The Feelings Factory

god yeah there's a lot going on here, huh

the way that the rape is framed as an act of devotion, and act of service. the way confusion mixes with fear, and how whumpee wonders if they did something to cause this. did they make it seem like they wanted it?

they were getting close, sure. whumper was starting to be one of their better friends, someone they'd started to trust, to be vulnerable with, to share affection with. but whumpee hadn't- had they?

"i-" whumpee tries, and their voice catches in their dry throat.

whumper is on top of them. their hands are hot and gentle and relentless. whumpee is trembling.

(Depending on who whumpee is talking to, the responses to this confession can vary.)

“Oh whumpee, I am so, so sorry.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Shh, it's okay now. You don't have to pretend anymore. You're safe.”

“I understand. It hurt me, too.”

“You should know better than to keep secrets from me, whumpee. Next time, you tell me- or else.”

“This is what was weighing on you? Poor, foolish whumpee. You weren't tricking me. I knew you hated it. I just did it anyway.”

oh that's very good. i love that.

especially if the tone is the same. it's still not overtly physically violent. it's gentle. it's soft. it's horrific. whumper is begging like they're a lovestruck lead in a drama movie adapted from a nicholas sparkes novel. professing their love. it's wrought, it's intense. whumper sounds like they're baring their raw heart and every time whumpee tries to say no, tries to get out of it, tries to make it stop, whumper sounds dangerously close to crying.

"i need you," whumper all-but-whimpers into whumpee's throat. "i need you to be mine. i need to hear you say it, i need to believe it. please. i need you. i love you.

whumpee's skin is crawling. they can barely breathe. they don't feel like their body belongs to them. the thought almost makes them laugh. it feels disturbingly literal.

"i'm yours," they choke out.

whumper's mouth is over theirs - frantic, hot kisses that taste like salt. whumpee can't tell which of them is crying.

whumpee's back presses into the walls. whumper is so close in front of them, and it feels like there's no room for them to breathe. all of the air has been sucked away. it's like the only thing that exists anymore is whumper.

whumper slides the sharp fabric shears up the front of their shirt. the metal is cold against their skin and they flinch. the air makes their skin prickle. the marks of the sex they'd had the night before - good, consensual, wanted sex - are exposed. whumper's breathing gets hard and heavy. their hand smacks into the wall beside whumpee's head, and whumpee jolts, choking on a sharp, shocked sound.

they're offered the choice - i'll cut those out of you, or i'll cover them with my own.

it's hardly a choice at all. still, though, as whumper's mouth closes over the marks that they had received in such a similar but impossibly different way not all that long ago. they try to think about the friend that they had fallen into bed with, giggling and moaning, the night before, anything to get away from what's happening.

the guilt of trying to think about their friend in such an awful moment, though, feels like it's eating whumpee alive. they can't think about that. it's wrong to think about that. dirty. awful. like they're bringing that person, that safe person who they care about, into this awful hell.

whumpee was raped by whumper as a kid. and they got away somehow. but... somehow, whumper finds them and their friends again.

"it's been so long. you've grown up! what were you, ten when i last saw you?"

at first, the comments seem innocent. the hugs, the one-sided closeness, whumpee's barely concealed horror.

then, their friends see whumper kiss whumpee. and whumpee doesn't fight back, going almost limp, not making a sound as whumper's hands hold them tight.

and oh. oh. oh.

i really do have a soft spot for csa in a character's background, honestly, i'll be so for real. nothing will immediately make me attach to a character like having them have experienced csa.

and i love, love, love a reveal. whumpee's friends piecing things together.

the history that whumper and whumpee have. how young whumpee was when they last knew each other. the strange way that whumpee acted when they first turned up - and that hadn't seemed so strange at first, really. whumpee gets strange sometimes. they get distant and jumpy. a little scared. so they kick themselves for it later - the way that they don't even really pay much attention to whumpee's reactions at first.

and then they see the kissing. they weren't supposed to see it. it was in a quiet corner of the building, out of the way. no one was supposed to see it. and whumper is pressing whumpee back into the wall, whumpee limp and unresponsive and trembling all over. they don't want this. they aren't fighting.

you've grown up! what were you, ten when i last saw you?

Whumpee who doesn't know what to say because the way that the question was phrased makes them feel like such a victim. "did whumper rape you?" would have been fine because it's something whumper did, not something that happened to whumpee. But whumpee could not be a person that was raped. They just couldn't be. They're reaching into their mind for some way to create their own consent after the fact just to not have been a rape victim, to not be that vulnerable,

Caretaker who takes the silence and the stricken look on whumpee's face as answer enough.

"i'm sorry," caretaker says, stricken and horrified. they know what the look on whumpee's face means, the way the answer is in the silence of the answer they couldn't give. "fuck, i shouldn't have just said it like that, i'm sorry. i just- i couldn't- i'm sorry."

whumpee hunches over, heaving in breath after strangled breath. caretaker moves to comfort them and whumpee jerks away, shaking their head.

(and caretaker stops. caretaker immediately stops. and whumpee has to fight hard not to shatter at that - that all it took was just moving away. they didn't even have to tell caretaker not to touch them. they didn't have to say don't or stop. caretaker saw that they didn't want to be touched and then didn't touch them. fuck.)

"i don't- i didn't want to."

"i know, i-"

and im lowkey obsessed with that idea.

After being SA'd, Whumpee feels completely sick with themself. They feel like they somehow violated Caretaker by picturing them when they were being raped.

When they next see Caretaker, they end up completely panicking. Reimagining being in that position they were in with Whumper but with it being Caretaker instead. They don't even know how to explain to Caretaker what's wrong because they think they're a horrible person for 'violating' Caretaker by picturing them like that.

ya know ??? like im imagining caretaker trying to comfort them afterwards and ahhhhh

this is the sort of thing i'm crazy about, right, like. feeling like they've violated caretaker somehow by thinking about them, or telling them something. especially if they thought about caretaker during the assault.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. fuck, i'm sorry, i- sorry. god."

caretaker has genuinely no idea what whumpee is apologizing for. they're confused and alarmed and deeply, deeply worried. whumpee had broken down and confessed that whumper had raped them, but that doesn't seem like it, somehow. they clearly feel guilty and responsible for something, but it feels different than a generalized sort of 'this was my fault' reaction to what's happened.

it's like whumpee feels guilty for something related to caretaker somehow.

"it's okay that you told me about this," caretaker says. "that's fucking awful, and i'm glad that i know, so that i can help. i mean, if i can help. i don't know. i want to help."

whumpee just... just sobs.

- obsessively making their bed over and over

- getting up at the same time of day even though they don't know what time it is, because their body does somehow

- similarly, obsessing over the time and date

- attempting to keep with the same routine they had when free, even if doing most of it is impossible (they might just pretend to in order to make themselves feel better)

- memorizing guard/captor routines, faces, names, schedules, building layouts in order to have a chance of getting revenge once out

- eating the food they’re given in a specific order, in a specific way

- collecting and hiding random objects (nails, paperclips, pebbles, sticks, etc) “just in case”

- if they’re let outside, doing the same “circuit” around the area every time, like they’re doing a patrol

- getting distressed when things were promised but don’t happen when/how they were supposed to (meals, lights turning off/on, scheduled interviews interrogations, shower, etc)

- going over training exercises and routines to keep themselves occupied, even if only in their head so as not to waste strength

- obsessing over everything that led up to their capture, imagining all the ways they could (or couldn’t) have prevented it

whumper looks confused, then shakes their head and scoffs. “yeah, whatever.”

at first whumpee is just stung. they’d thought whumper would take being turned down better than that. and then there are bigger problems - problems like whumper’s hands on their body, crowding them. forcing them onto a couch or a desk or a bed, hands shoving up their shirt, down their pants.

“hey, i said no. hey!”

“no,” whumper snaps back at them, gripping them tighter for a second, as if punishing them for their rejection. “you don’t get to- come on, you know we already fucked. it’s not a big deal, stop acting so weird about this.”

“yeah, but i don’t want to this t-“

And Whumper reassuring them “don’t worry, we won’t get caught.”

there are people nearby, and they really could hear. if whumpee screams, they'll hear. if this escalates, if whumper gets whumpee's clothes off and actually rapes them, they might hear anyway. whumpee had hoped that might put whumper off, it might wake them up to what they're doing, to the fact that they're about to rape someone.

it doesn't matter to whumper at all. they murmur into whumpee's ear, their breath hot and awful against whumpee's skin, and it's like they think this is something they and whumpee are doing together. like they're here, so close to where the party is continuing downstairs, about to engage in a clandestine hookup.

"i don't," whumpee tries, "i can't- i don't want this. please stop. please stop."

"it's okay," whumper soothes. whumper pushes them onto the bed, gently but firmly, catching and pinning them when they try to scramble away. "we won't get caught. i promise. this is gonna be good, just relax, okay? god, i've been waiting so long for this."

whumpee stares at the ceiling. tears start to drip down their face and their chest shudders in terrified breaths. whumper isn't stopping. whumper won't stop. if they screamed, people would hear. they would.

Whumper who isn't fazed about the event. maybe because they have someone kind of power or just insane. And Whumpee just doesn't know what to focus on. Whumper who just slipped their hand under Whumpee's shirt or the tornado that is fastly approaching.

AHHHHH this is so damn diabolical my god.....Whumpee should be focused on just surviving the disaster and all of a sudden they also have Whumper all up on them?!

they never cried. it reached a point where whumpee earnestly wanted to cry. they tried to cry. anything to make whumper ease up, stop trying to make the assaults as painful as possible. it just won't happen. they just can't.

whumper's words haunt them. were they even traumatized? do they feel anything? how could someone be raped and not even react? no one would ever believe they didn't want it. it was brutally painful. whumper was rough, was violent, and they didn't even cry. they must have liked it.

it's over now. they've been to hospital to be checked out and treated. they still feel utterly numb.

their closest friend arrives in a frantic rush, having heard about what happened. they have a key to whumpee's apartment and whumpee texted to tell them what happened. it was a shitty, awful text, but they had to tell their friend what happened. and so now their friend knows, and they've come over, and the door opens, and they're just... standing there, looking at each other in whumpee's living room.

Whumper running their fingers along Whumpee's chest, cupping their ribs and gently squeezing them after taking their shirt off.

Whumper slipping off Whumpee's pants/skirt and caressing their legs, pressing soft kisses to their bruised knees.

Whumper kneeling to take Whumpee's shoes/socks off and kissing, biting, or licking their ankles.