into Goemon’s side gently. They were all finally getting to relax..and hopefully Lupin would wake up soon so he could join in next time.

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wooziorgans · 9 months ago

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Hmmmmm idrk any trans person (especially ftm) irl who I know so I wanted to ask you certain doubts I had about trans people in general and feel free to skip or answer whichever question you are comfortable with

1. Have you gotten a top/bottom surgery?

2. If you have gotten bottom surgery what exactly happens. I e heard they enlarge the clitoris to give it a penile shape but I am not sure. If yes does it get hard like other penises do?

3. What was your parents/relatives reaction coming out trans? Because coming out trans is worse than coming out gay from my experiences.

4. What is your love life irl like? D people get turned off when you tell them you're trans not cus often?

5. If you have done top surgery does it also affect your nipples? Cuz from what I know male nipples look much different than female nipples.

6. Do you feel safer as a man while travelling alone in public places or at night or is it same like a woman?

Again all my questions are from genuine curiosity so hope you don't feel offended by any of them

-🍓girl

1. i have gotten top surgery. i do not want bottom surgery bcs i personally don’t think it’s advanced enough as a medical procedure for me to get it. like i just don’t think the procedure is developed enough for me to want to take the risk for it.

2. from what I know about bottom surgery, there are two types. one is smaller and can get hard on its own. they use what growth you gain from taking testosterone to build the dick. the other type requires a pump in one of your balls to get you hard. that one required a skin graft from the arm or thigh because it’s bigger in appearance.

but with taking testosterone, the clit gets bigger bcs the introduction of testosterone will do that. women who body build and take steroids (which is just low dose testosterone) typically have enlarged clits. and it does give the clit the shape of a dick kind of.

3. honestly it wasn’t great. my extended family on one side was much more understanding because i have a gay cousin on that side. but my family is generally very religious. even though ive been out for nearly 7 years, i constantly get dead named and misgendered when im around my religious family members.

my parents didn’t take it well at all. but i had to double down and explain that it was detrimental to my health that they at least try and understand. and when i started seeing doctors to get on testosterone, my doctor provided information on support groups for parents of trans kids and it helped them quite a bit. but i think im quite lucky with how things worked out at home.

4. honestly my love life has been fine. i dated a straight woman once and it wasn’t an issue. i do pass really well, so physically i look like a guy. and if ppl are attracted to masculinity then im not an exception to that just bcs i don’t have a dick n balls.

and honestly when it comes to romance, i typically tell people im interested in about me being trans to avoid any extra hurt in the future. like I would never talk to someone with romantic intent with out telling them about it, because there’s the chance it would be a turn off for them, and i would prefer to not get my heart broken bcs of it.

5. my nipples are the same ones i had when i had boobs. they’re a little bit smaller (trimmed down by my surgeon), but they’re not centred like they would be on a pair of boobs? they’re more outwards towards my arms if that makes any sense. it looks like a male chest basically (w surgery scars n nipples that are slightly bigger).

however, my nipples themselves don’t stick out or get hard anymore but that’s bcs of nerve damage from having surgery. which isn’t an issue for me personally.

6. typically yes, i do feel safer now compared to before. but i still (despite the fact that I pass quite well) run into the issue of people thinking im a woman. it’s not as common anymore bcs i will talk to ppl and they’ll hear my deep ass voice and be like “oh shit”.

but when i was growing out my hair, travelling at night was scary bcs i looked a lot more feminine. im also not tall. like at all,,? So from the back i do look like a woman. just w rlly broad shoulders. people walking in the same direction as me have cat called me before. its ass.

#☼wo talks #☼🍓anon

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rahonn · 1 year ago

Text

Remember me (1/2)

Eustass Kid x GN!Reader (third person POV)

Warning! Heavy Angst / Graphic Description of Corpses / Medical Procedures / Hurt No Comfort / wound fetish / Blood Fetish / Injury Fetish / Blood and Gore / Murder / Blood / Violence / Sexual Violence / Domestic Violence / blood and guts and stuff / there's also a penis / Not Suitable/Safe For Work / Dead People / Corpses / Torture / Blood and Torture / Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

_____________________________________

Heavy footsteps echoed through empty, white hallway. Quick, hurried steps stopped as the man struggled to breathe, looking at huge metal door. Stomach content still burned his throat, he felt bile riding again, but forcefully pushed it down, swallowing hard. His reputation would be flushed down the drain if he dared to vomit here. Doing it near the scene of a crime wasn’t that big of a problem, he could easily explain it, but not here. Especially not when he was about to face his nemesis.

He put hand up, palm pressed against cold steel door. Without even knocking, he pushed it and took a step inside. Cold grey eyes looked up at him from darkness, shining slightly behind round glasses. Swallowing hard, he pushed his chest out. He was the one with sheriff’s title, not this wild thing hiding behind the desk, under long white coat, like a wolf in sheep’s skin. But even if he knew that, it took a lot of mental strength for him to just part his chapped lips. “We have another body. It’ll be here in two hours.” His voice unnecessarily loud made the thing frown. He waited for usual snarky remark about his incompetence, because he did fuck up catching the perp last time, but nothing came. The thing sighed, put its freakish looking, tattooed hands on the desk. Chair scraped painfully against cold concrete floor as the thing stood up. He felt shivers competing with cold sweat running down his back as the thing stretched a bit, cracking its joints and yawning.

“You have photos this time, right?” there it was, the tone he loathed. He always felt like a child talking with this freak of nature. Like he had to know that it would want to see photos of a crime scene. As if it couldn’t just go and work with its colleagues on the site.

“Yes, I mailed them to you” his voice got quieter as he noticed the thing moving towards him with unsettling smile, excited twinkle in its eyes. He remembered suddenly why exactly they didn’t want it to go into the field where dogs with cameras waited patiently for any crumb of sensation. And this deranged look on coroner’s face was exactly what they needed.

“Let me guess, you also called up Trafalgar, hm?”

He nodded, regretting deeply not sending any of newbies to deliver the news. The thing smiled even wider, two silver dots on either side of its mouth glinted in dim light and he shuddered again. Why did it have to come so close to him? He could almost hear all loose screws rattling around in its brain.

“Tell him to come here too. I’d love to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in years.”

He muttered something, he didn’t really remember what, anything to respond to it and he was already back in the hallway, speedwalking away from that damned place. Why? Why did it have to choose this particular town where he was sheriff? He didn’t notice his own legs working faster, his body feeling imminent disaster coming. As soon as he fell out through main entrance, cold January air hit him, millions of tiny needles stabbing his sweaty skin. Panting heavily, he wobbled down the path to his patrol car, but his stomach couldn’t handle all of the stress. He lost this battle too, muscles contracting violently to bend him down so he could vomit in the bushes with the force of thousand suns.

Trafalgar sighed, wanting nothing more than to just go back home. This wasn’t quit and easy job asshole of a sheriff promised, but once he got into the suit and actually saw the crime scene, he couldn’t refuse. He knew they had to act fast to not let clues get buried under fresh layer of snow. They didn’t really have a choice, it was either him or- Another heavy sigh escaped his lips. Warm, moist air clung on the inside of surgical mask.

“We’re done here!” he heard Penguin call somewhere behind him. With a grunt and audibly hearing his knees crack, he got up, plastic disposable suit rustling quietly. Last piece of material he could find in this damn snow laid safe in small string bag, packed away in much bigger, heavier evidence bag. If the snow was white, he wouldn’t have so much problems. Unfortunately, the ground was red all over.

He didn’t take the news good, Trafalgar really wanted to go back home with his husband. Instead, he marched down the hallway of partially closed hospital to meet his rival from college. His former best friend that introduced him to Bepo in the first place two years before disappearing from the face of this Earth. Now, after almost ten years after they graduated, he’d see human he once knew. Human that everyone referred to by ‘it’, never by name. At first it infuriated him. How dare they all reduce his best friend to an object? But they explained that no, god no, they weren’t treating it like an object.

“It’s a monster” they whispered, looking around as if mere mentioning it would spawn it into existence.

Law saw dim light seeping from under solid metal door and stopped. Something was not right. Body should be in there, already on the table, ready to be analyzed for any possible trace of perpetrator’s DNA. Lights should be turned on to full brightness.

As soon as he pushed the door, the confusion only grew. Body indeed laid on the table. Doctor indeed worked on it. But the singular source of light, lamp similar what you’d find in dentist office, was positioned to shine only on one spot where coroner worked, meticulously taking sample after sample. “Hey” he spoke up, ready for bubbly personality to take over, to feel breath being forced out of his lungs by impact when he’d inevitably would be crushed in a hug. But doctor only straightened back and looked at him. Due to mask covering lower half of the face, he couldn’t see if there was any smile at all. Because the eyes definitely weren’t smiling.

“Hi, Law. It’s good to see you.”

The voice, cold and emotionless, shook him to his core. Who was that? The name was the same, but stories and now mannerisms didn’t match what he remembered.

How much could one person change in ten years?

“Cut the bullshit. What happened for you to suddenly want to meet me?” Trafalgar let the burning question escape him finally. He pondered for so many years why there was no contact, why only the person right in front of him didn’t attend his wedding or even reach out to congratulate him? This wasn’t the same love-obsessed idiot who wanted to be his best mate whenever he decided to marry.

Unknown stepped away from the table, leaving body alone in circle of light, and pointed at the counter to the right. Law looked. Bunch of folded cloth laid along there along with box of gloves exactly in his size. He wanted to protest, demand answers. Yet he put on clean lab coat along with two pairs of nitril gloves and stepped to the table. Two top students of their year entered circle of light, this time on opposite sides of the table, feeling so unfamiliar yet right in that moment.

“Look here” quiet voice sounded like a gunshot in silent, cold room as long gloved finger pointed to the mess of guts on the table. Law did look and at first he remembered how snow looked at the scene of a crime – bloody patch against whiteness of the ground. Now red open stomach contrasted similarly to blueish white skin of the deceased. Stomach’s skin hanged on both sides of the body, torn to shreds right in the middle. It was miracle any of the guts were intact. But where finger pointed there was a hole in small intestine. Trafalgar bent down to see better. Hole looked as if it was cut. “Now, look here” other gloved hand moved source of light to shine on massacred face. Nose was broken in such a way it laid sideways under left eye. Or lack of left eye. Blood, already dry, was flaking off the skin, uncovering large, purple bruises. Upper lip, split in two, looked like that of a cat and showed lack of few teeth and few more broken. But once again, gloved finger pointed at the eye socket where eye should be, but now resided white and red mess. “Here” it moved to the neck, wound only a couple inches wide right under the chin. Injury created another way into the mouth from under the tongue, ripping it slightly from the base. “And here” light moved again, to the chest, where two ribs were clearly broken by unknown object being forced between them, ripping muscles.

Trafalgar saw a lot in those ten years, at first working as a surgeon, then as a coroner. But whenever he saw body torn to shreds like this one, people assumed it was a bear or mountain lion. This time it couldn’t possibly be the explanation. At first, he had his doubts about what officers were muttering between themselves about it being work of a human. Now, under this light with gloved finger of brilliant coroner pointing out injuries that couldn’t be inflicted by wildlife without completely destroying the body, he was convinced.

“It’s fifth body like this in a span of five years. Every year it shows up on the same date around this town, never in the same place twice” voice told him what he already knew in the same emotionless tone. It didn’t match what sheriff told him – this supposed monster didn’t enjoy the case in a way they all thought. “And I have an idea who and why.”

Law looked up at his once best friend, for the first time this close, and he froze. There was no light in those eyes, as if life got sucked straight out of them. There was something else that bothered him. Scar right above left eye went through an eyebrow in clean, straight line just to suddenly turn ninety degrees and as a jagged mess end in the middle of the forehead. Injury had to bleed a lot, hurt too.

When their eyes met again, he knew whatever information and speculations were cooking up in that brain would turn his world upside down.

“Who? Who could do something like this?” Trafalgar asked, feeling like he should just turn around, leave and never come back, forget he ever knew whoever this person turned into.

“Question should be – why did I point out those three specific injuries” coroner clicked tongue against teeth and sighed. “Think, Law, and look closer. What do you see here?”

Trafalgar gritted his teeth. What kind of game was it? “Can’t you just tell me? Do you have to turn this in some kind of gruesome charades?”

But the finger just pointed at the injuries. “Look closer. If I tell you what I know, you wouldn’t believe me. No one would.”

That’s why he was called here. All anger, disappointment, resentment, sadness. All of it evaporated, leaving behind only cold, empty realization – once this was over, he wouldn’t be the same man that walked into this hospital.

He leaned in again, inspecting wounds with ridiculous precision. In the meantime, other doctor continued working where the light pointed, not even uttering one word. Law looked into bloody, meaty mess. Body was already cold, muscles tightened long ago in rigor mortis and it’d be another two to three days for it to pass. But as Law looked at all the blood, torn skin and muscles, organs ripped out of the abdominal cavity that his crew had to gather directly from snowy ground, he still didn’t know what was he supposed to find out.

“Forceps” he instinctively said reaching across the table as if he was in his own autopsy room. Before he could add something however, instrument landed on his outstretched palm as if the supposed monster anticipated this demand. Law had to fight years of nostalgia building up, push memories down to focus. This wasn’t the time nor the place to be reminiscing about the past and all those years lost forever. He pulled the light towards abdominal cavity and put tip of forceps into small hole in the intestine. Something about that hole was weird. Sure, it was definitely cut out with a pair of scissors or something similar, but something else bothered him. Why did it look like the wound was stretched? “Do you have a flashlight or something?” he asked and once again, whatever he needed appeared quickly right in his hand. Armed with precise lighting, he leaned in even more. He stretched the hole a bit, trying to look how big of an object had to be to cause intestine to become so loose around the wound. It had to be more than two inches in diameter at least. As he moved intestine around a bit, he noticed something shiny covering it from the inside in one particular place. Just as he was about to ask about swab to take a sample, gloved hand appeared in front of his face with test tube already labeled. Squinting hard and turning his head to the side, he cursed at almost indecipherable writing. Only thing he knew for sure was first letter – S.

Brain connected the dots and before he could even realize it, his body moved with new source of light to look at the eye socket. White and red. Red was obviously blood.

“No” he muttered, shining light into the mouth through small opening where teeth were supposed to be. “God, no.” He moved one last time to take a closer look at the hole between ribs. More than two inches in diameter. Again. Circular. Again.

“Unfortunately, yes” the voice finally spoke up and Law just looked at whatever was left of his best friend. Doctor took off the mask, revealing another nasty scar going from right under right eye, through upper lip, making half of it permanent scar and ending in the middle of left side of the jaw. “And I have an idea who might be behind it.” Doctor lifted up head. Another scar. Injury would create another way into the mouth from under the tongue. Lab coat got unbuttoned with fingers too steady for this type of revelations. Left hand pushed coat to the side so the right hand could lift the shirt up.

Trafalgar saw many injuries throughout his career as medical practitioner, but he never saw ones with this context, because the scars matched perfectly with the body laid out on the table. Not only that, there were far more scar tissue than he anticipated after seeing what the face looked like.

His once best friend lowered their shirt, pointing to the tube. “It is exactly what you think it is. And he did that because I left him exactly five years ago.”

Second chapter:

#one piece #op #eustass kid #one piece eustass kid #eustass kidd #eustass kid fanfiction #op eustass kid #fanfiction #eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #I had so much fun writing this omg

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snackerdoodle · 2 years ago

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(Inspired by this post, but separate to avoid derailing.)

I’m going to get more personal here than I would really like to, but I know a lot of other people have had awful gynecologist experiences, and I hope sharing both the negative and positive experiences could help.

I have had three Pap smears. The first two were traumatic, not in a hyperbolic way but in an “I cried about them to my therapist when trying to face the idea of having to get another one and she specifically called it medical trauma” kind of way.

For me, they were extremely painful, and I was told “no it isn’t,” both by the doctors in the moment and by everything I was able to look up about Pap smears afterwards. Counterintuitively, I was also told that if it was painful, it was because I was doing something wrong. The only people I saw saying Pap smears hurt were other women who had had terrible gynecologist appointments and who were also planning on never going back.

After my first experience, I did what you are supposed to and warned my next doctor that my last experience was painful. Some warning signs that I should have left and found a different doctor include that she acted inconvenienced by that idea, and then was actively annoyed by my admission that I’d never had penis-in-vagina sex, because that would presumably have made it easier to insert the speculum. I went through with the procedure with her anyway, and she somehow couldn’t reach my cervix at first and guilted me for it while actively rooting around in my vagina. I felt like I had to go through with it once it had started, but I kind of wish I had exercised my rights and called it quits. Which is something you can absolutely do. If you’re uncomfortable with the way your doctor is talking to you, or if you think something is going wrong and your doctor is ignoring your needs, you can call off the whole thing and go somewhere else.

Aside from the physical pain and misplaced blame, in both of my bad experiences I was explicitly told that part of the problem was that I wasn’t having “real sex” (referring, of course, to penis-in-vagina sex). If anyone ever asks, I will confidently tell them that the most homophobic experiences I’ve had have been in the gynecologist’s office.

After years of being nagged by my primary care doctor and multiple therapy appointments, I researched my options and was able to find a specifically LGBTQ+ aligned clinic. In my research, I also found that, while gynecologists seem to understand and discuss the need for trauma-informed practice, it is hard to find gynecologists who describe themselves as trauma informed.

At my third Pap smear, I explained my past experiences to the doctor. After listening, the doctor gave me a list of options that could suit a variety of comfort levels. These included a traditional Pap smear, the doctor trying to swab my cervix without using a speculum, and me self administering the test in private, also without a speculum. I chose the last one, and she gave me a swab and detailed instructions on what to do. The only risk to this approach was the possibility that I might not get a usable sample. In that case, I would have to come back to the office to try again. I was able to get a usable sample on the first try, and it was so quick and easy that I’m honestly baffled that this isn’t how Pap smears are usually administered.

Some green flags at this appointment included that I was given space to explain my past experiences, I was not criticized or judged for those experiences, and the conversation about what I needed happened before any move toward the exam table. In fact, that doctor never even touched me. I was also given clear explanations of my options, and the doctor explicitly included the option of leaving the office without getting a Pap smear at all.

Pap smears do not have to be painful or traumatic, and I’m angry that I had to have the first two experiences before the third. I understand that there is probably a reason the traditional method is preferred, but I strongly believe that by actually presenting patients with options and treating us with respect, getting a Pap smear can become a significantly less awful experience. And if patients don’t feel dehumanized and abused for experiencing pain during an objectively unpleasant procedure, they might actually get the tests done.

I have been one of the women who considered just never getting any more Pap smears, in spite of the risks, and I’m glad I had an experience that changed my mind. I hope others who have had negative experiences, or even who are worried about it, are given the choices I was and are able to advocate for themselves and be heard and respected.

#Pap smear #cervical cancer #medical trauma #snackerdooodle actually makes a post #Homophobia cw a bit too #Medical cw #Gynecology

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pumpkinheadspacestation · 2 years ago

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hihi!

im a fellow chronically ill age regressor and i struggle quite a bit with doctors visits.

things ive found to help are-

bringing a friend, have someone comforting come with you, weather just for the drive or to come in the room with you that can be helpful

stuffies, i always bring stuffies, for bigger procedures i bring my build a bear lamb and for appointments i bring a smaller friend in my bag. i've genuinely never had an issue with it and get tons of compliments from nurses and such

letter, for some medical stuff i struggle with explaining things because of how nervous i get so i will bring a letter explaining what needs to happen/adressing the appointment and sometimes explaining my fear

distractions, i try my best to bring a distraction such as a book, a video game, drawing stuff, crochet, whatever hobby makes you happy

treats, i like to bring a drink or small snack for after the appointment, cold drinks with a straw are especially nice to help regulate breathing

something to keep your hands busy, during appointments i like to bring something like a beaded bracelet that i can fiddle with if i dont need to stay still

try to be gentle with yourself, its harder said than done i know but try to keep your day free-ish or calm, try to spend time afterwards doing self care and try not to pressure yourself to do hard things after

hopefully any of this helps you. you are so brave and doing such a good job, i understand how hard it can be and i am so proud of you for going to appointments and reaching out for help. my anons and dms are always open, @stary-regression

Thank you so much, I really appreciate you!!! It's difficult to express my gratitude for this, I have a lot of medical trauma and it makes me fearful of going to drs appointments, I appreciate you helping me out! I'm going to try these things in the future, I think bringing a distraction and a friend could definitely help

#sfw littlespace #age regression community #sfw age regressor #sfw smolspace #sfw agere #sfw age regression #caregiver #agere chronic illness

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milesmosleyy · 3 months ago

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The Powerful Ozone Therapy Benefits You Didn’t Know About

Medical professionals worldwide have started paying more attention to alternative treatments that show real results.

Among these treatments, ozone therapy stands out for addressing multiple health concerns at once.

Many patients who try this treatment report improvements that go beyond their initial expectations.

Understanding the Treatment

Think of ozone therapy as giving the body extra oxygen — but with a twist. This specialized form of oxygen helps cells work better and heal faster.

Medical providers use different methods to deliver this treatment, always tailoring their approach to each person’s needs.

Pain Management Success

Nothing disrupts daily life quite like ongoing pain. Many people discover ozone therapy benefits when regular treatments haven’t helped enough.

Back pain, joint problems, and sports injuries often improve with this treatment. The extra oxygen reduces swelling and helps damaged tissues recover.

Common problems that respond well to treatment:

Ongoing joint discomfort

Sports-related injuries

Muscle strains and tears

Nerve-related pain

Recovery after workouts

The Healing Process

The body naturally wants to heal itself. Ozone therapy simply gives it better tools to do so.

Skin and Wound Care

Better Healing

Skin problems and stubborn wounds can make anyone feel frustrated. The concentrated oxygen in ozone therapy helps speed up healing and fights bacteria that cause infections.

Many people notice their wounds starting to heal faster within the first few treatments.

The treatment helps with:

Hard-to-heal wounds

Skin infections

Face and body acne

Recovery after procedures

Old injury sites

Real Treatment Experience

Getting ozone therapy feels different from a regular doctor visit. The treatments take place in clean, professional settings.

Most sessions last about an hour, giving the body time to absorb and use the extra oxygen. Many people actually find their treatment time relaxing.

What to Expect

Each session builds on the one before it. While some people notice changes right away, others find their improvements happen gradually over several weeks.

The steady progress often encourages people to complete their full treatment course.

Beyond Basic Benefits

The effects of ozone therapy reach further than most people expect. Better blood flow means more energy throughout the day.

A stronger immune system helps fight off common illnesses. Many people sleep better and feel more alert during their daily activities.

Daily Life Changes

Patients often notice small but important changes in their daily routines. Stairs become easier to climb.

Professional Care Matters

Finding the right medical provider makes a big difference in treatment results. Good providers take time to understand each person’s health history and concerns.

They explain how ozone therapy benefits might help and set realistic expectations for improvement.

Treatment Planning

No two people need exactly the same treatment plan. Some might need just a few sessions, while others benefit from ongoing care. The right provider adjusts treatments based on how each person responds.

Looking Forward

More medical offices now offer ozone therapy alongside their regular treatments.

This gives patients more options for dealing with health problems. As more people try the treatment and share their experiences, understanding of its usefulness continues to grow.

Making Good Choices

Anyone thinking about ozone therapy should talk with qualified medical providers first. Good providers welcome questions and explain things clearly. They help people understand what the treatment can and cannot do.

The growing acceptance of ozone therapy shows how medicine keeps finding new ways to help people feel better.

While not every treatment works for everyone, many people find that ozone therapy gives them improvements they couldn’t get any other way.

#Ozone Therapy Benefits #Oxygen Therapy #Ozone Therapy For Acne #Immune System Boosting

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aussiemicrodoser · 2 years ago

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pomegranate-pen · 2 years ago

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Lackadaisy you say? How about some Rocky angst with a fem reader because I am extraordinarily concerned with his well-being in the comics. Thanks for this! Please have a cookie for your troubles 🍪

Rocky Rickaby x gn! reader

(pronouns weren't really needed to be specified here, so one can easily see this as gn! reader.)

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries and gun wounds. implied intense fight and in general, 1920s fiascos. angst with some fluff in the middle. not much of an intense angst I think- kind of ooc rocky if you haven't read the comic???

A/N: first of all, I'm quite shocked and delighted to see that a lackadaisy request was a first one to be sent!! and for my favorite character nonetheless! I was honestly expecting a welcome home one at first, since the x reader for that is much more popular at the moment and thriving. nonetheless, this was a pleasant surprise! second, for some reason, writing angst for someone like Rocky was difficult- even though he has such a tragic childhood, it's hard to make angst x reader for him without making it 20k words full of plot and explaining and expanding relationships- or at least, that's how it is for me. though difficult, I tried my best to give a angsty with some slight fluff fic, for this one I recommend remembering that one chapter in the comics where Rocky got hit in the head and after being patched up was in the car with Ivy and opening up a bit about his childhood, that's the moment i took inspiration from to write this. I'm not sure how to feel about this one, but i truly hope you all enjoy it!!!

On such a rainy night like this, you’ve expected nothing less than staying in your tiny room, a warm sweater comforting you and a hot mug of tea calming your senses, as you look at the rain droplets hitting the window.

However, fate seemed to have other plans for you. for rather than a peaceful night away from chaos, your sweater is stained with splotches of blood and the mug of tea has been long forgotten in your room. the rain doesn’t sound as calming as it had before anymore, rather, it's noisy and it's stressful. With sounds of thunder cackling left and right, your new focus isn't the window in your room anymore, rather, it’s the injured Rocky Rickaby that lies motionless on your couch, a gunshot wound to the shoulder and leg painting his clothes red. his lucky tie, with circles of blood around it, had to be removed, and his pine-strip coat that was riddled with mud had to be thrown to the bathroom sink.

You’re a mere in-training nurse and the three people in your house at the moment- are your neighborhood friends. Being a regular at the little café they worked in has made you know a thing or two about each other. Though, it seems like they left out a big portion of who they truly are away from you and maybe- well surely- everyone else in the public.

Ivy was the one who banged on your door first, a sound so loud that it made you forget the haziness of sleep crawling into your mind and making you jump. As you opened the door, you were met with the frazzled trio, all hair messed up and clothes soaked, droplets of blood leaving a trail to the ground beneath you, and Freckle holding what seemed to be a bloody Rocky in his arms, the latter which was so out of it that for a moment, you thought he was a corpse now.

With a scared gasp, you frantically wanted to ask what happened and what caused such a scene, but realized that there was not much time for an explanation when they laid down Rocky on the couch and pleaded for you to fix him up.

With rookie hands, a left-over roll of bandage, a sewing kit, and some utensils that are normally not suitable for medical procedures, you patched him up and realized some much more unnerving information.

The gun wound on his shoulder was so close to his neck. if the perpetrator shot one inch higher, then there would be no more strange poems sung in the height of morning, no more talks about different jazz bands around the block or listenings to his tunes as he played the violin, trying to convince you that he’s a prime violin player amongst all the others in Mississippi, maybe even reciting a poem he just thought of at that moment. There would have been no more of the strange waiter you grew so fond of, whom you’ve talked to so much throughout the morning weekends. the one you considered most as a friend than anyone else in the café and new city these past few months. it made your heart drop, and you couldn’t understand why, how are you so hurt by this? why is the idea of his death, of his absence in your life so important to you? you shook your head, annoyed by your own complicated thoughts, your feeling unwilling to cooperate with your mind,

You glance back to your room, the place you offered Ivy and Freckle to rest up in, since they looked extremely exhausted and out of breath. with a bit more focused staring, you could guess that they’ve peacefully dozed off, leaving you widely awake and still unaware of what kind of fiasco they've done.

Great. You sighed, a yawn almost escaping you as you peered at the clock and realize what time it was.

2:30 a.m.

thank god tomorrow was Friday.

and as much as your limbs and eyes beg for some good shut-eye, your mind was too preoccupied to sleep, too into its own fight with itself to let your heart calm down and rest. so you decided to make some tea and stay close by Rocky, in case he woke up.

The tea took a solid twenty minutes to fully prepare, the preparation for it merely taking less than that. The thunders and storms have stopped, but little pitter-patters of the rain can still be heard. The cup of tea stayed untouched on the table (your mug was still left in your room, and you couldn’t bring yourself to possibly wake up the others by walking in), yet despite your thirst for it a few hours ago, now seeing it, you found yourself unable to freshen up your apetite, and realized that you made the tea as a mere excuse to stay awake.

With the silence and rain your only company, your mind drifted to memory land. Memories of you and Rocky debating about the best breakfast or best poets in the morning of spring, eating pancakes since Rocky insisted that it was the day's special, and it must be cherished as that. you remember how much he spoke fondly of pancakes and how for a moment, he spoke about how his aunt used to make pancakes when he was a child. Rocky never really spoke about his life, let alone his childhood. And so, since the opportunity arose, you decided to ask him a question.

“Were you and your aunt close?”

He tensed up by that, choking a bit on his tea and glancing away from your gaze. “uh…yes? Well, um-“ he gives a nervous grin. Thick eyebrows positioned in a state where you'd think he's done a mistake of sorts. “ I’m closer to Freckle than her.” He didn’t give anything further than that, and with how tense he seemed for a relaxed guy like himself, you decided to not question further.

now with thinking about this day, your suspicion towards everything has increased. has he been lying about everything the entire time? whats his actual job, and what has he done that made him end up like this? the more questions you thought of, the more frustrated you felt.

You’ll admit, you’ve heard some… rumors, about the establishment before, but you just considered them as they were. Simple white rumors existing to just to satisfy the drama-hungry people in this world. But tonight, with the dilated-pupils of Freckle, the out of breathiness of Ivy, and the gun wounds of Rocky, you wonder how much of the rumor was true and how much of who they said they were was a lie.

You felt hurt, offended even. With a now clear mind, you now can presume why they didn’t go to the hospital or an actual doctor and settled for an in-training nurse close to their café instead.

“Mnngh….”

The blurred, tired, and worn-out voice of your companion on the couch made you flinch. Your head twist’s in his direction, as his eyes start to blink a few times slowly, the lids becoming more open with each blink and he soon starts trying to move. He shuffled with his body a bit and as he tries to move his shoulder-

“Wait, Rocky—“

He hissed in pain and falls back down to the couch. You put your palm on his head, checking his temperature just in case.

“you’ve heated up quite a bit, stay here. I’ll bring you some water.”

Rocky mumbled something, shifting his head left and right and his eyes squinted from the lights in the room. “….where…am I?...” he looks back at you. “are…are you an angel from the heavens?”

If this situation wasn’t so dark, you’d laugh at his cheeky comment. “ No, I’m Y/n, Rocky.”

It took him a few moments to process your words, the moments in which you quickly left to bring the water.

“h-hold on…-“ as he grabs the glass with his healthy arm, his eyes widened. “Y/n?!-aughh-“ from shock, his body tried to move up, completely forgetting the wounds on his body. You put a hand on his head and urged him to lay back down. “if you move too much, your wounds will open up.”

Rocky, however, didn’t seem too worried about the wounds as he tried to hoist himself up a bit so he could lean in the armchair. You helped him out, grabbing his waist and gently pushing him upward so he could lean down. The water, which has spilled a bit on the floor with all the moving, is now chucked down in one gulp. The glass is set down on the table and the questions began.

“how..” he cleared his throat, his head now clear and focused. “ how did I get here?”

“ Ivy and Freckle brought you.”

“and…uh…” he looks away from your serious gaze, ears now lowered in fear and a sheepish look on his face. “have they… enlightened you with the story of this—” he motions to his wounds. “—yet?”

You squint at him, now leaning on the couch with crossed arms. “not yet, but please, Rocky,” your tone shifts into one of tensity. “enlighten me.”

He gulped, now forcing himself to look straight at you. “well— you see— " he gave a forced chuckle, one where his shoulders moved a bit with and he winced in pain. " there was...this old drunkard! and-"

“Rocky.” You spoke, a ramble of rhymes and fake stories cut off from him. “…I’m not an idiot.” You frowned. Your heart started feeling heavy and your hands kept fidgeting with your clothes. You werent sure how you could describe what you’re feeling right at the moment, but you knew it was one pent up the entire night and now close to bursting.“ I may have not believed the rumors, but that was because I trusted you.”

“Please, just tell me the truth this time?” He went silent, and that was all you needed to realize that such a thing won't be happening anytime soon. With the stress of the situation now feeling like they’re invading your lungs, you take another breath and look at him with bleary eyes, a pained look on your face and body frustrated with itself for no good reason. “at least…” you take a deep breath. “ be more careful in your next— well, whatever it is you did to end up like this.”

“oh please-“ he huffed, now starting to act a bit more like the Rocky you knew, one where all casualties and warnings are ignored by him. “ this is but a mundane and normal routine for an artist such as myself.”

Usually, you wouldn’t mind his casual behavior towards a serious situation, you would’ve even appreciated it at times, since he always eased your mood with it. But, in such a circumstance, you couldn’t help but look at him with eyes of distraught. “you could’ve died.” Your tone was shaky, and your eyes were welling up with tears. A few started to slip down as you continued. “Rocky if you were just an inch higher- if Ivy brought you just a second later- I-…” you gave out a shaky sigh. “ you would’ve been dead.”

At the sight of your teary and panic induced face, something he’s never seen from you, a pang of guilt seem to hit him. He moved slowly, though his words were laced with shock and were frantic. “hey now, there’s no need for tears!” with his good shoulder, he tried to reach out for your face and wipe some of them away. “ I’m fine now- aren't I? “ he tried to reassure. “ your skills are quite commendable, much better than how Dr.Quackenbush would handle it.”

While still bawling your eyes out, you rose a brow. “w-which is?...”

“Well, last I heard, using lots of chloral hydrate.”

“y-you’re joking…right?” you sniffled, and to that, Rocky gave a sheepish smile. my god, how is he still alive? even though the words of comfort weren't the best, they eased your concerns at least for a little bit. enough to grab his palm that laid on your face, wiping the rest of your tears away yourself, and holding his hand in yours.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, looking away. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He added, still not meeting your gaze out of guilt. With a few deep breaths, you try to calm yourself down. The stress of the moment now finally leaving your system.

“how about…” you breathed in and gave him a concerned smile. “from now on, you just get patched up by me?” you sniffled, trying to fix up your shaky voice, which was now toned to embarrassment from the small breakdown you had. “ I wouldn’t mind your company. And it’ll lessen my worry for you, too.”

He went silent for a moment, seeming a bit bashful about this entire thing, especially since he was still in his clothes which are covered with lines of dirt, and his lucky tie isn't around his neck at the moment, and not to mention, his fur was covered with all sorts of dirt and blood, with a tired body comes a tired cat, and he for one, is slowly feeling the exhaustion seeping through him. If he were healthy, he’d have the energy to grin and gawk at the pretty girl who just told him the most romantic line he’s ever received (he’s ignoring the fact that this is in fact, the only one he ever received as well.) if he were more conscious about what he was saying, he’d flirt back a bit in his own way, maybe rhyme a few words and then go back to sleep. But that clearly isn't the case, and the Rocky Rickaby before you is slowly taking his mask off. “…why though?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you worry about me?” he said in a more clear tone, one seeped with confusion and, if you listened just a bit harder, concern. “ I’m…not really worth worrying about.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why would you say that?”

He looked at you speechlessly for a few moments, then stared at his hand that was clasped in yours. His hand shifted a bit, yet hesitated to move away further, as if it was contemplating on what to do. but soon after, he took it away and he already missed its warmth. “I’m…not the best person.”

“and…you say that because?...”

He leans his head on his shoulder. “I’ve been told that a lot.”

“Oh…” you felt sympathy for him, his eyes seemed so sunken down, and his head seemed to be up somewhere else. Damn, have you made him remember some unpleasant memories? With a glance to your hands and a gear shifitng in your head, you speak once more. “I…I worry about you because I care for you. and I care for you because you you’re my friend.”

Rocky, in his dosy state, gave a joyful grin. “you think of me as a friend?”

“I mean…we are friends…right?” you felt a bit of fear well up, now wondering if your freindship was moslty one –sided and that you were just being a fool.

“I do enjoy our conversations a lot.” He smiled, eyes focused on the small light source on the ceiling. “I never thought you’d consider me a friend, though. Let alone an aqquiantace.”

“Why do you think I go to the café everyday?” you huffed. “It’s to see you, silly.”

“Giving the good old flriting a try, huh?” he looked away, an annoyed tone not matching his amused and bashful face.

“I’m not flirting, I’m merely telling the truth.” You countered back, now feeling a bit more at ease. “ I enjoy your company.”

“Consider me flattered,” he speaks, and soon, a yawn escapes him. he looks back at you once more. And as the exhasution of the entire day and the sleepiness seeps in him, he is left with a jumble of thoughts that he, if more aware of his surrondings, wouldn’t have speaked up about. “But…” he blinks a few times slowly, now trying to lay back down on the sofa rather than lean. “You’re life is normal, and mine isn’t.” He takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing on the sofa. “If you mix in with mine, you’ll…”

“I’ll what?”

“…you’ll probably hate me.” he mumbles, now head sinking deeper into the small pillow. “I don’t want that to happen.”

You hold his hand once more, gazing at him softly as you sighed. “And it won’t. I promise.”

He stirs a bit, now half-asleep. And as he falls into a deep sleep, one which he looked bothered in, he mumbles out one single sentence, one that begun the change in your relationship that you never could’ve expected. Because for once, Rocky Rickaby cares for someone so deeply, that he’s willing to stay away from them for their own good. To the point where you never see him anymore, and Ivy and Freckle never mention him around you, as if he was a mere figment of your imagination. Rocky Rickaby wants you to lead a normal good life, and as thanks for the help, he’ll do exactly that for you. for if you’re shedding tears on a simple injury on a shoulder, than you’re not capable to withstand the unlucky streak he has in life, and he doesn’t blame you at all.

“ me too.”

#lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #rocky rickaby x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #rocky x reader

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fantomette22 · 2 years ago

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Hello!

Do you have any tips to help other story writers for making Bloodborne stories?

Oh hello there ! ^^

Well I'm not sure I'm the best person placed for this O_O' it's only been a few months since I began to write stories (& bloodborne stories) so I still have a lot to learn...

But I know a lot of things about Bloodborne so I can try to help x) what's sure is that's there's no good or wrong way to write bloodborne stories I believe.

First I think it depends the types of stories you want to write really. Is it a little one shot ? (About a character ? A particular events ? a pairing ?) or is it a bigger multi chapter fic/story that describe a long period of events ?

I mean personally I try to respect the lore and everything we can learn in the source materials and put as much little references as possible (but it's a lot it depends, if you focus on a specific character at one certain point in time, it's important to consider a bit what happened before and perhaps after? (foreshadowing) and all but a lot of things can be ignore/not focused on too much. (If it's like a small story about Gascoigne's backstory for exemple I don't think it's pertinent referencing the fishing hamlet for ex)

If you wrote about the old hunters/ the healing church foundation and all it's good to be on point with the lore, if it's later in the timeline with only Gascoigne, Eileen, Henryk, Djura and all it's still good to know about it/reference it but not useful to talk about what happened to much. Likewise if it's a story happening with the hunter/main character in the "present". (Also make a timeline if it's retracing the entire storyline of bloodborne lore. I had a hard time making one but it's super useful)

A lot of points are still up to interpretations in Bloodborne (the exact timeline, the characterizations of some characters, the types of relationships some had between them...) I think the best advice I can give here is to do like you feel/imagined/interpret the world. I love reading unique takes ! You can inspired yourself with ideas from others of course but I think just looking at your first thoughts about the game

As for writing inspiration I guess doing researches about the XIX/19th century/victorian era (1800s) is really useful too + Lovecraft/fantastic stories but it depend the type of stories and tone you you want to write too. For interiors description, how people used to live, talk maybe? medical procedures... it can be pretty useful but also you need to be careful that Bloodborne universe is not totally equal to our 19th century. For ex I don't think people have 10 siblings/children, women have more prominent/important & mixed role in society and I don't think 10years old worked in manufactures...(but hey a really realistic Bloodborne based stories / a really super fantastic-lovecratian story could be quite interesting too).

You don't have to explain everything too/it's ok if there's some missing points. (Because 1 : the game never explain everything. 2: it's super hard coming up with an explanation for everything as well.)

And to conclude I would say the best source materials for ideas/inspiration is the game itself. The ambience it have, what you feel & what comes to your mind when playing the game.

Hope it helps !👍 thank you for asking too I dunno what i did. Do I really wrote that well ?? ^^'

#bloodborne #I need help writing stories as well ;-;#bloodborne fanfiction #sorry it was a bit long maybe... it's my preferences too so... really having unique interpretations #and respecting the source materials are the main thing I believe #let the ambience of the game be your main reference !#but really do what you want/like #my asks

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