thinking about medplay <3
loving someone so much you just …collect. Drug them, make them sleepy and pliant and bottle up various bodily fluids…
blood, sweat, tears, liquor, spinal fluid…
The only sound you’ll hear in the quiet room would be a needle sinking in unmarred flesh, a small rush of blood, a sickening crunch of thick plates of pure bone get rearranged and prodded by a needle.
Make the anesthesia wear off for just a moment; gently assure them, kiss their forehead gently as gloved hands rubbed their arms. Feeling their complete trust as they lean into you, murmur gentle praises groggily as you nuzzle into their neck. The second dosage would hit, leaving them unconscious on the sterile table at your mercy alone.
The memories stashed away in pretty, unassuming little bottles containing your love’s fluids neatly stacked on a shelf next to thick medical text books.
Maybe keeping chunks of flesh and skin from your favorite areas of their body.
Gently slicing through the soft layers of skin, muscle and fat with a new scalpel like butter while praising an unconscious lover about how well they’ve been treating their body. Separating pure sinew from a soft layer of the fat you love so much on their thigh; Cutting into a spot you trace with your tongue at night on their stomach, cutting the soft skin off just for you. You’ve gotten greedy.
Then bandaging the damaged flesh gently, applying pressure, pressing gauze on the wound you inflicted on their holy flesh.
Them waking up after, thoroughly loved. Cleaned, pleasantly numb, bandaged, with a happily sleeping figure resting on their chest. Maybe they know, and they let you. Maybe they’re painstakingly naive.
Maybe even a: “Just can’t keep those pretty hands to yourself, hm?” As they stroke your hair and hold the hand that damaged their own body just hours ago. Gently, as if holding something fragile. Akin to the way you held the scalpel as you dragged it across their skin.