"You're going to give me exactly what I want, Whumpee. And I want to know all of Organization's plans." Whumper said as they loomed over Whumpee whom they had bound tightly to the chair.
Whumpee smirked, looking as nonchalant as possible while roped to a folding chair. "Well we both know I'm not going to do that."
"You're going to tell me! Or else!" Whumper said through gritted teeth, their eyes narrowed.
"Or else what? You're going to spend more time with me? That's all you've got, Whumper."
"You'll be sorry," Whumper warned.
Whumpee rolled their eyes. "Give me a break. There's nothing you can do that will make me talk."
Without warning, Whumper backhanded Whumpee hard across the face. Whumpee's head rocked to the side with the force. Fortunately, the chair stayed in place as Whumper had bolted it to the floor hours before. They hadn't wanted Whumpee trying to escape.
Whumpee pouted. "That was uncalled for, Whumper."
Whumper raised a clenched fist. "TELL ME!"
"Make me," Whumpee's eyes glinted with defiance. "There is nothing you can do, Whumper. I will never, ever tell you."
I know we like to see those feisty little boys crumble to the ground, utterly broken!
But, Let me pose you: A Whumper who likes the defiance. One who enjoys the sassy comments, rude remarks and sarcastic lines. Whumper who is amused by seeing Whumpee think they have some kind of power in the situation and they let them float in it, not really punishing them. And I hear you. That doesn’t really sound whumpy but now imagine that whumper snapping at Whumpee, who was just one tiny itty bitty bit above a nonexistent line.
Maybe they slap them hard across the face for a comment. The usual grin replaced by a frown and harsh narrow eyes. Or maybe they start yelling at Whumpee, the amused tone making room for a cold and not at all smug voice. Or Whumper doesn’t need to do anything, the dropped face being enough for Whumpee to shut up and know that they have crossed a line.
And now Imagine Whumpee, completely thrown back by the sudden change of emotions. They can do nothing but stare up at Whumper, all the defiance and sass erased from their eyes while they try to figure out what just happened. Where was that line? Was it just for fun or did they actually go to far? Who knows! Definitely not them. :)
And then Whumper’s smile returns again. But it isn’t the same! It’s a lot darker and creepier than what they usually wear. It is absolutely unnerving and terrifying for Whumpee.
So yeah, defiant Whumpee….
Please let me know where I can find something like this, thanks
The sting of a smack, from palm to cheek. The sting of abuse, of someone who is meant to care for you bringing harm.
This is a scene from year 2 in WBB where Kaerr and their father get into an argument. It's maybe the second time a Kaerr has seen their father since their marriage.
Kaerr has grown a lot as a person in the year and a half of their marriage by this point. They've grown comfortable and safe in expressing themself even that little bit more. Even without being comfortable in talking back much, they have started voicing their opinions more. In trying to explain to their father a decision they've made Lorg lashes out, still thinking he can "put Kaerr back into place" with a sharp enough scare.
Kaerr hasn't forgotten what their father is like. But enough time apart makes the mark left behind by Lorg's ring hurt more than it really does. It surprises them, and it hurts afterwards to realize it shouldn't have...
George: Would you slap Henry-
Brax: Yes.
George: I didn't even finish!
Brax: Sorry, continue.
George: Would you slap Henry for 10 dollars?
Brax: I would do it for free.
Henry: Rude...
‘how willing you were to think the worst of me. why aren’t you happier? i’m just being who you’ve always though I was. i’m giving you the ending you believed in.’
*PROMPT : she who became the sun.
such words were more scathing than he likely knew. she could taste the bitterness of them on her own tongue, the bite of each syllable slashing into her supple, unguarded skin. wendy wondered if it hurt him to say as much as it hurt for her to hear, or, rather, if peter enjoyed watching her squirm under the vicious binds his voice had entangled her in. the girl’s own tongue had been ripped from right out of her throat, unable to utter even the slightest plea against the assault of imputations. yes, it had been wrong to accuse him of playing that horrid trick on her, but had they not made up ? had she not submitted to the quick explanation he'd spun and fallen back into good grace ? had she not done enough to smooth the wrinkle caused by her tantrum ?! fierce sweet mischievous playful fun good happy happy happy . . .
" stop it ! "
it happened in a flash : a hand smacked across his face with the pang of a lightning crack. a sharp gasp followed, her palm—red as the hot blush blooming against her cheeks—buzzing from the sting of her rashness. sky eyes widened, welling with a mix of conflicted emotion, and lips shaped into an 'o'. the girl was frozen. but only for a single second, just enough time to catch back her stolen breath. a crashing tide of pure ire washed over her, wiping away any appearance of surprise or sorry she wore.
" do you really think such horrid things of me ? " tight fists formed at her sides and nails pressed little crescents into her burning palm, millimeters from breaking the skin. she didn’t want him to be right, not when being so mean. " i am happy ! but i'm allowed to be other things, too . . . no, i am many other things ! more than you know. " each jab he'd swiped at her was another knife to the chest, twisting its blade mercilessly deeper into her heart. worse yet was the look in his eyes, or lack thereof. a nothingness existed within them. a void that dug its way into her core and sucked everything up ‘til she was but a cold shell. it was only when peter graced her with the warmth of his smile did she ever feel whole again. he was the sun and without his light, she felt horribly cold. she felt awfully empty.
wendy hadn't realized how loud her voice carried—shooting across the treetops and shaking the dirt floor — until silence had finally fallen over them. her chest heaved from the effort of such howling, as well as a mix of anxiety and upset. peter was an indecipherable enigma that teetered between storm and serenity. wendy was constantly balancing along his tightrope of a temperament, careful not to tilt too far lest she tumble into a pit with no way out, left to be forgotten and replaced by some other performer to play tricks for him.
twisting her lips, a joyless smile painted itself across her otherwise melancholic face. there was no twinkle in her eyes or dimples in her cheeks. no sign of a laugh dangling off the tip of her tongue. she wore the smile like a mask. “ there. is that better ? look how happy i am ! why, it’s like a new game : pretend-happy. i smile and laugh and play, and you get to guess whether it’s real. “
she knew better than to believe that any amount of arguing, yelling, or crying would do much good. the boy was far too bull-headed to be reasoned with, and she didn't have the energy to endure the hot flames that rippled off of him and licked at her skin, charring the girl with their unrelenting ferocity. not bothering to wait for whatever retort or excuse he would shoot back, wendy turned on her heel and stormed off, back towards the tree. she’d had enough of their quarrels but not before tossing a final remark over her shoulder : " you’re wrong, though. the stories . . . they were all about you. it’s always you i’ve believed in. it's always you . . .
now go clean yourself up and pretend-happy or you'll spoil everyone's supper. you are the best at pretending, after all. "
