Darling, listen to me.I made my choice. Duty to my country over love.It’s what I’ve always done, it seems. It was drummed into me my whole life. Now I’ve lost the only man I ever really loved. Mia, I want you to make your choices as a woman. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.Make your own mistakes. There’ll be plenty of them, believe me. Now, you can go back into that church and get married, or you can walk away. Whatever choice you make, Iet it come from your heart.
The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004) dir. Garry Marshall
“Whumpee!” Caretaker yelled out, jerking against the guards holding them in place as Whumper led them into the room. Whumpee looked pale, drawn. Terrified. Their eyes flickered over to Caretaker as they threw their weight against arms holding them back. It was as good as throwing themself against a brick wall. Whumpee flinched back, and Caretaker could just barely make out Whumper’s lips moving slightly right beside their ear. They wanted to tear them apart. They couldn’t imagine what they were saying to make Whumpee look so terrified, but they knew they wanted to make sure they would never lay their eyes on Whumpee again.
“Well, Caretaker, I told you I’d be right back.” Whumper raised their voice, making Whumpee cower away from them. They wrapped a hand around Whumpee’s neck and jerked them back upright, back pressed against their chest.
“Let them go!” Caretaker couldn’t stop themself from fighting to get to Whumpee, even though they knew it was useless. They were outnumbered and already weak. “They don’t have any part in this.”
Whumper smiled, their hand on Whumpee’s neck snaking further, leaning Whumpee’s head backwards onto their shoulder. “I don’t think that that’s for you to decide, Caretaker darling. After all, I have them here, don’t I?” Whumper cooed, tracing a finger down Whumpee’s cheek. Whumpee’s breath catching filled the room as they leaned away from the invading touch. The movement resulted in Whumpee hiding their face in the crook of Whumper’s neck. Based on the smirk on Whumper’s face, that was exactly the outcome they had intended.
“Whumper…” Caretaker snarled. Red hot fire coursed through their veins, made worse by the knowledge that they weren’t going to be able to stop whatever was about to happen. They were burning up from the inside.
“You should feel how much they’re shaking,” Whumper grinned, hand coming back to rest over Whumpee’s throat. “They’re absolutely terrified.”
Before Caretaker could respond with more useless protests, Whumper’s hand tightened. In one movement they flung Whumpee forward by their neck, sending them sprawling onto the floor. Caretaker shouted, but fell silent when Whumpee staggered to their feet. Clearly, Whumper was surprised too.
“Leave Caretaker alone,” Whumpee spat with more venom than anyone thought them capable of.
Whumper’s head tilted, gaze assessing. Always weighing the situation, always sickeningly ahead of everyone else. “Where did this bravery come from, lamb? I can still see you shaking.”
Whumpee’s trembling hands curled into fists. “You made the mistake of letting go of me.”
“I could have you restrained in an instant,” Whumper said, half smiling. Caretaker strained forward. What was Whumpee doing?
Whumpee jutted their chin forward. “Then do it.”
A beat passed, and Caretaker thought for a moment that Whumper would actually do it. Then they laughed.
“Stupid thing, I’m not falling for that. Caretaker is far more of a threat to me than you,” Whumper spoke with a smile, but there was a leer hidden somewhere in their tone. “And you know that. Why else would you be trying to get them free? You know you’re helpless right now.”
Whumpee’s shoulders tensed. Whumper took a step forward, and without even thinking, they stumbled backwards a step. Caretaker held their breath.
“I suppose now you’re going to keep on defying me until I’m forced to resort to restraining you, hm?” Whumper said it casually, still walking forward. Whumpee held their ground this time, with all the defiance they could muster, but Whumper brushed straight past them. “That’s not going to work either.”
“And why not?” Whumpee demanded.
Whumper turned around, grinning suddenly. They held a delicate knife in their hands. Suddenly Caretaker couldn’t breathe even if they’d wanted to. It was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. The fire in their veins turned to ice. Slush. They couldn’t even move for how stiff it made them.
“Leave them alone.” Caretaker meant to shout it, but it came out like a gust of wind, the air sucked from their lungs just as easily as the rest of the room. Still, everyone looked at them. Whumpee’s eyes glistened with tears that they were trying desperately to hold back.
Whumper regarded them steadily, but when they spoke, it wasn’t addressed to them. “I wonder, Whumpee, how much you would do for me if I threatened to hurt your dear Caretaker.”
Both of them went still, but Caretaker let out a growl of frustration. It wasn’t fair. This whole situation was their fault, and now they were being treated like they weren’t even there.
“If you were going to do that,” Whumpee breathed, “then why even bring me here in the first place?”
To their surprise, Whumper relented. “You make a fair point. I want to bring you down regardless of them. So, little thing…” They trailed off, circling around Whumpee and tracing the blade just barely over their skin as they passed. Whumpee shivered and curled in on themself. Caretaker felt frozen. Whumper crowded in beside them, jaw resting just over Whumpee’s ear as they murmured, still loud enough for everyone to hear, “On. your. Knees.”
Caretaker could hear Whumpee swallow. A heartbeat thudded in their ears, but they couldn’t tell if it was theirs, or Whumpee’s. Heavens, they just looked so scared.
Whumpee’s jaw clenched, and Caretaker was sure they were about to say something that would only egg Whumper on, but Whumper beat them to it. They slid the knNife over Whumpee’s cheekbone, just pressing in enough to draw a thin line of red over their skin. Whumpee flinched hard. Or, it might have been a flinch, but it was instantly followed by the heart-shattering sound of Whumpee’s knees hitting the floor.
Suddenly Caretaker found their voice again. “Whumper, if you don’t leave them alone—”
Whumper turned a blinding grin on them. “There’s that voice of yours. I was beginning to think you’d lost it, but I suppose you were just enjoying the show.”
“You’re the only one sick enough to enjoy this,” Caretaker spat. Their vision was blurry, they realized distantly.
Whumper hummed a note, digging their hand into Whumpee’s hair and tugging their head up. “Luckily, I enjoy this enough for all three of us. Now, Caretaker dear, pay attention. It’s you I want to hear scream.”
Then they plunged the knife into Whumpee’s side.
Caretaker did scream.
Their throat was grated raw by it as Whumpee slumped forward over the hilt of the knife, all the breath leaving them at once. Whumper held them still by the hair as they tugged it out of them and the blood started seeping into their shirt. Whumpee’s panicked whimpers and sobs ground Caretaker’s heart into dust. They weren’t even sure what they were yelling anymore. All they wanted to do was scoop Whumpee up into their arms and protect them from everything in the world that wanted to hurt them.
Whumper watched Whumpee’s pain-wracked form for a moment before crossing over to Caretaker. Caretaker tried to wrench themself out of the guards’ grip from the force of their fury alone. Whumper just smirked at them.
“Such a fragile little thing, aren’t they?” Whumper asked, and Caretaker would do anything to make sure Whumper could never even talk about Whumpee again. Their eyes caught on the knIife still held in Whumper’s hand, now nearing them. Whumper wiped the flat of the blade on Caretaker’s cheek, smearing Whumpee’s still-warm blood there. “It’s a shame you can’t protect them anymore.”
They were dying. They were dying and there was nothing he could do about it. They were laying limply in his lap, their warmth slowly fading and their skin growing paler and paler. He suddenly felt a cold hand brush weakly against his arm.
“Can you tell me a story?” they croaked, their voice scratched from hours of screaming and crying. Tears streamed down his face as he began to tell his friend their favorite tale.
I don't know if you take requests but I had an idea: A had a rough, exhausting day and doesn't realize they're coming down with something until they break down crying in B's arms. While B is holding them, they notice how warm they are like "A, you're burning up!"
i am very slow, when it comes to requests, but I DO take them 😂thank you so much for waiting - I hope you enjoy!
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A staggers into the kitchen of their small home they share with B, shedding their coat on the floor and flicking on the electric kettle to make some tea. Their whole day couldn't have gone any worse. For starters, the heat was out at their office all day on one of the coldest days of the year, and they'd spent all day trying to keep their fingers warm on the tiny desk space heater. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t work, and they were still cold.)
Making matters worse, today had been the day of their huge presentation at their job with some of their team members. But they'd made a mistake on a chart on one of their slides – and the leader of their company had pointed it out in front of the rest of the staff.
Humiliated, they'd slunk back to their seat and fought back tears for the entire rest of the meeting. And during the last hour, their laptop had crashed and lost half of a report that was due next week - and they didn't know how it was all going to get done in time.
As the water rolls to a boil, they reach their hand up to grab a mug from the cupboard. But as their fingers close around the handle, a wave of dizziness washes over them, and the ceramic slips from their hand and crashes to the floor.
"A?" B bounds into the kitchen to see A, standing over the shards of broken pottery. "You alright?"
A's lower lip trembles as they shrug weakly, and the smallest hiccup of a sob escapes their lips as they helplessly hold out their arms.
B immediately navigates around the broken pieces and makes their way to A, curling their arms around their shoulders as they cry. "Shhh. It's okay. It's just a mug. It's okay."
"Today was awful," A sobs, voice hitching as they try and catch their breath. "So, so awful." They bury their face in B's neck, and B is stunned by the sudden heat on their bare skin.
They lift up their hand and press it gently against A's forehead, and their fears are confirmed. "A, you're burning up." But A just curls in closer, and B feels the shiver ripple through their shoulders.
"M'cold," A mumbles.
"Shhh. Let's go lay down." B slips their arm around A's shoulder and gently guides them to the couch, easing them down and tucking a throw pillow under their head. Grabbing a couple throw blankets, they gently tuck one, then the other over their curled up form.
“Water’s hot. Just give me a sec and I’ll be back.” A’s too tired to protest, so they just curl deeper under the covers for a few minutes until B returns with the tea.
“Lean forward.” A sits up, expecting to drink the tea, but they’re surprised as B scoots behind them and pulls A to their chest, gently holding the mug for them so A doesn’t have to. After a few sips, A nods and leans back, curling back into B’s chest.
“Do you want to talk about today?” B asks.
A shakes their head and closes their eyes. Today was awful - but the ending wasn’t so bad. “S’okay now. You’ve got me.“
B smiles and pulls up the blankets over them both, arm securely holding A close to them. “You bet I do.”
“For the love of God, didn’t your parents teach you not to converse with a stranger?” The villain chided as they supported the hero by their waist. They sighed, having managed to intervene with the recent predicament that hero was in. Shouldn’t they know better not to deal with those thugs?
The hero clung weakly onto the villain’s coat, their fingers; thin and cold, clinging onto whatever warmth they could feel. They let out a whimper, barely audible, as the villain pulled them closer, preventing them from slipping down onto the snow.
“Seriously, do you have a dying wish,” they rambled on, trying their best to keep the hero upright. “Just what did you think you were doing? With them may I add.”
The hero remained silent, only to whisper a broken apology with much effort a minute later. The villain rolled their eyes, about to continue their nagging monologue but held their tongue realising that something didn’t feel right. A creeping uneasiness at the realisation that the hero replied with an apology instead of the snarky remarks they so often threw at the villain.
Concerned, the villain sat the hero on a bench, kneeling in front of them. Their eyes darted around, scanning for injuries. None.
Still feeling suspicious, and uncertain, they reached out, rolling up the hero’s sleeves.
Bingo. A few bruises scattered around. Bruising from various sources. But most prominent of all, bruises that came from needles; an eerie familiarity of small bruises that the villain knew too well. Their left arm instinctive tensed up but relaxed with the pressing issue. This wasn’t the right time to be remembering old wounds. With a gloved hand cupping the hero’s cheek and the other on the shoulder shaking them gently, they called out cautiously.
“Hey, [Hero]. Hey! Look at me.”
They were a mess, their forehead perspiring despite the constant chattering of teeth. Their now small, weak frame shivered in the winter breeze despite having been dressed in long, thick, woollen clothing. The hero’s eyes were dazed, their eyelids beginning to droop. Their pale lips, dry and cracked.
Sensing that the weight of the situation was way worse than expected, the villain shed their coat, draping it around the hero before carrying them bridal style. They muttered a few cusses under their breath, keeping the hero close to their chest. With a quick sprint, the villain made their way to their parked car, speeding off to their base as they consulted their faithful sidekick for medical aid.
Santa is on strike due to global warming. All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger. Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.
No protected person may be punished for an offense he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.
This technically counts, as students are civilians, and thus considered a “protected person”. So yes, collective classroom punishment breaks the fourth Geneva Convention, and she should be rewarded for standing up for human rights and doing her research.
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prguitarman
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