vivisectedboy

[vivisectedboy]

cws: dead body, starvation

“What did you do?”

“Caretaker’s gone.”

“Gone?”

Whumper paused. In the far corner of the room, a body slumped against the floor.

The tall man crossed the room, boots squeaking against the concrete. He nudged Caretaker’s pale cheek with the rubber tip of his shoe—his face lolled to the other side, lifeless.

Purple and red handprints circled his throat. His skin had a bluish tinge and congealed blood had collected in the corpse’s cheeks. Whumper assumed he’d been killed in the night.

Interesting.

“Gone, huh?” His gaze slid to Whumpee across the room. “More like dead.” 

Whumpee stood stiffly, arms tight at his sides, shoulders curled inward out of shame or exhaustion. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“I take it you killed him?”

Whumpee gave a weak nod, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

“Huh. I didn’t peg you for the type.” Whumper stepped over the corpse carefully, then glanced back. “I thought you two were good friends.”

“I can get his food now, right?”

Whumper studied Whumpee. He looked frenzied—eyes wide open and wild, glassy with adrenaline. He couldn’t breathe right. Couldn’t stand still.

This wasn’t the quiet, obedient captive Whumper had grown used to. Something about him had changed.

“No.” Whumper’s tone dropped. “You don’t get extra food for murdering your friend. That’s not how this works.”

“No, no—that’s not right!”

Whumper stiffened.

“You said there wasn’t enough food to keep us both fed.” Whumpee’s eyes blazed with raw fury. “That’s why you starved us both. But it’s just me now. So you can give me all of it.”

Whumpee’s breakdown felt too loud to be real. He couldn’t tell if he was actually unraveling or putting on a show. 

Whumper tilted his head, keeping his distance. “Whumpee, Whumpee. Man…” He tried not to let the amusement carry in his tone. 

“Are you proud of yourself for this?”

“I don’t care.”

It wasn't true.

“You killed your friend.”

“I know.”

He wished he hadn’t.

“You killed him. Fucking Christ. Probably strangled him in his sleep, too, poor bastard. Tsk. And you don’t have a mark on you, Whumps. It wasn’t a fair fight.” 

Whumpee turned away. He tried not to think about it. The tears spilled anyway, blurring his vision and running hot down his cheeks.

Whumper didn’t seem to notice. He was crouched beside Caretaker’s body again, dragging the back of his fingers across its cold, soft cheeks.

“Fuuuuck. Why’d you do it?”

“…I’m hungry.”

Whumper wiped his hand on his pants. “I mean, I can kinda get why you thought this’d be your way out. Actually-- no.” Whumper let out a dry, bitter laugh. “You’re fucking delirious.”

He stood, turning slowly to face Whumpee.

“Caretaker wasn’t yours to kill, Whumps. This stunt's gonna cost you.”

You wanted to kill us both!” Whumpee yelled, voice raw and desperate, echoing off the walls. “I just saved you half the fucking effort.” 

“You owe me.” he growled.

Those were the exact words Caretaker had implored him to say.

You owe me.

Speak to him in the only language he understands.

Be tough, Caretaker had said. Act like a psychopath. Like a starving animal. The only way to reach Whumper was to match his own brutal, savage cruelty. It was the only language he spoke.

“I don’t owe you shit.”

Whumper’s leg swept out, kicking Whumpee’s ankles from beneath him. His weakened body hit the floor hard.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Tears spilled down his cheeks. He huffed as he staggered to his knees, concrete digging into the skin. He was too weak to fully stand.

“Really, Whumpee? Really?” 

“He was eating my food!”

SMACK.

Whumper’s hand struck him hard across his cheek.

His vision went white.

Whumpee clutched his face and jerked upright too quickly. Spots exploded in his vision.

“You fucked up, bud.”

Whumpee’s head was spinning, he was too weak to hold himself up.

“I’m hungry.”

Nausea wracked Whumpee’s stomach, bubbling acid burned at the back of his throat. He was so hungry that his body was beginning to collapse.

“I just need to eat something… please. I just need to eat something.”

“How long did it take your friend to die?”

Why couldn’t Whumpee have been the one who got sick? 

“Tell me how long it took for him to die. Then you’ll get your food.”

"It took..." Whumpee hesitated, then finally said, “A while.”

"But did he fight back?"

Whumpee’s face went ghost-pale, sweat beading at his brow. He swayed on his knees, spine curling inward.

The world went in and out of focus, dark around the edges. Then it went completely black.

Whumpee’s eyes rolled back, and his body hit hard against the concrete floor.

Whumper stood motionless for a second, staring down at the collapsed mess of limbs on the floor.

“What the fuck?” Whumper said to himself.

A ragged wheeze rasped past Whumpee's lips.

Okay. Not dead.

“Christ.”

Whumper crouched beside him. Still warm. Alive.

Evidently the hunger had finally caught up with him.

Whumper sighed, shaking his head.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a half-smashed packet of peanut butter crackers. He pinched the greasy, crumpled package in his fingers and waved it in front of Whumpee’s nose like smelling salts. The faint warm peanut butter scent teased the air, and Whumpee’s eyelids fluttered awake.

“This is not a treat,” Whumper said flatly. “I’m not rewarding you for this performance.”

He dropped the crackers beside Whumpee’s ear with a crumbly thud.

“But I gotta make sure you’re not gonna try to take a fucking bite out of me—or ol’ buddy boy in the corner.”

The tall man stood, brushing dust from his pants. Whumpee blinked weakly up at him, too drained to move or speak.

"I guess I'll try to feed you more often."

Whumpee didn’t watch as Whumper dragged Caretaker’s body away.

His gaze lingered on the smashed crackers until he heard the door shut. Then, without hesitation, he tore into them.

(more whump)

[vivisectedboy]

probably taking a 3week break ! bunch of stuff happening rn, likely wont have time to post

[vivisectedboy]

in honor of me getting my teeth fucked with tmrw, here's some tooth whump ideas, an underrated masterpiece, coming from someone with some seriously messed up chompers *~*

maybe a pet whumpee having to go in to get their teeth looked at, and being treated more like an animal at the vet than a human being with real concerns about their health

maybe whumper is the dentist!! imagine the horror of a pet going under anesthesia and falling asleep, their last view being of their tormentor..

or maybe whumper has no idea what the hell they're doing, just didn't want to spend money on this pathetic little thing. does the pet know that they're incompetent and likely to fuck something up as they lose consciousness, or were they lied to, trusting whumper only to wake up in horrible pain, the knowledge that something's not right burning deep in their bones.

perhaps a living weapon with a bad habit of biting in battle that is horrible for their teeth. do they feel safe going under the knife with no control compared to usually dominating most situations? probably not.

or maybe the weapon has a bad habit of biting their handlers). are they getting the canines taken out as a warning? maybe one tooth at a time? so many options, maybe even just putting them under anesthesia and slicing the side of their cheek. they wake up tasting blood, realizing something must have happened, desperately searching their mouth for the cause.... and never finding one. how long will that fear linger?

a spy/soldier whumpee being told to "talk. before you can't." during an interrogation gone torture session. how many tools do they need to see, teeth do they need to lose before they crack?

even recovered whumpees of all flavors would likely have issues at a dentist. send a whumpee with medical trauma to get wisdom teeth removed or cavities filled. give the hypochondriac an infection under a flap of gum tissue that oozes liquid when they swallow too hard. put a whumpee who was forced onto drugs or restrained on anesthesia, mental restraints. watch the chaos ensue.

sincerely, someone who has had two (about to be three) oral surgeries, braces on at ten, off at twelve and back on since 14, and almost always throws up after anesthesia, no matter how much anti-nausea medication they're pumped with <3

[vivisectedboy]

Fear is the source of suffering

Fear tropes that I love, war and captivity style

Content: noncon touch, restraints, death threat

The sense of self-preservation as a sword-point is pressed into victim's inner thigh (big artery there) and victim stills under the threat

Restrained positions that bare their chest and groin to whatever captor wants to do to them

The moment when victim stops struggling against the bonds, heart sinking, panting, exposed and helpless

Blindfolded victim hyperventilating when they hear footsteps approaching, and captor simply stays quiet, giving victim no clue what is about to happen

The uptick of breath as a hand traces up a restrained victim's thigh toward their crotch

Wide-eyed stare locked onto captor, who is advancing on them with a knife

Sudden violence. Slammed down onto the table by the back of their neck when a second ago they were just talking.

[vivisectedboy]

(Relax Into) Stasis 2014.

Ink and watercolor.

[vivisectedboy]

Knife Collection

[vivisectedboy]

Blood dripping from a character's fingers which clearly originates from an injury far higher up their arm or shoulder but has run all the way down as their arm dangles loosely, their hand wetly stained with blood but uninjured beneath.

[vivisectedboy]

giggling at the idea of nick and hayko watching a horror/slasher film together and hayko having to strategically ignore nick staring at him during scenes of people being brutally tortured

[vivisectedboy]

The whumpee goes to the whumper willingly and bears their throat.

The whumper wraps their fingers around it.

It's almost delicate. It's almost tender.

It's almost worth the pressure that cuts off their air.

And they don't fight. Or at least, they try not to, for as long as their body will let them.

If the whumper wants to hurt them, the whumper has to touch them.

And god, it's been so long since anyone touched them.

[vivisectedboy]

woof

[vivisectedboy]

whump community is this u

[vivisectedboy]

AUGUSTOFWHUMP ’25

A whump event set in August, run by @starryybrained!

Write-up of prompts & rules under the cut!

AUGUSTOFWHUMP PROMPTS:

Day 1: brainwashing / heavy / overheating

Day 2: sold off / bleeding heart / bargaining

Day 3: greed / on display / black and blue

Day 4: blurred vision / hallucinogen / haunted

Day 5: shadow / rules / ransom

Day 6: coughing fit / bone saw / seeing red

Day 7: flashback / faint / noxious

Day 8: defiance / distrust / numb

Day 9: simple / disgust / gutting

Day 10: overthinking / meat / memory loss

Day 11: nausea / squeeze / vertigo

Day 12: long day / migraine / mind control

Day 13: countdown / marked / shame

Day 14: lacerations / limping / intubation

Day 15: religious trauma / dissociation / helpless

Day 16: body swap / disorientation / dissection

Day 17: panting / panic / pet names

Day 18: zip ties / taut / torn muscle

Day 19: silenced / stalking / regret

Day 20: car crash / burns / bloody nose

Day 21: ooze / withdrawal / open wound

Day 22: pistol / body slammed / blinded

Day 23: weep / intimacy / immobile

Day 24: sacrifice / unresponsive / recovery

Day 25: force fed / struggle / found

Day 26: unworthy / endless / execution

Day 27: filmed / lies / left behind

Day 28: long gone / gashes / can’t breathe

Day 29: slaughter / undone / love

Day 30: coward / forget / death wish

Day 31: free day (or, “fuck it we ball” day)

ALT PROMPTS:

Afterlife

Self-destructive habits

Food poisoning

Hatred

Treated as an object

Broken bone

Mindfuck

Amputation

Used as bait

Relapse

Apocalypse

GUIDELINES:

Prompts should ideally be responded to in the form of whump

Creators can make any type of media they want (Yes, this includes any kind of media, no matter how niche. As long as it’s creative, it’s allowed)

You can do as few or as many prompts as you like

You can complete these prompts in tandem with any other event or other prompts (such as in combination with Bad Things Happen Bingo, AU-gust, etc.)

DO NOT use ai. I can’t be entirely sure what is or isn’t, but I trust you to at least put some type of effort in your creations. These events are no fun otherwise!

Tag & trigger warn your content accordingly

Yes, NSFW is allowed (and this year you CAN tag me in it! Aka I’m eighteen now baybeee)

Tag your works as #augustofwhump and/or #augustofwhump2025. (No spaces please! From now on I’ll only be reblogging what I find in these specific tags for my convenience.) In addition to that, you can also tag this account — @augustofwhump. I’ll try to reblog whatever I can!

Extra info and clarifications here

AO3 collection coming to an AO3 near you in the summer of 2025! (Check og post for link update)

[vivisectedboy]

I need more deaf or hard of hearing characters!

tw: ableism

a whumpee that cant read lips!

whumpee that's in the process of learning how to lip read and learning a lot of angry and insulting words before anything else

a whumper that is hoh and enjoys whumpee's screams bc it's one of the few things that's loud enough for them to hear

a whumpee with cochlear implants and being allowed to have them back for good behavior

a whumper that's deaf but can clearly communicate to whumpee what they want through torture

a whumpee that's being interrogated for information and their hearing aids die mid sentence

when whumpee gets kidnapped and panics bc what are the chances that whumper knows sign language?? And then when whumpee signs something whumper understands

but plot twist! They speak different kinds of sign language!!!

maybe they're similar enough for them to get basic points across (like how asl is similar to lsf (French sign language))

deaf whumpee that can talk but not hear so whumper doesn't believe that they're deaf

a deaf whumper that can talk but accidentally shouts most of the time because they don't know how loud the room is and don't know what volume is appropriate so better safe than sorry

deaf and hoh characters that their disability has nothing to do with the plot and they're there bc deaf people just exist without plot reasons and should have more representation

[vivisectedboy]

Experiment

CW: medical whump; live, unmedicated surgery/vivisection (cut to black); dread and anticipation; noncon touch; implied captivity; physical restraint; disassociation; dehumanization/objectification

The lights flicker. Sterile and unforgiving, the room glares at him, burns through him.

There is nothing in the air other than the sound of his labored breathing, mingled with the faint buzz of lab equipment, and the jostling and clanking of surgical tools as they’re picked up from the counter.

He thinks Stanford is leaning over his array of instruments right now, deciding what to do to him next, but he can’t make out any detail in the shapes above him through the blur of his vision. He tries to keep his eyes shut anyways.

The voice above him is low, gravelly… commanding. Entirely clinical and matter-of-fact-- and much closer than he thought.

“Demon.”

Will’s breath hitches.

A beat passes. He tries, but he can’t find his voice.

“I asked you a question.”

Again, Will parts his lips to speak. His whole body trembles. He wills his mouth to voice the words— yes, sir— but it falls out of his mouth instead as nothing but a broken, feeble squeak.

Something slams on the table next to him— Will’s entire body tenses and shakes. He screws his eyes shut so tight he sees stars.

Stanford stops talking to him. That privilege is quickly lost to disobedience. People can speak, objects cannot. He made his choice.

He hears pages turn. Hears a book get tossed onto the counter. The clack of footsteps nears him, then stops.

Fabric rustles. He’s rolling up his long white sleeves.

Will doesn’t know if being treated like a cadaver is better or worse than how the twins treat him. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now. Don’t think anything right now. Just- blank. White nothingness, for miles and miles…

Stanford’s hand— ice cold— reaches for Will’s stomach and splays over his bare, ghostly skin. He stifles a sound in his throat. The touch alone fills him with dark, oily, bottomless dread. He waits.

The hand prods him. Liver, gall bladder, small intestine. He isn’t gentle. Nevermind the mottled patchwork of yellow-blue bruises he’s adding pressure to. The hand settles on his hipbone.

Will attempts to reign in some semblance of control over his broken breathing. He can’t cry here. He sucks in one big, deep, trembling breath, as quietly as he can. The movement jostles his head, sending a spark of new pain from the thick restraint holding his neck down to the table all the way down his back and shoulders. He swallows it down.

There’s a soft, metal clank nearby.

He feels the overwhelming punch of nausea bloom in his abdomen before he even registers the cold feeling of metal. It traces a slow line across his flank. His stomach flips more than once. He purses his lips and grates his teeth. His breath comes in frantic, short spasms and he forces himself to breathe them through his nose.

Be quiet. Empty room. White nothingness. Nothingness. I am nowhere. I-

His raw, shrill cry resounds off every wall.

The Rift Between Rivers Masterlist

[vivisectedboy]

Prompt: two whumpers, one of them holding whumpee hostage, the other very excited to also participate in breaking them

cw for. uhh pet whump, captivity, degradation, female and male whumpers with nonbinary whumpee, drugging

"Look at that expression. Pure fucking terror." he smiles, sickeningly proud.

"They love it though, don't they?" she asks.

"Yeah, don't you, Pet?"

Whumpee stares at the ground, jaw slacked. Tied to a chair, restrained enough keep them from moving, only allowing their body to shake uncontrollably from the adrenaline pumping through their veins.

"I asked you a question. Didn't you fucking hear me?" he snaps, grabbing Whumpee by the back of his neck.

"Y-yeah." they reply in fear, their mind cearly too jumbled to make sense of what is happening.

"Yeah what, bitch?"

"Yeah- I- I don't know-"

"God. Do they even know where they are?" she keeps running her hand through Whumpee's sweat-drenched hair.

"I doubt." he chuckles as he lights a cigarette, "I had to keep this one drugged up to stop it from screaming all the god damn time."

"Aww. That's adorable." she tightens her grip on Whumpee's hair, forcing them to meet her gaze. "What did you give them? Looks fucked up."

Whumpee is practically gasping for air, each breath making a grating noise down their throat, pupils blown wide and staring into the distance. As she lets go of their hair, their head limply falls back down.

"Don't remember. It keeps the bitch obedient though. Look at this shit." he taps their cheek and lightly tilts their head upwards. After a second of confusion they open their mouth, as if previously programmed. He flicks the ash off his cigarette onto his tongue.

She watches with enjoyment as he forcibly closes Whumpee's mouth and gives them a few reassuring pats. "That's horrible. You really did train them well!"

"I barely had to do anything. This fucker is so terrified, it would do anything."

"Anything?"

"Yeah. Try it."

[vivisectedboy]

[vivisectedboy]

*raises hand* Medical whump community, can I give my whumpee a dose of Halcion/Triazolam to make them drowsy and weak and keep them from escaping as I trap them somewhere