Pumpkinpatchharvest

Echinacea cordis, watercolor and colored pencil, animated with Photoshop and after effects!

Since some of us have noticed a lack of cardiophilia centered/heartbeat related prompts on this site, I've come up with a short, non-exhaustive list to boost your writing!

Text version under the cut:

Tentacle ice cream

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒍𝒚.

However, it turns out that the government was lying, and that is a way to treat whunpee’s “contamination” and they kept them ill for study, ruthlessly cutting them open and performing test after test. The group of people start a resistance to this, and eventually rescue whumpee.

After being broken out of the lab, whumpee is taken to a quickly thrown together isolation room. The walls are covered with thick plastic sheeting as is the floor. There’s an old hospital table at the center in it, and surrounded by all sorts of secondhand medical equipment. The caretakers, a group of renegade doctors and nurses and scientist, are all garbed up, in Tyvex suits and layers of gloves and respirators.

Even though they’re trying to help whumpee, they’re scared out of their mind. As far as they can tell, they’ve been kidnapped by a group of mad scientists who are going to perform more and more experiments, just like the last people in those outfits did.

Still, Whumpee can’t figure out why they are being so gentle. Why are their wounds being bandaged instead of cut open again? Why are the linens so soft? What are these “analgesics” they’re being given all the time? Why do the doctors seem unhappy with the pus leaking from their PICC line, or the heat around the tube from their stomach? Why are things being explained to them at all (even if they’re all lies)? And most of all…

Masterlist

CW lab whump, dehumanisation, nonsexual nudity.

Erik wailed mutely, a cloud of bubbles forming in front of his face. He squirmed and flailed, but the chemical solution he was immersed in prevented him from gaining any momentum. It burnt, like fire coursing through his veins, white-hot agony everywhere in his body. Like last time, he suddenly felt his body going limp, lifeless as his unnaturally generated energy left his body through the countless wires and IVs embedded beneath his skin, the whirring of the machinery surrounding him muffled by the thick liquid. His chest rose and fell shakily as the mask covering his face pushed the chemical-filled air in his lungs, unable to do it himself properly.

He had lost all sense of time since he had been immersed in the yellowish liquid. His life was only marked by the regular sessions of energy drawing, which left him feeling as limp as a ragdoll.

The lack of exercise and the frequent draining had taken a toll on his body. Erik could see his muscles atrophy as the days went by, at such a speed that he was certain whatever was injected through the IVs was deteriorating his body. He had never been anything close to bulky, but now he couldn't even recognise himself.

On the other side of the glass, distorted by the chemical solution, there was always someone watching. Whether it was one of the countless people in white scrubs, a technician, or, more rarely, men in dark suits, he was never alone. Usually, he was granted nothing more than a vague glance, which slid over him as if he were just another object, another piece of furniture. But Erik liked that better than when they lingered over him, pointing out parts of his damaged body, without ever addressing him directly. An object, a subject, a number. That was all that was left of him.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat