Oximaroon

whumpee who’s just.. blank after. staring off, quiet like the dead.

they don’t only not speak unless spoken to, they don’t speak unless they’re asked a question. They could be having a conversation, and even then their answers are barebones and vague enough to not get them hurt. and as soon as caretaker says something that’s not a direct question, whumpee doesn’t answer.

they sit there in the back of the room silent. caretaker forgets they’re there sometimes. maybe they start panicking if their nose is clogged or their breathing is audible for some reason, because they can’t stop making noise.

their eyes are dull. they’re exhausted, nearly always disassociated or derealized, not focusing on their body or the world around them because they expect the people around them to pay as much attention to them as they would an object.

they don’t understand when people talk to them. they don’t react unless someone says their name like an order.

the way they talk is always vague enough that it could agree with whatever the person who’s talking to them says. they are hesitant to take any real stance. maybe they seen confused when someone asks them what they want.

I can’t stop thinking about how Ron looks like such a submissive omega next to Marlon that height difference is insane.

And just the way they’re acting, Ron letting Marlon dress him up and stuff

Marlon calling Ron good boy and ordering him around

Whumpee had a tendency to grow attached to inanimate objects while in captivity. They were also quite sensitive to noise. So, Whumper quite enjoyed giving them balloons to keep them company. They’d even draw a face on them, and give them names and personalities… Only for Whumper to pop them in their arms a few days later. Whumpee would jump and pout with tears in their eyes. To them it always felt like a friend was just killed.

Whumpee develops different personas and coping mechanisms for each one, explaining it to themselves as letting part of them rest while another part plays a role (and having to work feels easy after having been put through pain, having “consensual” sex means they get “looked after” and that can feel nice, but being humiliated is almost cathartic after having to pretend they wanted it, and torture at least doesn't require their collaboration, or even feels dignified compared to the rest- every one thing is a break from the others). They fall into a routine where they know how to manage each whumper, and end up acting very differently depending on who's in the room with them.

They're so used to Whumper actually hurting them that when they start stomping around the room, screaming, picking up various torture implements and clanging them together, cracking whips, belts, riding crops, just inches from Whumpee- they yelp every time, flinch at every sound, cry at every movement.

Everything Whumper could've asked for from their beautifully conditioned Whumpee.

When Whumpee finally starts to catch on, Whumper gets a little more creative; gently sliding a knife across their skin, their neck. Not enough to cut, but enough to terrify. Whispering, "If you flinch again, just another inch to the left, I'll slit your neck right open."

"P-Please- I don't know what I did, I-"

Whumpee only knows their name when Caretaker reads it to them off some paperwork because no one talked to them or called them by an actual name.

Whumpee not knowing how old they are, or when their birthday is, again unless someone tells them from their paperwork.

Not listening when people are talking to them because they’re not used to it, they’re just listening for an order or being yelled at.

Not saying anything no matter how uncomfortable they are or how much pain they are in because no one’s ever cared.

Whumpee constantly spaced out, barely conscious, between their physical health being so poor and their trauma erasing their sense of self, they’re like a computer with a screensaver. Just waiting for some to use them.