#or a small child in desperate need of saving

[deew-y]

a little help

pairing: o.de x reader

wc: 900

summary: you can't seem to stop your niece from crying, so you ask your boyfriend seungmin for help

genre: fluff

warnings: none

݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪ ˖

she wouldn't stop crying. she just wouldn't. you sighed, desperate, as you cradled the baby in your arms while wondering why on earth you agreed to take care of your little niece. you had the shoulder part of your t-shirt completely wet from the baby's tears and snot. when the tantrum got worse and didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime sooner, you decided to go in search of the powerful weapons.

you left your niece on the couch with one of her toys and picked up your phone, opened the contact app and called the only person who could solve your problem.

after a couple of rings, he picked up. “what's wrong? you need my help already?” your boyfriend, seungmin, was on the other line.

“stop being cocky and come over. really, it seems like my sister has spoiled the kid or something. she won't stop crying, no matter what i do” you complained with a tired sigh, running a hand over your face.

“don't worry, i'm on my way” said seungmin. you could hear him grab his keys. he already knew you were going to be taking care of your niece. in fact, you had to cancel a date because of it. your boyfriend was exceptional with babies, unlike you, so you had made a little bet on how long you could go without asking for his help. he probably even had his shoes already on, waiting for your imminent call for help.

you left your phone on the coffee table and took the baby in your arms, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. you rocked her softly, trying to subsidize her cries. about ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. “thank goodness”, you thought.

with your niece in your arms, you got up to open the door. when you did, seungmin was standing with her arms crossed, smiling victoriously.

“don't start” you warned him, raising your eyebrows.

“but I didn't say anything” he said with a chuckle, stretching his arms out for you to pass the baby to him, which you did without complaint. you noticed how the little girl grabbed the fabric of the boy's t-shirt with her small hands, hiding her head in the crook of his neck. seungmin smiled, patting her back. “go get something to eat, I'm sure he's hungry.”

you closed the door as the two of them headed for the couch, where your boyfriend sat cuddling the baby. it was a lovely scene, if not for the subtle jealousy you had that your own niece preferred him to you. you went to the kitchen to get the bottle, as the baby was calm enough not to throw it all away with a tantrum.

you plopped down on the couch next to seungmin and gave him the bottle, which he took without taking his eyes off your niece. you watched as she closed her fingers around the container he put in her mouth. little by little, it seemed as if she hadn't cried. despite your envy, you couldn't help but admire your boyfriend's skill with small children, how they seemed to open up and trust him instantly.

you rested your head on seungmin's shoulder, who wrapped his free arm around yours. he left a soft kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes at the contact. in the end, taking care of someone so young was quite exhausting.

“you're too good with her, i hate you. maybe my sister should stop calling me to babysit her and just call you instead. we'd save three-quarters of her tantrums” i pointed an accusing finger at the baby, frowning.

“and I'd be delighted. i mean, don't you see this little ball of cuteness?” he sighed, dumbfounded by the simple fact of the child.

“little devil ball, you mean” you mumbled, stucking your tongue at her. seungmin chuckled softly, pressing you a little closer against him with his arm. you scooted a little bit closer and positioned your head over his collarbone. he moved his hand to stroke your hair gently. how does he manage with the baby having me in this position?, you wondered. but you couldn't complain, you were finally comfortable after changing position countless times trying to shut your niece up.

after a while, seungmin pocked your arm. “i'm going to put her to sleep, okay?” he indicated softly. you stood upright while he secured the baby girl in his arms, who was falling asleep. he came back minutes later, crunching the bones in her neck, you were still in the same position, eyes closed. you opened one when you heard him come and sit next to you. he brushed a few rebel hairs away from your face with an amused smile, finding the whole thing fascinating for some reason.

“what are you laughing at?” you asked with a confused chuckle.

“nothing, nothing” he replied, putting his arm around you as before. “ah, and just so you know, I haven't forgotten about the bet” he whispered in your ear, teasingly.

[spacedace]

Haven't seen much more than clips of Creature Commandos but even still I can't get this dpxdc idea out of my head so here, have a peompt:

Ellie (Dani), fresh from escaping Vlad and losing all her clone brothers, ends up stumbling upon Dr Phosphorus at some point in her wandering. Maybe it's while he's still in Gotham doing his revenge/crime boss thing, maybe it's after he's in jail, maybe it's during the events of Ceature Commandos. Where/when it happens doesn't terribly matter.

What really matters is that Ellie, freshly on her own, lonely and a bit traumatized after losing her brothers, sees this blackened skeleton enveloped in glowing green energy and can't help but think of the big brother she lost and imprints on him like an undead baby duck.

Phosphorus for his part doesn't really know what to do with this sassy lost child that's latched onto him like a chaotic little lamprey, but he'll be dammed if he's gonna let anything happen to this kid who can tell when his empty skull of a face isn't smiling and who doesn't seem to have had a single decent adult around in her entirely too short life.

[bilal-sala7]

WITH LOVE AND CARE, WE SHINE A SPOTLIGHT ON RAMI’S FAMILY, WHO ARE ENDURING DIRE HUMANITARIAN CONDITIONS AND ARE IN DESPERATE NEED OF OUR SUPPORT.

Rami’s family (@/rami-ajr91), originally residing in northern Gaza, has been forced to flee multiple times due to war and destruction, eventually settling in a displacement camp in Deir al-Balah. They now live in cold tents that lack the basic necessities of a dignified life—no electricity, no clean water, and no proper sanitation facilities, let alone healthy food.

They are compelled to cook on open fires, using plastic for fuel due to the high cost of firewood, further exacerbating their daily struggles.

Amid these harsh conditions, the family has a four-year-old child who has been ill since birth. The child requires special care and daily medication, but he still cannot speak and is dependent on diapers.

The war not only destroyed their home but also took away their livelihood, as they lost the small shop that once supported the family.

Their dream is simple, yet profound: to save their child’s life and restore stability to their family. They are now in urgent need of our collective support, and we can be part of realizing this dream.

Do not leave them to face this hardship alone. They deserve all the solidarity and assistance we can provide.

@punkitt-is-here @wayneradiotv @wolfertinger666 @fairuzfan

DONATE HERE

Thank you all

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[najahmeq7]

🇵🇸Pain, sadness and suffering every day we die. Yesterday I told you about our neighbors. Today I tell you about the loss of the most precious thing we have, the uncle, beloved, and honorable professor, Imad Muqdad, who was martyred today, along with a group of his grandchildren, in a Zionist bombing that led to the destruction of everything. This is our life. Every day we lose someone dear and precious to our hearts. Today our relative was martyred. Tomorrow it is us, and God knows best.🇵🇸🍉🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

🚨An urgent appeal to the kind-hearted people who stand by me and help me in our ordeal. We are being bombed every day and every hour there is a martyr.🚨

I am Najah Al-Hila, a mother of four children. My house has been completely destroyed, and my husband Khaled was injured in the war. I have a small child who has no milk, and we have no food. We are trapped and don't know how to face these difficult circumstances. Please, donate to us now. We are in desperate need of any possible help, as every passing moment increases our suffering.

My situation is extremely difficult, I can't describe the pain I endure every day. My house was destroyed, my husband Khaled was injured in the war, and my young children don't know what safety or peace means. I can't provide their most basic needs. The little one in my arms can’t find milk, and we have no food. I try to be strong in front of them, but my heart is breaking with pain and helplessness. I don't know how to get through this, or where to find help. Life has become very dark for me, and I am powerless to change anything. Every day that passes is a heavy burden, and I walk through it with no hope. I need a hand to help me, or even a word to reassure my heart.

My situation has become unbearable, and every moment that passes increases the suffering of me and my family. I am in urgent need of immediate financial assistance, as I cannot provide even the simplest necessities for my children in these difficult circumstances. I need at least $150 to secure milk for my little one and some food for all of us. Any donation, no matter how small, could make the difference between life and death for us. Please, don't leave us in this crisis, as I am living in conditions I cannot bear any longer.

I am now trapped in a place I cannot escape from, and the situation here is unbearable. My house has been completely destroyed, my husband Khaled was injured in the war, and I am struggling greatly to secure the basic needs of my children. The little one cannot find milk, and we have no food. I cannot reach any outside help due to the siege. I am completely helpless, and every passing moment increases my fear and anxiety. Time is running out, my life is in your hands. Please, save us from death. I desperately need an urgent donation to help me meet my children's needs and keep them alive in these difficult circumstances.

As you read this, there are those who are lying under the rubble, waiting for death. Those who lost their families, their homes, their dreams, and I am one of them. My family and I were displaced after our home was destroyed. All that is left for us is some clothes and memories that refuse to die under the bombing. Today, we have been struck by a tragedy. On the first day of Eid, children and their father went to play and buy some toys. They were bombed by a missile that led to the martyrdom of all of them.🥹🥹

Don't leave me, stand by me. Your donation will reach us. Your participation will help us reach our goal. We have collected approximately 13,198 out of 80,000 to help rescue my family before I lose them like we lost others. Please save us.🙏🙏

I can no longer provide for the necessities of life. My family's future is completely destroyed. I can no longer live in Gaza. I want to leave the Strip, so I need $5,000 per person.❤️

I hope everyone who watches my story will help me.

So I can get out of Gaza and find treatment and a better life for my children and family.

I am asking for help, and I hope you will help me and donate.

To save my life from death.

I hope you will donate even $25-50; it would be wonderful. Any more than that would make us happier.🙏❤️🇵🇸🇵🇸

🇵🇸🇵🇸My campaign has been verified by both🇵🇸🇵🇸

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[a-shade-of-blue]

UN has warned that 14,000 babies in Gaza can die in 48 hours if aid does not arrive in time. Shaimaa (@shaimaahadaid) is terrified for her children. Shaimaa has a son Adam, and twin daughters Ilana and Ivona whom she gave birth to right before this genocidal war.

Ilana suffers from serious health issues since birth. Shaimaa has already lost Ivona to this genocide. Losing one child is already a devastating ordeal, and Shaimaa does not want to lose any of her other children.

However, Ilana has trouble breathing and has even fallen so seriously ill that she had to spend an entire month in hospital. However, medical treatment is very very expensive in Gaza right now. With no food, no treatment, and no home, Ilana's health is very fragile and she is struggling to survive.

This is why your donation is so important. Your contribution, no matter how small, will help provide little Ilana with food and the medical treatment she so desperately needs. With Ilana's weakened body, any help can make a huge difference. But this fundraiser has received only $137 USD as of writing, so please help if you can!

Vetted! #610 on @/gazavetters vetted list!

You can enter my necklace raffle (2.0) if you donate to this fundraiser!

Tagging for reach~ Please dm me if you want of the mailing list! Thank you!

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[hananfamily]

Once again, we find ourselves facing hunger, cold, and despair, Negotiations have failed, the crossings are closed, and everything has been cut off. No cooking gas, no meat, and fruits and vegetables have become a luxury we can no longer afford. With donations declining, I can no longer secure healthy food for my little child, my family, or even myself, while I carry a life inside me that desperately needs nourishment and safety. 😥

The cold bites at us mercilessly, and hunger steals what little strength we have left. We try to endure, but our exhausted bodies can no longer take it. We fast all day, only to find nothing to break our fast with. 💔

I am afraid, afraid for myself, for my child, and for this unborn baby who has yet to see the light. Any help, no matter how small, could mean life for us in the midst of this catastrophe. If you can extend a helping hand, please don’t hesitate, We need your donation today more than ever. 🫂

Or donate via PayPal

Please, share this plea, it might reach a kind heart that could save us. 🙏

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #152 ) ✅

Vetted by 90-ghost ✅

[hashembadr]

Please stop‼️

A Child Waiting for Rescue—We Need Your Help Now 💔

My friends, we are only £2700 away from making little seham dream come true—getting the urgent surgery she desperately needs. This operation is not just a medical procedure; it is a new chance at life.🙏🇵🇸

Why is your donation important now?

🔹 Siham has been suffering for months After the failure of the first operationand needs this surgery urgently.

🔹 Any delay could lead to serious complications.

🔹 Every pound makes a difference—no matter how small, it’s a step toward saving her.

Time is critical, and we are so close to reaching our goal. Together, we can give Siham a new life. Please don’t hesitate to contribute today!

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #102 )

#SaveSiham #DonateNow #AChanceForLife

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[lets-steal-an-archive]

By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024

I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.

I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.

I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.

And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.

But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.

Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.

Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.

I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.

Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.

After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.

So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.

At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.

This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.

This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.

Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.

[polari]

i have recently been in contact with jamal al-dahdouh, a sweet young man from the gaza strip. he is the oldest child in a family of six, with ages ranging from 18 to 4 years old, and they have been living in a tent since an airstrike destroyed their house. recently, there was a bombing near jamal’s tent, which destroyed it, too. the situation is critical, and he has reached out to me to spread his campaign. i’m helping him, but i alone am not enough. i urge you to share his campaign if you can’t donate, and to donate whatever you’re able when you can. no one reading this is powerless to help someone who desperately needs it.

in his words:

I am not asking for much — I only want a chance to live, a chance to continue my education, to get medical treatment, and to protect the remaining members of my family. That is why I appeal to kind-hearted people to extend a helping hand. Your donation, no matter how small, could be the reason save our lifes.

jamal’s gofundme

#647 on gazavetters

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic Mother! Cleopatra x Reincarnated Reader

Getting Reincarnated as the daughter of Cleopatra was the last thing you expected to happen to you.

The woman had you with a lover and decided to pass you off as the daughter of her first husband, Ptolemy XIII.

Let us get one thing straight, you were proud to be Cleopatra's daughter, as you saw her intelligence and chrismatic nature.

Being her first child, her overprotective attitude showed as you grew up.

She seduced Julius Caesar and Mark Antony to secure your safety.

There's no denying that you are her favourite child.

You tried to convince your mother to take different paths to avoid her demise.

But in the end, the paths still led to her demise.

However, the last female Pharaoh of Egypt decided to take you with her, refusing to leave you in the mercy of Augustus Caesar like the rest of her children.

Cleopatra’s gaze burned with a frenzied intensity as she clutched the your trembling hands, her voice trembling with emotion.

"My dearest daughter," she whispered, her tone a mix of desperation and conviction.

"Rome’s chains will not touch us. If Augustus dares to take us, we will not give him the satisfaction of parading us as spoils of war. You and I are above such humiliation, we are divine!"

Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into your skin, and she gestured toward a small, ornate chest on the table.

Within it lay the deadly asp, coiled and waiting.

Cleopatra’s eyes shone with determination as she drew the you closer, her words laced with a terrifying calmness.

"Together, we shall ascend to the gods. You belong with me, forever."

You stumbled backward, your heart pounding in terror as Cleopatra’s words sank in.

"No! I don’t want to die! Please, Mother, we can escape! There has to be another way!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face.

The idea of experiencing death once again, a foreign, unimaginable concept for someone pulled from a different world sent you into panic.

Cleopatra, however, dismissed your protests with a soft, almost pitying smile, as though the your fear was a child’s naivety.

"Hush now," she murmured, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that only deepened the dread in her heart.

"You don’t understand yet, but you will. This is the only freedom left to us. The gods will welcome us as one."

Desperation clawed at you as Cleopatra reached for the asp, her movements slow.

You fell to your knees, clutching Cleopatra’s skirts, your voice breaking as you begged,

"Please, don’t do this! I’m not ready, I don’t want to leave, I need to be here for my siblings"

For the first time, Cleopatra hesitated, her hand trembling as she looked down at the your tear-streaked face.

For a fleeting moment, something human flickered in Cleopatra’s gaze, doubt, perhaps, or sorrow.

But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the unyielding determination of a queen who believed she was saving her beloved daughter from a fate worse than death.

"You don’t need to be afraid," Cleopatra whispered, pulling the reader into a suffocating embrace.

"We are leaving this world together. You’ll thank me when we are free."

However, when the asp bites you then Cleopatra...you miraculously and barely manage to survive.

𓅁 𓅂

When you woke, the oppressive weight of Cleopatra’s arms was gone, replaced by the cool silk of Roman linens.

The air felt heavy, and the low murmur of distant voices sent a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, your body weak but alive, and saw a figure seated beside your bed, his presence radiating authority. Augustus.

His smile was unnervingly calm, his piercing eyes watching her as if you were a prey ensnared in his trap.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Augustus said softly, his voice like honey laced with venom.

He leaned closer, his hands clasped as though he were greeting an honored guest, not a survivor of a tragedy he orchestrated.

"You’re even more exquisite than I imagined. Cleopatra spoke of you so often, a divine child, she called you, her most precious treasure."

His gaze darkened slightly, a possessive edge creeping into his tone.

"And now, you’re mine." Your heart raced as you struggled to sit up, your body shaking under the weight of exhaustion.

Augustus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of Cleopatra’s tender touch.

"You don’t need to fear me, I will protect you, as she couldn’t. No harm will come to you… so long as you remember who owns you now.”

[silverspectre51]

Summoning the Boy King

Darkseid was rampaging through Metropolis, Superman was injured, and the Justice League was desperate. As the League hid between fallen skyscrapers, John Constantine prepared a last-ditch effort to save the Earth.

The Hellblazer drew an intricate sigil on the ground; its circular design stretching over six feet in diameter. Most of the symbols within were space-related, while the others were themed to royalty. Batman, one of the few heroes in-the-know, grunted.

"Are you sure this king ghost can help?"

Constantine sighed and pinched his nose.

"He's the High King of the Infinite Realms, Bats, an' he's bloody powerful. He'll stop Darkseid, alright, but what he does afterward is anyone's guess. Believe me, I wouldn't be doin' this if we had a choice."

Batman sighed and glanced at the smoke-filled horizon.

"Alright, get on with it, then. We're running out of time."

Constantine nodded and placed a single offering in the center of the sigil: a squishmallow of Disney's iconic blue alien, Stitch.

"I beg your finest pardon," Batman sputtered, "What on Earth is that?"

Constantine sighed again as he took his position at the edge of the sigil.

"Mate, the book was very specific. Unlike his predecessor, the new king requires a single offering of space or alien theme that is suitable for children. It's bloody strange, but beggars can't be choosers."

Batman just shook his head and looked on. Constantine raised his hands and started the summoning chant. An eerie, green glow spread across the sigil, and light fog gathered above it. Little white orbs floated up from the ground and spiraled together, forming the slowly spinning visage of a spiral galaxy.

"Incredible..." Zatanna gasped, "This summoning is on a level all its own. This king of yours is on the level of Gods."

Finally, something began to form over the small galaxy. Batman's expression quickly softened, much to the surprise of his teammates. It was mere seconds before they understood, as a black blob full of white stars formed into the shape of a boy. The blob had spiky 'bangs' if you could call them that and eerie, glowing green eyes.

The squishmallow floated into the boy's arms and he squeezed it excitedly. At the same time, he took on a far more human form, with pale skin and snowy white hair. His eyes had whites now but still glowed green. He was dressed in black and white, royal attire with green accents, a black crown floating in a green aurora, and a black ring with a green stone. A black cape flowed down his back, its underside looking as if it were cut from a clear night sky.

"Awesome offering, dude! What can I do for ya?"

The voice was a reedy tenor in the throes of puberty, and its owner was more than a little geeky. The boy's smile was infectious, or it would have been were it not for the specific circumstance.

"How old are you?" Batman asked, his tone soft, "We weren't expecting a child."

The boy waved him off like it was nothing.

"No one ever does. And, um... technically I'm fifteen. I know, I don't look it."

Constantine cut in, clearly out of patience.

"Look, this monster Darkseid is destroying our world. We need you to stop him."

The boy turned in the air and took in the destruction around him. Somehow, he seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Okay, but I gotta get permission first. This'll take a lot of power." He paused, taking a breath, and then yelled in a strange language. "Mom!"

Constantine paled and the other heroes shrank back as a green portal tore into existence. A young woman, barely an adult herself, floated out. She had waist-length blue hair and the same glowing, green eyes. She wore a royal outfit in white and maroon, complete with a glittering, silver tiara studded with rubies.

"What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Mhmm! These guys need me to take out this Darkseid guy, though. Can I use my full power?"

Constantine snuck a drink from his flask. He did not sign up to deal with the fucking Queen Mother of the Infinite Realms, nor had he known she existed. God, he needed a smoke...

The Queen Mother smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead. She spoke whilst taking his new plush.

"Yes, Danny, you may. Let me hold onto this for you so it doesn't get dirty."

Danny nodded and turned away.

"Okay, thanks mom!"

The Queen Mother vanished through and with the portal she had created. Moments later, Danny shot off into the city, with the remaining able-bodied heroes hot on his trail. The young king reached Darkseid rather quickly, engaging him while the Leaguers looked on from cover. Darkseid was foolishly amused.

"A child dares oppose me? Flee, whelp."

Batman tensed as Darkseid unleashed his Omega Effect. Two red beams shot from his eyes, and yet the young king floated firm. Two eerie, green beams shot from his own eyes and, to the shock of everyone, overpowered his foe's. Darkseid shattered into many tiny pieces which then vanished into thin air.

"Man, he really wasn't smart!" Danny grinned, "Who fires a death beam at the king of the dead?"

He received no response, as the heroes were too stunned to speak. Smiling, he saluted the group before tearing open another portal.

"Oh well; villain gone, carry on. Later guys!"

Batman glared at Constantine, but the Brit had already absconded. Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to this new reality. Darkseid was gone, but there was an incredible new power to worry about.

(Note: My only source of information is DP canon, DP fanon, and the Justice League cartoons from the early '00s. I apologize for any inaccuracies with Batman's or Constantine's behavior.)

[falesten-iw]

Urgent 🆘️ call: 🚨🍉 Please help..🥺😓🙏

My name is Falastin, and I am a mother of three small children, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 3 months. I am not very good with social media, but I am writing to seek your help to give my family in Gaza the chance to live their lives again.

Due to the ongoing genocide we in Gaza are experiencing, my family need your help to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety.

In november 2023 last year, i lost three of my cousins from my mother's family with their wifes and children's, some of them still under the rubble untill now. 

In mars 2024 this year i lost another 2 cousins in Alshifa hostpital, this shock after three months of the first lose was a big slap into our face, it was a harsh reminder that death didn’t stop, and that none of us is an exception in this genocide, not a woman nor a child, everyone of us is a target to the death machines above our heads.

My family has lost everything. Some of them have tragically passed away, and those who remain are without shelter, moving from one temporary place to another in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Currently "After more than 20 times of being displaced and having to leave our house escaping from rockets and death " they have fled south and are living in a makeshift tent made from plastic bags and torn clothes.

Each day is a battle for survival. Each day, my family wakes up not knowing if they will have food to eat, clean water to drink, or a safe place to rest. Their homes have been wiped, and their children sit sleepless waiting their death. In Gaza, there is no where to seek shelter, no bunkers, nowhere to hide. Gaza is no more than 40 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide with a population of just over two million. Gaza's border is completely surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The only way out of Gaza is to Egypt.

I used to introduce myself as the youngest in the family but in this GENOCIDE I’m a big sister who see her siblings’ future getting lost in front of her eyes, as i see my brothers kids who are still young and supposed to be in school, my mom who is 73 years old unable to find her medicine, as I see them, I made it a mission to myself to save my family or who’s left alive from it, to save their future from all of this and to escape Gaza.

Despite everything, I still have hope to save those who remain of my family. But I need all the help I can get from every person on earth. This challenge is not easy for me, especially since I am not good with social media and i dont have so many follower to reach and ask them for help. However, I am trying, and maybe with your support, the impossible can become possible.

Asking for your help is the only way I have to save my family’s life and future. Your help can be our hope when hope seems far away. Because of that, I appeal to your generosity and compassion, asking for help so that we can gather the necessary funds to help my family.

Photos of "Lina," who was born at the start of the war, and she is now 9 months old. Your donation could give her the chance to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety with her family.

I would like to thank everyone who has donated, shared and supported my campaign so far. Your generosity has given us hope in the darkest of times, and I am deeply grateful.

So far, we have raised 3,950 SEK of our 2,000,000 SEK goal - August 15th. While this is a small step, it is a crucial one, and it shows that together, we can make a difference. We still have a long way to go, and I urge you to continue sharing our story and contributing if you can.

Every donation, no matter the size, brings us closer to saving my family and giving them a chance at life. Please read and act as if it were your family, your mother, your siblings in these conditions. 🙏🙏🙏💔💔💔💔

Important note: Donation value:

** 1$ = 10.5 Swedish kr

** 10$ = 105 Swedish kr

** 100$ = 1050 Swedish kr

** 1000$ = 10500 Swedish kr

VETTED and shared by 90-ghost, also as no. 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet compiled by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi and shared in the masterpost.

We have also been verified by Al Jazeera News. Here is the video. I added this video today, august 15th. Its showing my cousin and aunt in the hospital, where she shares how the Israeli army airstruck them with their kids. Listen to my aunt Suad "Em Mhammed".

Best regards,

Falastin and her family.

[lgbtq-refugees]

Dear friends, donors, supporters, and well-wishers,

We are a group of people from Sudan who fled our homeland due to conflict. Initially, we were over 500, but after a long and dangerous journey, only 120 of us made it to South Sudan. Sadly, not everyone survived, and it breaks our hearts to see our numbers continue to decline. Now, we are 110 people, desperately trying to reach Uganda for safety.

We are urgently seeking your help to make this journey. We have been stranded here for a long time, facing starvation and a lack of medical care. Many of our mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers have already passed away. With no one else to turn to, we are reaching out to you for support.

To reach Uganda, each person needs $500, which will cover:

• $300 for transport

• $70 for food during the journey

• $120 for basic survival needs after arriving in Uganda

Since we are far from South Sudan’s capital, Juba, our journey will take four days. First, we must reach Juba, then travel for two days to Uganda. Once there, we will not stay in the capital, Kampala, but move directly to other areas for safety.

With 110 people, we need $55,000 to complete this journey. We also have 17 dogs and 8 cats, and while we would never want to leave them behind, we will do our best to bring them with us.

We could have moved earlier, but our GoFundMe has received only small donations, which have helped with medical care but not enough to escape.

THIS IS WHY WE NEED YOUR SUPPORT NOW—TO SURVIVE.

• A $500 donation can save the life of one person in our community.

• A $1,000 donation can help two people or even more—perhaps a child and a grandmother.

• Any amount will contribute to someone’s survival, as donations add up to help each person make it.

We understand that $55,000 may seem like a large amount, but it is not just for us—it is to save an entire community.

WHAT HAPPENS IF WE DON’T REACH $55,000?

As a community, we have made a heartbreaking decision: If we don’t raise the full amount, we will still attempt to move forward. However, we will have to vote on who gets to leave—prioritizing children, grandmothers, and people with disabilities. The rest will have to stay behind, hoping for another chance. It is a heavy decision, but we have no other option.

The profile picture on our GoFundMe was taken when we first arrived in South Sudan. The second image in this post shows our current reality—the shelter we built while living here. https://gofund.me/12c12ab7

Thank you so much for your donations, which are truly saving lives. Even the truly small donations are making a big difference, and if you cannot afford donating, reblogging is a huge help. We appreciate your time and kindness in understanding our desperate situation.

May you always be healthy.

The Crying Community

From Sudan → South Sudan → Destination: Uganda

[gaza-giving-tree]

Imagine being forced to choose between feeding your starving children or putting a roof over their heads.

Images: Hossam Al-Qazzaz and his family live atop the ruins of their beloved home in Gaza, which was destroyed by the conflict.

@hanon-qazaz

@hanoon-gaza

Written by @visionsofaselfmademan (new blog @rumiandroses )

This is cruel reality for the Al-Qazzaz family in Gaza: Hossam, his wife Hanan, their four young children (Bashar, age 9; Hani, age 8; Diana, age 4; and Habiba, just 4 months old), and Hossam’s elderly parents (both in their seventies, one of whom was badly burned and requires constant care). Their lives were forever changed when their home was destroyed by war. Now, they live amidst the rubble of their former life, sheltered only by a flimsy tent that fails to protect them from roaming wild animals and the ever-present threat of violence. The winter rains soak their makeshift shelter, leaving them all cold and vulnerable.

Images: (Left) Baby Habiba cries from hunger, as the family cannot afford milk or even disposable diapers. (Right) Little Bashar has been bitten by rats that invaded the family's tent in the night.

The Al-Qazzaz family once dreamed of escaping Gaza to rebuild their lives in safety, but the costs of evacuation—estimated at €5,000 per person—are insurmountable. So far, their GoFundMe fundraiser hasn't raised even enough to get one of them to safety, let alone all eight.

Realizing that escape was out of reach for the moment, they shifted their focus to building a modest room amidst the ruins of their home. But even that small hope has proven unattainable. With donations coming in too slowly to make any substantial change to their living situation, and prices for food and basic necessities skyrocketing to astronomical heights, the donations to their GoFundMe campaign must now go toward survival, leaving no resources for rebuilding or dreaming of a safer future.

My name is Bethany Grace. (Though some of you might also know me as "Liam.") I am the founder of The Gaza Giving Tree. I have encountered so many amazing people since I began this project, but the Al-Qazzaz family's humility and selflessness, despite overwhelming hardship, have earned my deepest respect. They ask for nothing beyond the bare essentials—food, shelter, and safety for their children.

This second campaign was not their idea (though I DID get their blessing to create it!). This precious family was fully prepared to patiently struggle on their own, and use their GoFundMe donations to merely survive.

NO FAMILY should have to endure this. NO PARENT should have to decide between feeding their child or giving them a safe place to sleep. The Al-Qazzaz family deserves more than this relentless struggle for survival. They deserve a chance to rebuild their lives, to live with dignity, and to dream of a future free from fear.

That’s why I have created a separate Chuffed campaign for them, dedicated solely to raising enough money to either help them evacuate to safety, or rebuild a secure home. This gives the Al-Qazzaz family a designated fund to help save for their future, while allowing them to continue to survive on the GoFundMe campaign in the interim.

Every donation, no matter how small, moves the Al-Qazzaz family closer to the stability and peace they so desperately need. If you cannot donate, sharing their story can make an enormous difference, as it can help their story reach people who can assist financially.

Let’s show the Al-Qazzaz family that they are not alone in their struggle. Let’s give them the chance to dream, to rebuild, and to live with the dignity that EVERY HUMAN BEING DESERVES.

Thank you for reading, caring, and keeping their voices alive. Together, we can make a difference.

You can donate to the Al-Qazzaz family's Chuffed campaign [HERE].

You can also donate to the Al-Quzzaz family's original GoFundMe campaign [HERE].

This campaign has been vetted by @gazavetters and is (#287) on their list of verified campaigns.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[sunseed-fandump]

I’ve been wondering on how the bad batch would meet Moonlight cookie and Stardust Cookie and their options on them?

(I would also like to know moonlight and stardust cookie options on the bad batch as well)

In canon, Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie go to the City of Wizards to recruit Moonlight Cookie against the forces of Dark Enchantress Cookie.

In the Bad Batch AU, I imagine a different set of cookies are sent by PV to speak with Moonlight Cookie. (Most likely Black Raisin and Strawberry Crepe.) Meanwhile, the kids go there to try to plunder the magical secrets the city holds. The location of the City had been revealed to Wizard Cookie in a dream and he is VERY excited to see the legendary city for himself.

I imagine this arc would be very Wizard focused, specifically addressing his almost compulsive need to gain more power due to the staff. In a way, he’s following a similar path to the Wizards who built the city: their ambition seems to have been their downfall. Wizard Cookie, however, is still on that climb BEFORE the fall. There’s still time to save him from being entirely consumed by the power he fervently seeks.

Wizard would probably get into a heavy debate/argument with Blueberry Pie Cookie over this issue.

Dreams are funny things. The rules of the real world don’t apply if one doesn’t wish them to. And since the children reside in a dream controlled by Moonlight Cookie, she can very simply change some rules, even in her dormant state. Like, for example, the need for a certain cookie to remain holding a certain staff. And she wouldn’t even need to lift a finger in order to, just as a hypothetical, subconsciously twist the dream in such a way that same cookie gets separated from the staff and his group.

This wouldn’t be done with malicious intent; in fact, it would be the opposite.

During their journey through the City, the kids would come across the Labyrinth of Remembrance. It wouldn’t be a big piece of the arc, considering Sugar Glass Cookie is no longer here. But it is within the Labyrinth where Wizard gets separated from Wild Strawberry and Gingerbrave, kickstarting them having to wake Moonlight up in order to get him back. HOWEVER, this trip inside the Labyrinth will have an unintended side-effect that will come back later to haunt them:

Some of the kids’ memories get imprinted on the sugar glass. Memories that are discovered by one of the cookies sent by PV. This bit won’t come into play until much much later, but it’s something that will have consequences, nonetheless.

Meanwhile with Wizard, it is revealed the dream that told him the location of the City was Moonlight Cookie’s doing, though it was subconsciously. When the Slumbering Moon silently wished to see a “real wizard” again due to her heartache and fear of a terrible calamity, her Dream had rushed to fulfill her desire, though not entirely how she intended.

While she had not originally intended to invite Wizard and his friends here, she is still glad he came.

Another funny thing about dreams, despite how nonsensical they are, they’re also terribly honest. They lay a person’s rawest emotions and desires out plainly, as one’s subconsciousness pushes itself to the forefront in a desperate bid to be acknowledged. Wizard cannot hide anything from her because of this. She pries away the hard shell forged of hurt and bitterness that Wizard has constructed to protect himself and sees the boy for what he truly is: Afraid. A lost and scared little boy who just wants to be free. A little boy who has been taken advantage of by an evil spirit and told that only being powerful and ruthless will get him what he wants. Beyond the hurt, she sees a child who is bright and brilliant, whose zeal for magic reminds her so much of the Wizards of the distant past. It’s almost as if her dear friends were in front of her once again, in the form of this small child.

And she feels pity for him.

“Come rest. Know peace.” She gently beckons, and pulls Wizard into a soft embrace, holding him in a way nobody ever has before. “I will protect your dreams, for as long as you are here.”

Wizard is not afraid of her. Rationally, he should be, yet he can’t help but feel completely safe here. He still asks, “Why…?”

He’s rotten. He’s no good. He’s corrupted and fowl and everything he touches burns and burns and burns until all that’s left is ashes. He’s hurt others just as much as others have hurt him. He’s a vile child who is going to grow up to be a complete monster. He knows this to be true, because it’s been told to him over and over again by others. There is no going back. No hope for him. Yet here is this Goddess of Dreams welcoming him into her warm embrace despite just having met.

Why?

“Do I need a reason to comfort someone who is hurting?” she asks. “Does kindness need to be conditional?”

If this were the waking world, Wizard would hiss and curse. He’d tell her he didn’t need her pity. He’d shove her away and recoil even deeper into his shell, untrusting and hateful.

But this was a dream, a realm where one’s truest self is laid bare, so the boy cries and sinks deeper into her embrace, wanting nothing more than to be held and soothed in the way he has seen other children comforted. And Moonlight Cookie cries with him, for she sees the wicked thorns the Azure Flame Staff’s curse has buried into his soul and she knows there is nothing she can do to help him at this moment. Not without risking great damage to him, that is. And they cry together, just the two of them, in this peaceful quiet dream.

“Come rest. Know peace.” Moonlight Cookie cradles the boy close, running a hand through his hair and wiping tears from his eyes. “I will protect your dreams, for as long as you need me to.”

He lets it all spill out from him. His pain, his fear, his rage. His emotions feel raw, like reopening an infected scarred-over wound and letting the rot spill out. He tells her all the awful truths he’s learned; how the real world is a terrible place and the only way to survive is to be just as terrible. How tired he is, but how he doesn’t feel like he can stop, lest he disappoint his friends and their dream of a world where they can finally be happy crumbles apart.

In return, she whispers stories to him of when the city was alive. Of the lessons the Wizards imparted on her, and of the lessons she learned through their loss. She tells him how she regrets not being able to prevent the events that necessitated the city's mass evacuation. She warns him that those who are strong must also be gentle, and those who are powerful must remember to be kind. That is the secret to a truly happy world; the world he wishes for.

They both rest soundly until Gingerbrave and Wild Strawberry activate the Clocktower, probably with the help of the Union Emissaries. Right on time too, because Stardust Cookie arrives not too long after the kids reunite.

Wizard won’t tell the others what he talked with Moonlight Cookie about (was it even really talking if its just thoughts and memories bleeding into each other in a dreamlike haze?), but seeing the city she loves so much being destroyed…

Well, much to Gingerbrave’s and Wild Strawberry’s surprise, Wizard Cookie tells them he wants to go out of his way to save the City. Usually, they don’t try to rescue places they initially plan to wreak havoc in, but… Wizard seems really worked up about this. He seems to actually care and, well, who are they to say no?

So they help Moonlight fight off Stardust Cookie, however Wizard’s staff starts acting up. Why? Because it wants to consume Stardust’s lifeforce. It tries to compel Wizard to kill him. Imagine the power he would gain from killing such a being. All of it, just for him, all he has to do is take one cheap shot while Moonlight has Stardust distracted... But Wizard, for the very first time since obtaining the staff, does not comply.

“No.” He grips the Azure Flame Staff firmly. “Not this one.” Because he can see hope in Moonlight’s eyes. He can hear her fondness for one she considers a brother. He can’t take that away from her. Not after the kindness she had shown to him.

At first the spirit within the staff is confused, but then that quickly shifts to anger. Its own compulsive need to satiate its gluttonous appetite makes its calm mask slip. Wizard feels a tug, but he yanks it back.

“Stop!” He commands and the staff merely laughs; the sound echoes in the boy’s head, making him feel dizzy. Wizard Cookie thinks he’s in charge here? That’s cute.

Wizard feels something snaking up his arms, through his torso, clawing his throat and shooting directly into his head. And then suddenly he’s asleep again, but it’s not nearly as peaceful or comforting as it had been with Moonlight.

Much to his friends’ horror, the Staff begins to puppet Wizard’s body with the intent to kill Stardust. Gingerbrave, enraged by this, tackles the possessed Wizard Cookie and gets into a full-blown brawl with him. The minute he disarms Wizard, the possession stops and the boy’s body goes limp.

In the end, Moonlight and Stardust will reconcile. Moonlight Cookie will be asked to help the Cookie Union stand against Dark Enchantress, to which she will agree. Then she will turn to the Bad Batch. Gingerbrave is holding Wizard’s unconscious body, meanwhile Wild Strawberry has taken the Staff and is beating it against the nearest wall. Not hard enough to break it, but just hard enough to get her point across. Both children bristle when the Goddess approaches, unsure of what she plans to do. They weren’t expecting her to kneel down in order to gently brush Wizard’s hair from his sleeping face. She looks… sad.

“I can tell he means a lot to you both,” she says. “He feels the same about you…” She looks up to meet Gingerbrave’s wide eyes. “I wish there was more I could do for him. Alas, my hands are tied unless he makes the choice himself…”

Nobody is quite sure what she means, but it seems to weigh on her.

“Take good care of him.” She smiles, but there’s still so much sorrow in her eyes. Gingerbrave nods without hesitation.

And with a wave of her hand, all the mortal cookies awaken outside the City.

Even months after these events, Wizard Cookie doesn’t share what happened while he was with Moonlight Cookie. He lies and says he can’t remember after he woke up. He won’t even let the Staff pick at those memories, and much to the Staff’s frustration, there’s something protecting that part of the boy’s mind.

Wizard Cookie is still bitter toward the world. He’s still all-in on their plan to steal the Soul Jam. He’s still loyal to his friends and willing to continue his research into the dark arts.

But some nights, when the moon seems especially beautiful and the dark seems especially peaceful, as Wizard Cookie drifts off to sleep… Sometimes he feels a familiar warm embrace.

“I will protect your dreams, for as long as you need me to.”