#trafficking tw

[deadbeatmaker]

2x04 I want You More Than Anything in the World / 3x04 The Devil’s road

Broke my heart

[quitealotofsodapop]

Dispatch, but the idea where Sonar infiltrates a "dog"-fighting ring only to find a baby wolf hybrid; occurs after Robert becomes the Z-Team dispatcher.

Robert is guiding Sonar and another Z-Teamer through their investigation, not unlike Punch-Up and Coupe's dip into the fighting tournament. A tip came in from an concerned citizen of a suspected animal fighting ring - animals with concerning injuries and scarring, large numbers of people entering and exiting a property, etc...

The idea is simple; have two heroes dressed in civilian clothing scope out the suspected animal-fighting location, and report back with their collected bodycam footage.

Flambae elects himself to help out with translating bilingual code phrases, since the sport unfortunately spills over into immigrant communities. He can easily blend into the crowd once he detects their vibe.

Sonar makes himself look shabby and ready to bet the last two dollars in his pocket for narcotics (*long sniff!* "Ah! I'm a method actor") - the perfect mark for degenerate gambling types.

They sneak in easy enough, but they get separated amongst the heavy cigar smoke and pushing bodies. The people around them speak a variety of rushed dialects that even Chad has difficulty following along with. They get patted down, and a man (presumably a bookie) confirms that the two came in together - specifically "Did you bring him?".

Chad nods.

Rather suddenly, the manbat is grabbed and shoved into a different room.

The sound of chains clicking together is deafening.

Flambae and Robert attempt to reestablish contact - only for the manbat's mic to go startingly quiet.

Robert, low voice: "Sonar, status. It's too dark, I can't see anything on your body cam. Are you okay-" Sonar: "It's not dogs." Robert: "Clarify?" Sonar: "Not. Dogs. It's... oh fuck, Bobby... They're hybrids." Flambae, shocked: "Wait- shit! They probably thought I brought you as a bait animal! No wonder we didn't get stopped for money. Bob-Bob, we are going to need back-up pronto." Malevola, instantly: "I'm on it." Robert: "Sending you all the location. Also sending a signal out to anyone in Teams T through Y for assistance. Sonar, can you describe the room you're in?" Sonar, choking cough: "There's lots of hybrids in here Bobby. Most seem to be non-sapient or some kind of feral but... shit, they must be snatching poor bastards off the street. Smells fuckin' awful." Robert: "Can you sense any openings or weaknesses in the room?" Sonar, lips dry: "I... I'm gonna try. Its not gonna sound nice." Malevola, sounds of running: "We can handle it babes."

Sonar emits a loud bat screech to gain visual information of the room. The sound disturbs many of the unwilling "fighters" into cries and shouts.

A baby's wail cuts through the chaos.

The coms line goes silent.

The sound of snapping metal, and tearing muscle rips from Sonar's mic - all but confirming that he's gone Megabat-mode.

The patrons of the establishment have finally caught on that Flambae doesn't belong, and start loudly questioning him. The ex-villain bluffs long enough for a portal to appear in the main lobby, bringing with it Malevola and the rest of the cavalry.

Amidst the chaos, and mass arrests, Robert picks up new sounds from Sonar's line. Intermingled with the odd half-human half-canine wails of an infant.

Sonar, voice deepened in Megabat-mode: "Oh fuck! Oh shit. It's okay buddy! We're getting you out of here. Ough! Stinky!.... you haven't been held in a while, have you?" (*Sounds of a heavy metal door opening. The angry calls of men following them*) Sonar, furious: "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM! YOU PIECES OF-!" (*loud electric buzzing as a yelp of pain cuts through the nouse*) "Oh now you've fucking done it! Close your eyes kiddo."

Robert decides to lower Sonar's line for the moment, directing Mal towards his location in case he's gone feral with rage. He finds himself subconsciously trying to calm the crying baby through the microphone.

The demoness makes an impressed whistle at the carnage she finds in the holding area.

The hybrid captives are unharmed. Some have even perked up with glimmers of hope. Their captors are in pieces on the ground. The Megabat's claws drenched in their blood.

And in those bloodied claws, delicately cradled, is a baby. Obviously a canine hybrid, but a baby nonetheless.

Sonar refuses to put them down for even a second. Attempts to remove them causes both the bat and the pup to cry out.

As clean-up and health checks on captives continue, Mal and Flambae manage to shuffle Sonar out through a portal back to SND Torrance. The Manbat doesn't revert back to his more humanoid form for hours. He only relinquishes his hold on the infant for a pediatrician to assess.

Malnutrition is obviously present, as is evidence of extremely poor hygiene conditions. Far too thin, with ammonia-burnt skin. Rubber bands are found on the baby's swollen tail - signs of DIY tail docking to kill the tissue.

And the baby Won't. Stop. Crying.

The tag on the baby's neck translates to "Ultimate Prize".

It makes the team shudder to think what the pup's fate could have been.

The crying only stops when Victor returns from his own medical evaluation. They found traces of sedatives in his blood. The only reason he wasn't out cold when the handlers arrived likely was from a mixture of drug tolerance, and protective fervour towards the infant.

The miserable wolf pup's cries peter to sniffles as Victor leans over their incubator. The bat-hybrid looks at them with a emotion he cannot place.

He leans in closer to try and get a better sniff of the baby, hoping to find any evidence of if they had been somewhere before that cell. Victor finds nothing.

The pup awkwardly shuffles towards the sniffing sound. A pair of tiny paw-like hands reach out to explore his savior's face. A tiny lick flickers on the manbat's face. The sign of a hungry pup asking for comfort.

Victor's breath catches in his throat.

He... can't do this.

But every time he tries to leave, the baby cries, and he just Can't.

Victor is kneeling on the ground, body flushed against the side of the incubator, as his hand and face are held hostage by an infant over a tenth his size.

The Z-Team don't question why he hasn't moved. Malevola even greets the pup with a soft smile, and kiss on the forehead. Flambae looks at the tiny figure and has to remove himself to the gym to work the rage out of his mind.

Robert tells Victor; "I'm so fucking glad you found them. We're all proud of you Vic."

Beef circles Victor and the incubator, excited but puzzled by the smell of a new puppy in the air. Victor gives the fat potato-dog a gentle pet.

DNA is screened, and not matches are found in the database. No birth records, no matching reports from hospitals or maternity clinics. The baby might as well never existed.

Blonde Blazer reviews the bodycam footage, and whispers about finding custody loopholes.

Red tape is tangled for the moment.

"Baby John Doe" is quietly changed to "Alfred" aka "Alfie". Victor graces him with his own surname. Felt right.

Malevola double downs on her duties as her best friend's sponsor, promsing to skin him if she even catches a whiff of powder on him again. Victor agrees with her demands.

The ex-villain currently-hero manbat now has an adoptive son. One which cries when separated from him, and has clear signs of separation anxiety.

The Z-Team try their best ot be supportive, though some of them still need to be convinced that their recovering coke-bat is up for the task.

Victor is trying though. Even if he forgets stuff like bottles or extra diapers when he brings the pup to work with him. It's not uncommon to find Alfie with his onesies on backwards, and chewing on a pastry the size of his head.

Robert personally thinks its really admirable. And he's not just saying that because the pup has imprinted on him as another "safe" person to hold him.

Even if Victor had scammed thousands out of Silicon Valley, he's saved an untold number of lives in defending his fellow hybrids in that dungeon.

And to Alfie, he will always be a Hero.

[tyu4thevenom]

whenever someone makes a diddy joke or mentions epstein to win an argument around a sex trafficking victim they should be allowed to kill them

[didhaver]

“why don’t you report the abuse?” people in the CDD community, aka disorders caused by severe & repeated childhood trauma, think that my trauma is exaggerated, roleplaying, attention seeking, and fake despite being a $150 billion industry worldwide.

[aces-spade-palace]

making this a separate post because I'm just so pissed off about this. I have found the change that bothers me the most and I feel like I could write a whole thesis on this The one that bothers me the most is the change on page 191, where Inej is explaining how she was kidnapped and sold into slavery to Tante Heleen. This happened when she was fourteen (page 189). In the original publication, Inej is seventeen, still a girl. "The girl [changed to woman] she'd become would have jumped without a second thought" Inej is still a child here, where she is on the boat to Kerch. She is still someone who was put through that trauma only three years ago, and then being forced into a brothel for two years before Kaz "saved" her and she had to survive on the streets of the Barrel. All of this happened in only THREE YEARS. And I don't think people understand that aspect of the story, and how impactful that is when they age Inej up in the Dregs editions.

[victimgutz]

i understand the desire to want your abusers punished, but i think a lot of people conflate punishment with justice. going to the police about abuse may result in punishment, but it won't result in justice.

i see a lot of people rationalizing their decision to report by saying things like "this may be really difficult and dangerous and hard on me, but at least if i do this it'll protect other victims from my abuser." that's not true. i'm not saying you shouldn't report! but if you're going to report please do it for you, not because you think it will protect someone else. because odds are it won't, and it's fairly likely to actually harm other victims.

[maemaybe]

Are any other survivors of organized abuse/trafficking feeling kind of fucked up about this week's reminder that Trump is in the Epstein files and that it feels like no one actually fucking cares?

Like, Musk obviously knew the whole time and tried to drop his little truth bomb about it once they had their public billionaire breakup. Was that supposed to make him look like a whistleblower or a hero? He only revealed the truth (that we all already knew) after Trump cut off his cash flow.

It just feels like a huge reminder that no one actually cares about the victims of child sex trafficking or csam. All of this, even the decisions about who is held accountable and who receives justice, all of it is just a power game.

I just feel like meat for the meat grinder.

I don't think anyone talking about Epstein actually cares about victims of csa, trafficking, organized abuse, csam or any of it. They never talk about us like they give a shit.

[collectivelykellen]

it feels wrong to use persephone's blog when I know I'm not really her, not anymore...

she's 12 because she has to be. that's what J could never understand. she is 12 because that keeps her reality intact. it's what allows some remnants of her shattered innocence to not crumble to dust. she still wants to be loved. she still wants to connect--desperately, even. that's so much more than most of us can say.

growing up would not benefit her, it would break her further. better the unimaginable cruelty of one man and his shadowy customers than the weight of the world and how commonplace rape and trafficking are.

when J tried to force her to look at the difference between our chronological age and her internal age, she had no idea that she was breaking persephone's reality. I don't know what she could have possibly expected after aggressively and firmly telling her that every perception she has about herself and our trauma was wrong. she used that word a lot. wrong. not rational. "it doesn't make sense."

none of it makes sense, J. none of it is rational. you can't take someone who has experienced extensive developmental trauma outside the bounds of "normal" and the collective social agreement of reality, and make any sense of it. nobody wants to believe fathers will molest and sell their children to their sister in law's husband for sex. that will never make sense, not to J, not to persephone, not to us collectively or anyone else. there are no cognitive distortions when everything in someone's existence has been distorted beyond reckoning from infancy.

so now there's me, a disillusioned, pessimistic not-quite-adult, not-quite-persephone. I shouldn't have to exist. she shouldn't have been pushed so far. if you try to force a lock to open, it will break.